Catholic Hermit: Holy Mother of God, With Us

Was able to drive to Mass on this Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God.

Someone had early morning texted this quote of St. Padre Pio:  "Always stay close to this Heavenly Mother, because she is the sea to be crossed to reach the shores of Eternal Splendor.

My relationship with Mary has been, as various other facets of my recent life have been:  Distracted.

In present moment considerations of negative situations, negative relationships, and my self needing examination, honest and realistic, of my own negativity, clearing out distractions that are negative, will open my mind, heart, and soul all the more, again and of increase, my love and recognition of Mary.  She is with us, with you, with me.  She is a treasured guide and mentor, a true mother, in our knowing and loving her Son, Our Lord, Jesus Christ.

When I pray for deeper conversions, it is Mary, Mother of God, who facilitates conversions and deeper conversions.  Remember?  She is the Catalytic Converter of our relationship in Christ.

In the day chapel, which I intentionally do not turn on the light but get the television turned on to its live-streaming what will and does occur in the sanctuary, at the altar during Mass, a young man came in despite being yet room in the main apse of the Church--people pouring into the church this morning, January 1, to celebrate Mass and honor Mary as Theotokis: Greek for  God-bearer.

The young man carries immense weight.  He was on other side of chapel, yes, but in same pew row.  He seemed to have no desire, either, to have the ceiling lights turned on; he was self-conscious of his weight, I sensed.  At some point later, after Mass began and after I was in the mystical ecstasy which surely looks like a person having dozed off,  not moving, others had entered.  Someone turned on the light, for it was on after all but the young man and I remained after Mass.

I felt a deep connection with the man, perhaps in his 20's, again, extremely heavy.  He spoke as I stood up to leave, and we looked at one another, seemingly sharing a sense of knowing--perhaps that we each have reasons to have come into the dark day chapel and preferring it to remain darkened.  The others, whomever with sounds of children, switched on the lights even though the large-screen television was even better viewed without overhead lights.  A difference of preference but also indicative of the young man's and my subtler reasons for embracing hiddenness.

I've kept the young man and his needs, whatever they may be, in my heart all day and now into the night.  God bless him, and may Mary dispense whatever graces he is desiring and needing on this first day of new calendar year and new decade of temporal time and of our earthly lives.

An email came from the professor I had great privilege of being instructed by her expertise on John of the Cross, in Catholic University of Avila, summer of 2005.  She had emailed a review of The Phoenix of Rennes: the Life and Poetry of John of St. Samson.  The professor inquired about another written work she'd sent; but I have not received it, or have not located it, if it is in my laptop, anyway.  Her inquiry of a few days ago as to wanting an update of my health, I had answered, and thanked her for the review which is her excellent work, published. 

Yes, once again, God has provided, and on this day, Mary, as well, is giving me uplifting direction and guidance as to what is better and best for my mind, heart, and soul.  And in these, the body, also, is uplifted intrinsically. 

Jean du Moulin, or after he became a lay brother of the Carmelite Ancient Observance--John of St. Samson--was born into privilege, but at age 3 he became blind for life from effects of Small Pox. Despite blindness, he attended school and learned at least rudimentary Latin and French literature. At age 10, his parents died.  He moved in with his maternal uncle's family, and there discovered and developed his unusual musical talents.  By age 12 he was playing the organ in his birth town (Sens) church and had mastered several other instruments. 

Around age 15, Jean lived with an elder brother, in Paris.  In the nine years with his brother, Jean became spiritually immersed in prayer and other aspects of the spiritual life, to his great benefit.  By 1606,  his brother died.  Jean, age 25, was homeless, living on the streets of Paris. 

However, he heard of the Carmelites of the Ancient Observance and their reform in the post-reformation era; he was accepted (and desired by them!) as a lay brother, taking the name John of St. Samson.  He became a leader through his spiritual writings, his liturgical poetry, his musical talents shared, and also his ability to assist greatly in the Carmelite reform.

Well, I can attest to the fact that I delight and find inspiration and great hope in God from lives of those who suffered and yet persevered and produced positive good in their lives.  One of today's saints is St. Basil the Great, Doctor of the Church and Bishop, 4th c. and close friend of St. Gregory of Nazianzen.  St. Basil was known to have suffered greatly in his life--including by those who did not like his honesty in speaking and writing truth, when so many humans do not want to face realities or themselves.  He was a great proponent of exposing the Arian Heresy and helping to cause it's demise.

