Catholic Hermit: Letters from the Spiritual Da

In this time of waiting on the Lord, waiting for what is next, for any message or signal, or not, or not yet, I was going to attempt reading the pile of letters I've saved over the years, from my dearest Spiritual Da.

I wonder if I will ever be able to read through one without weeping, or make through two (and am just at the last note card sent and a short sheet of aged handwriting on his trademark, yellow, legal notebook-size ledger paper.  (He always wrote out his homilies:  fresh.  He was an "Order of the Present Moment" priest.  Lived in the present moment.  He studied Scripture anew with each day, formulating by the grace of the Holy Spirit, his homilies--not lengthy but short, pithy, inspired by God and the angels and saints.

The sisters at the dying out convent (many had lost their founder's charism before he arrived: August, 1991--a last chaplain for them because he was wise as a serpent and quiet as a dove) would doze or hold in priest-envy and resentment; their leadership team and others led other-lives of joining in league with other angry religious sisters, convinced they'd be priestesses and change the Church for the better.

But the Spiritual Da would endure, non-phased, wistfully comment on rare occasion that he wondered why it was that more and more were dying off and no one joining.  He gave them the benefit of the doubt--explaining to me that in some ways, their angry feminism and new age-ideologies were not all their fault because they were told by various priests at the time of Vatican II, that the Church was going to allow them all to become priestesses, and radical changes would transpire.  So they had their hopes up, and what they hoped for did not occur.  They found their purpose after they came back to the motherhouse in retirement, in doing as many older people do in retirement:  try to find relevance in the world.  

Of course, we may wonder why religious sisters would not seek relevance as always, in Christ.  But we may not have been promised things that one wonders why they so desired, anyway.  As I used to consider even prior to my conversion to Catholicism--what more power could a person want than to emulate the Virgin Mary!  Who can deny that Mary, the Mother of God and Mother of the Church, does not show us not only to her son, but to all the graces and power that love in her Son, Jesus Christ bestows on those who grasp Mary's blessedness. 

Well, I can't begin to write of all the aspects of which the Spiritual Da lived, taught, loved, preached, and provided all the