Off with my body to the pain doctor, due to thinking perhaps would be good to be referred to gastrointestinal specialist.  But no, instead there is another new medication to try.  The doctor still thinks the problem is something that can be reversed with trying this new type of medication.  We will find out tomorrow morning after Mass (praying can drive and sit and celebrate) when I go to pharmacy and find out, how much this one costs.  Similar to the other medication that did nothing and was shockingly high-cost.  I could not afford that, and especially not for a gamble since the sample did did not work.

The temporal world and our temporal bodies are ever to be dealt with as prayerfully and positively as possible. Such is what tethers us yet to this world when our hearts and minds and souls yearn for heaven.

I loved reading what St. Gertrude the Great wrote about her love of Mary, the Mother of God.  How I have been distracted by my bodily suffering and the distractions of sorrowful and negative persons and situations. Now is, after all, in temporal time and world, the beginning of a new decade!

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us!

Catholic Hermit: Give Comfort

Well, the upsweep of euphoria at having been able to be out of bed more than in a few months, has come to a drastic halt.  I'm once more suffering dreadfully.  The gut issues have a name:  Paralytic Ileus.  Means the intestines are not operating as they ought.  Been occurring on occasion for 18 years, but in the past couple or three weeks has been chronic, and this time horrific.

Just another symptom of the Adhesive Arachnoiditis of which the nerves within the spinal cord were injured in the 1987 surgery or also the myelogram just prior.  My July 23 surgery did not help but rather seems to have given a boost to this progressive, rare disease.  Digestive and urinary tract problems are all typical of the many symptoms that develop over time.  

I have no idea if this is going to be the new normal, but the added trauma of the rods and screws needing to be first removed from the lower lumbar-sacrum of spine, has been obvious to me since this recent surgery.  Then adding more sets of rods and screws, bone fusion, on up the lumbar, also aggravated what for short is called: AA.

The intestinal issues can progress and be chronic and also debilitating.  The increased symptoms of the intestinal muscles not receiving or interpreting needed nerve impulses is at another level from what I've dealt with on occasion in past.  Despite the nausea, the painful abdominal distension, I kept trying to go for walks, managed the magnificent errand to Walmart Pharmacy, and yesterday walked on some hilly paths. (This was an unexpected blessing: a text from young grandson asking me along while he rode his mountain bike.)  

Then last night I mixed ingredients for Springerle--my great-grandmother's recipe for these German "picture" cut-out anise-flavored cookies.  My prayer intention for my adult children's lives--and I will remain positive  that I'll be able to complete the rolling out and baking of what is now refrigerated dough, at some other time.

I have no idea how this day or night will unfold.  Between bed and bathroom, this has been the present moment situation since yesterday evening.  The Lord is reminding me that I am in His Order of the Present Moment, St. Joseph our patron, my habit the usual, ordinary nightwear.  I may need to go to ER for some scans, if the situation, once I recover from this bout, becomes a repetitive, on-going problem.  

Just have to wait and see, and endure the added pain and suffering, the awful aspects of intestinal troubles, and the harsh reality that joy includes the upsweeps and the laying-lows. [Another neighbor woman, recently met, just dropped off some Coca Cola; she brought and gave comfort in this kindness!  I read online that Coke can help re-balance the digestive tract--in small ways, but am trying. Lord, please know I'm trying.]

I had to sacrifice A.'s coming this morning with Communion.  Matters here are far too unpleasant and unpredictable, bodily: misery abounds.  But not a place this hermitage, Solus Deus, must be for other than the mystical and spiritual presences of the Trinity, the Virgin Mary, St. Joseph and all the saints and angels of which many are saintly ancestors and friends who enjoy the glory of God in heaven, eternally now.  

Here, too, are welcome the suffering souls in purgatory, desiring my prayers.  And I have been praying for all people with digestive tract ailments of which Crohn's Disease comes to mind, and the not-too-many sufferers of Adhesive Arachnoiditis from spinal cord injuries of various types who suffer this symptom, also.  

I pray God's comfort and joy on all who suffer in whatever ways in this present moment, and present moment by present moment as the moments pass.  Joy must remain a commitment of anyone living in and who belongs to the Order of the Present Moment.  Keep joy, always!

When I read the first Scripture reading (Isaiah 40: 1-11) of yesterday's Mass, the first words captivated my mind and heart.  Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God.  These words--what I think of as a gentle, soothing command--I very much wanted for myself.  I was becoming discouraged with the unknowns even of how long this current, painful and miserable symptom will continue, nor if it will simply repeat itself all over again as seems its recent trend.  I'm not used to this being on a continuum, nor do I want it.

But while I want God's comfort, He is reminding me to give comfort to His people, to others.  I can only do that in my prayers today, or in writing this post in case someone who is interested and might, also, decide to offer God's comfort to those around them, or in prayer to people all over the world.  For all people are God's people; He created us all and desires us to be His beloved children, His flock of which He does not stop seeking after us, even if only one were to remain lost.

While the prophet Isaiah spoke to the people of his time period, the reality of prophecy is that the words reach far into the future, to other persons, to other times, in which the words of God and their meaning still stand true and strong--God speaking across time and through centuries, for time is God's creation for the temporal, yet He is in time and beyond time: timeless.

So I read and meditate God's word through the prophet Isaiah, and His divine message becomes meant for me personally, as it also is meant for you personally.  While I could edit the verses to shorten the passage, the beauty and rich meaning that fills me with God's comfort, and gives me also the grace to give comfort to others even if my prayers and what bit of writing is my means of giving God's comfort.  

I know with assurance that God is carrying me, and carrying you, dear readers--gathering and carrying us close to His bosom, tending us, leading us with His loving care.  It's a present moment of all present moments to take joy in this reality:  God is our comforter; God is comforting us now and always.

Please, with me if you wish, read and silently let God's Word through Isaiah speak to us with whatever personal meaning the Holy Spirit inspires.  These are the living realities of God comforting us today, right now, wherever we are and whatever we are doing, thinking, feeling.

God is our comfort; God is our recompense.  Each line, each thought, has a message for us from God, and instructions for our human, mortal lives, but all the more for our immortal souls seeking blessed, eternal union with our Comforter,  Savior, our Redeemer.  God bless His Real Presence in us!


"Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her 
that her service is at an end, her guilt is expiated; 
Indeed, she has received from the hand of the LORD
double for all her sins.

A voice cries out:  In the desert prepare the way of the LORD!
Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!
Every valley shall be filled in,
every mountain and hill shall be made low;
The rugged land shall be made a plain,
the rough country, a broad valley.
Then the glory of the LORD shall be revealed,
and all mankind shall see it together;
for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.

A voice says, 'Cry out!'  
I answer, 'What shall I cry out?'
'All mankind is grass, and all their glory like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower wilts, 
when the breath of the LORD blows upon it.
(So then, the people is the grass.)
Though the grass withers and the flower wilts,
the word of our God stands forever.'

Go up onto a high mountain, Zion, herald of glad tidings;
Cry out at the top of your voice, Jerusalem, herald of good news!
Fear not to cry out and say to the cities of Judah:
Here is your God!

Here comes with power the Lord GOD, who rules by his strong arm;
Here is his reward with him, his recompense before him.
Like a shepherd he feeds his flock; 
in his arms he gathers the lambs,
Carrying them in his bosom, 
and leading the ewes with care."

                          ~ Isaiah 40:1-11

Catholic Hermit: Transformation of the Praying Heart

The other Catholic hermit (privately professed) who has many mystical experiences of which one gift is the Indwelling of the Holy Trinity, emailed last night that if writing helps me endure this pain, then to write.  

I was awakened in the night be worse suffering, so I got back on the floor where it seems my back more comfortable.  The lumbar is still a fiery mess of pain.  It is so severe that the nerve pain down the legs takes second place.  Yet upon waking this morning, the spinal headache is hollering for help.  Thus far I've not given in to Excedrin; I truly want to cooperate with the pain doctor's plan to do steroid injection into the spine this coming Wed.  

So I texted Angel (the woman who brings me His Real Presence in the mystery of His tangible form of consecrated Host), and mentioned my plight--perhaps ER if cannot get headache tamed--and if she is going to grocery any time, could she pick up three items for me?  But she is away until Saturday night but can help then.  It is for the best, no doubt, as I must not cave to the ER plan too easily.  What can they do for me, anyway, other than IV or injection?  That will wear off if even possible in this stringent time regarding pain medications.  Or they'd try what does not work, such as Tylenol; or they'd say take Advil, which is an nsaid and what I'm not to take seven days prior to the spinal injection.

I turn to His Living Word, while I yet consider:  Does writing about this high amount of suffering and this experience of enduring through it, really help me?  I'm doubting it helps others--you readers.  Only if some of you have a lot of pain of any type, it probably seems quite self-serving or piteous that I would write and write and write of the details of trying to endure pain.  Even if you can relate it to someone near you, or to times in your own lives in which you've had various types of suffering--but then, I'm convinced most if not all handle suffering far better, so this would seem nonsense.

Well, I am a weak soul, for sure.  I have considered if I would make myself praise God--yes, just praise for this or that and for Him alone--it would be better than pondering whatever else or dealing with thoughts of desire of being with the Lord, when obviously Jesus has not and at least right now, is not returning to take me with Him.

So here amidst the morning Mass readings, is the daily Catechism of the Catholic Church selection.  (And as a former, long-time Protestant, I still think The Catechism makes a fine guide for anyone, including if governments of the world would stick to what is set forth in this book!)  As I read today's selection, the part about transformation of the praying heart is the first response to our [prayer] petition.

2739 For St. Paul, this trust [in God, in prayer to God?] is bold, founded on the prayer of the Spirit in us [Holy Spirit's prayer, being prayed in us?] and on the faithful love of the Father who has given us his only Son.  Transformation of the praying heart is the first response to our petition.

I marvel at what details enlighten when I take moments to ponder, when I talk these matter over with His Real Presence-within Whom I abide and Who abides within me.  This the crux of lectio divina: divine converse with the Holy Trinity.  Allow the Holy Spirit of which God Who Is Love flows between Father and Son, permeate this Divine Love in us.  Thus we communicate in words or in the silence of our hearts and minds with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Thus  His Real Presence communicates with us, through, with, and in His Perfect Love.

Again, as I have felt so strongly that hope in God is a mystical, spiritual hope--yes, a theological virtue--and resides within His Real Presence, within us as we are within Him, I also wonder at this statement above that "the prayer of the Spirit is within us."  So, too, here is this transformation of the praying heart.  We are told it is our first response to our prayer--our petition, it states.  So is the transformation of our praying hearts on-going within us, when we pray?

Do we have to do the "work" of transforming our hearts?  Or is the Holy Spirit causing the transformation "autonomically" whenever we pray, whenever we communicate with God.  Conceivably, this would be in whatever manner of prayer--including petitions, praises, words spoken, thought, aural or silent aspirations?  Does this mean our prayer ought be of the heart as opposed to the mind--and is it possible to communicate with God solely with the mind and not have the heart very much involved, as well as our body and spirit included in praying?

My worn out body, mind, heart and even my spirit, needs to believe that the Holy Spirit is providing the transformation for us, through us, with us, and in us as we are through, with, and in His Real Presence when we pray.  I have to trust that the Holy Spirit transforms the praying heart no matter the degree, level, or type of communication with any One and all Three Persons of the Holy Trinity.  I now must trust in His Providence in all matters because I have not the strength to do or think or put out effort because I have not the strength.  I'm at the singular point of solus Deus:  God alone.

While The Catechism states that the "transformation of the praying heart is the first response to our petition," it does not specifically say that the transformation of the heart (when praying) is our own response.  So, is the Holy Spirit engendering, effectuating the response--this "first" response? [Will there be mention in The Catechism, or is there some sort of second or third response--perhaps involving other aspects of our beings, such as our minds or our souls?  I guess, stay tuned!  We might find out!]

For now, I'm going to accept that my heart has been and is continuing to be transformed.  Perhaps this transformation of my heart is an on-going transformation, whenever I pray, whenever I communicate with the Holy Trinity, with His Real Presence.  Thus, the transformation of my heart is the first response and always the response when praying.  The transformation of my heart then is on-going if I pray always, when communicating with God in constant communication even though not always verbal or mental prayer of my conscious awareness.  It can be prayer that grows, always a form of the prayer of and in my soul and spirit, just as The Catechism states that the prayer of the Spirit is in us.

Accept!  This is a key word:  Accept.  Accept these truths of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit abiding in us and us in Him:  The trinity, the Three-in-One, His Real Presence.  Accept and desire His Real Presence always, eternally.  When there is nothing other that. and no one who, can offer productive, positive, perfect hope, faith, and love.  We know to Whom to turn, to Whom we can trust, to Whom we can abide in full security in our communicating, in our listening, in our being able to fully be ourselves without risk of betrayal or criticism, without risk of rejection or abandonment, without being ever misunderstood.

And when we are weary and weak, we do not need effort.  All we need is to rely upon His Real Presence, of which the Holy Spirit breathes upon us and in us the faith, hope, and perfect love of the Father and the Son.  We can rest in His assurance, and know that even in our prayers--even if only prayer of petition, of asking, beseeching--the Holy Spirit's prayer is already praying in us, engendering the transformation of our hearts as first response to whatever we've asked whether in word, thought, or unspoken need.

Have we realized that pain itself speaks?  A broken heart speaks?  A despairing mind speaks?  What we cannot express in our own words or even recognize as thoughts, needs, feelings--can be heard by the Spirit in ways we do not fathom right now.  And all of what is "us" is shared through, with, and in God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ by and in the mystical interaction of the Holy Spirit.

If the Father knows us from before we were knit in our mothers' wombs, if He knows every hair on our heads, if He knows what we need before we can put our petitions into thoughts or words, then He knows the prayer of our pain.  He knows the prayer that is our sufferings, our trials, our challenges, our obstacles, our heartaches.  He also knows the prayer that is our desire to persevere and endure through whatever His Real Presence is allowing in our lives, whether or not we recognize that God allows all for the good of us who love Him so!

He knows the prayer that is our desire to triumph over evil.  He knows what the devil is doing, as God knows all.  He knows what the devil is putting us through, what and how the devil is tempting us.  He knows because all God allows is for the purpose of bringing us to perfection--bit by bit--to be one with Him in His Real Presence, in the Holy Trinity.

All this--freely given us by God--strengthens us and perfects us.  As we freely and fearless give all of ourselves to His Real Presence, to us is freely given the all that is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

The only aspect required of me, now, is to accept all that He gives me.  All I need do now, is to endure the suffering, to suffer it out no matter how long I am on earth.  I am to set aside "me" and what I'd like to accomplish or think I ought--like a reminder just now from the ophthalmologist that I am to come for a visual field test in two days.  But again, all I need to do now is to rest in the assurance of His Real Presence adn to know that the Holy Spirit's prayer in ongoing within me, and that my heart is being transformed through prayer seen or unseen, known or unknown, hears or unheard:  the prayer of the Spirit praying.

God bless His Real Presence in us!

[Note: I want to clarify so as not to be misunderstood that the above is not simply passive laziness or helplessness.  It is not "quietism."  Even suffering is an action, a participation, a cooperation with His Real Presence.  It is not really a  passive praying.  Mercy, no!  It is quite active in its own aspects--pain, in essence, screams!  Even the Holy Spirit praying in us, is not us being passive , uninvolved, or non-cooperative.  We are cooperating in the Holy Spirit's prayer within us by being in and with His Real Presence, and the Holy Spirit having berth in our souls.  Enduring is active participation with the Trinity, for example.]

Catholic Hermit's Birthday Novena Idea

I realized yesterday that I have not written much of any good on my blog for quite awhile.  My daily life has been more chronicled with the little dabblings of manual labor, of physical pain trials, of observations of this or that in the temporal, and in general of my dragging through a lot of temporal hassles and not so much with the best of spiritual, inspiring attitude!  And then toss in laziness and lack of focus and discipline to make what I've shared perhaps not helpful other than readers can say with certainty:  "There but for the grace of God, go I."

This weak and fumbling consecrated Catholic hermit can be an example to others by inspiring a desire to do far better than this nothing is doing and being to Jesus' All!

So I decided today to try to at least offer an idea, with an example, of a birthday novena I'm praying to write and offer for a dear friend and mentor who turned 90 a couple days ago.  She has no temporal needs that some money or a tangible gift would fulfill, although last year I decided to participate in her prayers and mentoring of her granddaughter by sending donations from my roadside produce table as a contribution to a lunch out with her granddaughter upon her first visit back home from freshman year in college.  The spiritual link came through monetarily sponsoring their lunch.

But this year it seemed that reaching 90 years of age should have something richer than money.  It took a few weeks of mulling to receive the idea from the Holy Spirit.  Take a 9th chapter a day of books and letters of the New Testament, read it, pray about it, ask for inspiration, and then write how my friend's life is reflected in and relates to what the Living Word states.

I had intended to begin with Romans and go through 9 of St. Paul's epistles, in order.  But the very first day of the novena, the Gospel of John popped up when I looked at Scripture online.  (My living circumstances are rough enough still that having my study Bible out and around is not prudent due to sawdust and drywall mud and whatever other construction crud.)  Well, the 9th chapter of John happened to be just right for the first day, given what my friend was doing on that day, requiring her eyesight....

Regardless, yesterday I returned to the plan of Romans 9, and that worked out well; and today it is 1 Corinthians 9.  Selfishly, what I am finding is that reading and writing and relating to my friend's life has set an improved tone for my own morning and day, with much to ponder.  And I realize that much of my writing time is spent more in emails to individuals than in writing much of any good on my blog.

So today I am sharing what was emailed to my friend, although I am sure many if not all of you have birthday novena ideas for your friends that are a far sight better, and I'd love to hear about them from you, if you wish to share.  At least this one is something from me to share with you that is not just of my own trials and whatever observations in my obscure life.  Maybe some of the thoughts on 1 Corinthian 9 apply to your lives, also, as we are each and all called by Christ in one way or another, as apostles of Christ.

["Dear K.,]

Well, this one is interesting!  I'm finding the spontaneity of relating to the 9's of progressive Letters and Books of New Testament, these written by St. Paul, to be fascinating.

So today I am praying and pondering how your life is reflected in these thoughts from a major apostle, even if he was a Paul-come-lately to the faith after persecuting Christians with the force of his previous convictions and adherence to the laws of men and the laws of righteousness rather than the law of God, the law of Love.

What a conversion experience he had!  I figure you had one, too, at some point in your life, be it all at once or over time in awakenings along the way.

It is something to consider being called just as Paul was called, to be an apostle for Jesus.  You are; we all are.  We are called to be apostles and to preach the Gospel.  It may be more in action and thought than in our actual words to a listening audience or to travel about preaching Christ and His Good News.

You were and are called as an apostle.  You live it out and have, for you have been given a mission in life as an apostle of Christ, and it has evolved in each phase as they come and pass in the temporal and spiritual aspects of life lived.

You planted spiritual seeds in each of your children, perhaps especially in the spiritual bond with Laurie amidst her and your suffering together in her brief life on earth and in the years since of physical separation.  The spiritual bond has grown all the more firm.  You continue to sow spiritual seeds by your spiritual reading of Scripture and of the spiritual masters who left their writings of insights and wise counsel, as well as in the Living Word which guides your thoughts and works and heart and soul: the Gospel.  

You planted spiritual seeds in the students you taught, whether or not they ever realized the seeds spiritual; they were and are, for spiritual seeds never stop growing or at least never lose the potential to grow within souls.  Even right now, today, there may be some spiritual seed you planted in some child or adult along the path of life, who you touched with a word or prayer or smile or comforting look, and that seed may be growing in a spurt in this present moment.

This is a marvelous reality, and to think that today you will be planting more spiritual seeds, and tomorrow, and on and on throughout eternity.

And then there is the point of living and enduring all things so as to not place an obstacle to the Gospel of Christ.  As St. Paul writes that those who preach the Gospel of Christ ought live the Gospel of Christ, it is also true that those of us who hear or read the Gospel of Christ ought live it, as well.  And it is also true that preaching the Gospel of Christ extends beyond the notion of preaching as words spoken to others in a formal or even informal setting.  

Preaching the Gospel is accomplished in thoughts, prayers, non-verbal actions, and even in attitude and demonstration of enduring all with patience and love and in retaining faith and hope no matter what obstacles are placed in our human lives.  So that makes it all the more real that we should endure all so as to not place an obstacle in front of the Gospel, the good news, of Christ's life and reality as savior of all our souls and savior of the entire world.

You place no hindrance in front of Christ; this is obvious.  Even when you may shake your head and think of any flaws that you may consider for yourself, the truth is that you have and do and will endure in the theological virtues of faith, hope, and love, and that you will never obstruct Christ's love and mercy for you or any other person in your life's encounters--be they yet on this earth or no longer here.  

Enduring any suffering removes the chance of creating obstacles, and I guess that is the good work and effect of sufferings and enduring them.  It is the living out of Christ's ultimate mission--is suffering and enduring suffering.  That removes the obstacles to salvation for it binds us to Christ in ways that nothing much else can, for enduring is a type of proof of love and of accepting Christ's mercy and love.

Then as you share His mercy and love and shower it upon others, that is all the more preaching the Gospel of Christ.

You endure and share and "preach" willingly, as in the wisdom given you, you see there is no point in resisting.  (Some, such as me, continue to tendency to resist and to thus create obstacles to Christ's gospel and hinder the example of love and mercy.)  You have and are and will continue to fulfill your mission as an apostle of Christ, and you do so without expecting any return. (Paul uses the word recompense which is far more nuanced than return.)  

Regardless the trials or the patience involved, you live willingly and love Christ and others willingly, tolerating the idiosyncrasies and even the flaws, with love as well as merciful humor as well as humility, for humor is a gift that helps oppose pride and humility seals the soul against pride.

As far as being all things to all, even St. Paul was not pleasing to some, nor was he appreciated nor heeded by all; but even he says if he can help just a few, that is good.  Yet in your life, as far as I have observed, there is no one you have turned aside or caused to not appreciate.  

You exude a peace and tranquility even if there may be some actions or persons whose ways run afoul of what is good, best, reasonable, or holy.  With these, you endure and bear with them, for you so live out that sentiment you read of Thomas a Kempis to bear with others who have borne with you.

Anyway, dear K., while your humility is probably causing you to cringe with what I am writing which compares you with St. Paul as an apostle of Christ--you are an apostle of Christ, and your calling must not be negated even if you may think you are not.  You are, and that is that.  And the reality of it all will spur you on today and tomorrow and all the tomorrows throughout eternity, to continue the good work that Christ has begun in you and to which you have not refused Him.

And that is what I love so much about you, and why the Lord has attached me to you like a barnacle to a lovely and strong flagship as you.  I can see and hear and read and observe the Gospel being "preached" by your life, and it incites a greater desire and encouragement that I ought to improve and to learn and strive to do better.

Thanks!  God bless His Real Presence in you!  Keep up the excellent preaching, Apostle K.!

(And I am sure everyone in your life is benefitting in similar ways as I am, and the humor of your 90th birthday driver's license photo is proof of the hardships you yet endure for the sake of the Gospel--maybe not quite the same as Paul being shipwrecked, but certainly could pass as perhaps looking like you were stoned with the stones hitting you in the face!  Humor and humility tackle and take down pride!)

Catholic Hermit, an Uncommon Hermit

Well, perhaps.  What is a common hermit, anyway?  Ought not all hermits fit into the category of being "uncommon"?

Regardless, this nothing consecrated Catholic hermit is not the dour type.  I've lost a lot of forced piety over time, as in not as rigorous and more going with God's flow.  That can include music--and not just the classical music of Bach's Masses and Mozart's.  They are packed away, although I could find them on YouTube, perhaps?

I was never one to keep up with the latest in-groups when younger.  But in the past couple or so years I came across "The Beach Boys."  I started reading about them on Wikpedia, and I watched some online documentaries of their lives.  

Always fascinated with people and lives, perhaps it is in my later years and my interest in souls, that I have found the lives of others to be of great interest.  And music is peaceful, healing, soothing with its harmonies when I am in a pain siege.

Today is one such day. This is actually the third day of it, but I have toughed it out by pushing the body at least to hook up soaker hoses and pick strawberries to put out on the roadside table.  Yesterday I awoke thinking I'd passed through the siege, gotten off "easy" with but one day of spinal headache and difficulty handling situations.  

But by Mass last evening, the spinal headache had erupted; the newer muscle pain, sharp, revved with driving to the church.  Even though the ecstasy provided the gift of no pain, and I had great refreshment into the evening, this morning I awoke socked in with awful pain.  Darkness battles light.

Anyway, I took an extra med hoping to avoid the big-gun meds that would sedate me for the day and night.  Hate to have to do that, for at least this way I have moved about, such as the soaker hoses every hour or two, and picked two more quarts of berries awhile ago.  So I have tried to distract the darkness that threatens my thoughts by listening to music.

Beach Boys!  I came across a video of a concert they had 33 years ago.  The city was about 40 miles from where I lived at the time.  Life was quite different then, for me, for them.  A year later I would have the life-altering car accident--hit by teen drunk driver.  Well, anyone who has followed my blogs knows the bulk of all that ensued. 

As to the Beach Boys, that very year, a few months later, the middle brother, Dennis, would die from drowning.  He'd had too much to drink, dove, hit his head, remained under too long.  Brian, the eldest and musical genius, composer, song-writer brother, had rejoined the group publicly after more than a decade of emotional and weight problems.  Fifteen years later, the youngest brother, Carl--the one with "the voice of an angel" (truly!) would die at age 51 or so from cancer.  He had been a cigarette smoker.

I consider all their lives--their upbringing, their rise to stardom, their enduring even to this year, going on a tour, I think, their last, perhaps.  The harmonies are stellar yet.  The words mostly not the message; the music, the compositions, the sound is what resonates, uplifts, takes the mind easily from such as severe bodily pain, headache, foot pain, spinal pain, leg pain.  Nerves are on fire, burning.  

The music and thoughts of these men's lives--abusive dad, some drug experimentation, drinking, emotional and mental problems Brian had to endure, pass through.  Yes, they persevered in what was a life that had its loopholes in which they got entangled when younger.

On my part, I have endured thus far, but my suffering continues.  There is no way to overcome it physically.  I do feel as if I am wearing down, the muscles de-conditioned from a winter of too much pain and a spring of additional areas of pain, and some injuries included, like slipping thrice on the pole barn roof, or the blood poisoning from the splinter in the left thumb.  Or the on-going flare ups of the right thumb when the drill whipped back on it last December.

I did not cause the car accident years ago. I did not drink and drive, nor did I smoke.  I did not experiment with drugs, nor did I have an abusive father.  I did not run around on my spouse, was faithful, hard-working, serious about God, yes, but fun-loving.  So I have been blessed even though I did get myself into tough situations.  Mostly, the tough ones found me, though.

So it goes, that not always can we say that our lives are as they are, due to something we did or should not have done.  There are other forces involved.  Some call it our destinies; I call it God's plan, His Will, the mission marked out for us.  And, such as with the Beach Boys and others like Glen Campbell, despite some choosing to live in certain health- and morally risky ways, we can endure; we can overcome ourselves.

These musicians are proof of it, as even Dennis, the rebellious Beach Boy who went through a rough drinking period, had started to turn it around some, had come back to the security of the group, was starting to play the drums again, such as he was drumming at the concert in early summer 1983.

Should a hermit be watching and listening to the likes of pop-rock music, involving mind with lives of music stars?  (Yes, I have researched the life of Glen Campbell, too, and have listened to various songs--what a savant guitarist from early age, a poor background, and major issues with drugs and alcohol with a Jesus-conversion experience in post-midlife!)

I have wondered that today, myself. Should I be spending time here on the mattress, listening to the Beach Boys, picking up a few more details of their life histories, reminiscing with amazement that I was close by that very day of that concert--and had not an interest in it then at all.  No, it is the length and breadth and depth of life experiences that intrigue me.

I like to see from near the end of lives, back through, sifting the ashes, so to speak, to glean the bits of gold filling or whatever, that show the brilliance of a life lived that was filled with suffering of one type or another, regardless if we brought it on ourselves or God orchestrated matters to bring us to His Will for us, or a bit of both.

I like to watch the ones yet alive--Al Jardine, Brian Wilson, Mike Love, and now Al Jardine's son Matt who helps with vocals. I like to watch and listen to their old bodies and old voices, the latter amazingly strong yet.  I appreciated deeply the performances of Glen Campbell in later years, especially the documentary of his good-bye tour, suffering Alzheimer's.

I like to see how these people persevered and endured, how they overcame the darkness in their lives, or at least tried and were on their way upward.  What is this hermit's song to be?  A dirge, or one of uplift?  Perhaps it will be more on the lines of "God Only Knows," or "Love and Mercy."  Something simple, yet I had better hang on here today, in order to sing it to God.

Sometimes it is very difficult to endure through such pain.  Perhaps I should take a big-gun med, as this might drag on longer than if I'd just knock myself out for awhile, be sedated.  I don't know.  I hate the medication effects, and I want to try to do without.  Might not be wise nor caring of the body that with prolonged high-level pain is stressed, and then the emotions are stressed.

Darkness is all part of it.  The doubts, the feelings of hopelessness, particularly of if I will be able to do the manual labor necessary here.  Need to do some mowing, finish painting the exterior, the whole interior is studs mostly, with some drywall in some areas, not taped nor mudded yet.  I have a load of laundry to do and hang on the line.  Ought to brush the teeth--the bathtub the only source of water now until the end of September.

Don't ask me--ask Lowe's!  My aunt yesterday questioned me, as if I was somehow not ordering cabinets properly.  "Now, just how is that Lowe's keeps getting the cabinets wrong???"  I responded simply:  "The employees are incompetent."  My aunt responded simply, also, "Oh."  My cousin called today.  I knew she'd talked with her mother.  She questioned me as to why I still do not have a sink.  

It becomes too much to go over the negativity that does not matter, anyway.  Nothing to be done about it but wait and hope and pray that the situation gets worked out, sometime.  Right?  I've ceased being upset about it, but with high-level pain, that is not easy!  

Anyway, to some I might seem an uncommon hermit, listening to Beach Boys music and Glen Campbell songs at this phase of my life and nearly 16 years since profession of hermit vows.  Why not read more into St. Teresa's Way of Perfection  for the third time (does wonders with each read) or try to continue with St. Hildegard's Scivias (Visions)?

Maybe it has to do with just needing music today, harmony, and a sense of the passage of time and lives lived, and some joyful upbeat to remind me to keep fighting the darkness that this type of pain can levy upon a person.  Perhaps it is to remain with a finger on the pulse of the world out there, too, and with people whose lives might have seemed as if nothing ever should go wrong with all that physical health, money, and talent.  

But things do happen, and how joyful to see others try to overcome and that they succeed into their later years or else turn within the time given of shorter lifespans.  I might try Teresa yet this evening; she is not as mind-testing as Hildegard's visions.  For those, not only does one use the verbal spheres of the brain but also the image-related spheres--and yes, I know that "spheres" is not the proper term. I simply cannot think past the headache enough to grasp the physiological term--quadrant is not correct, either.  Hemisphere?  That is closer--lobe?  Maybe.

Well, uncommon or common, it does not matter to me whichever the term for a hermit who listens to and watches some impious YouTube videos on a Sunday afternoon when struggling with darkness, struggling with way too much pain of body and head--which I often categorize as separate from the body, depending on how severe the spinal headache.  Today's has it separated out, for it is too much for me to consider all that pain connected.

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us love one another as Jesus loves us, whether we are common or uncommon to our views and perspectives.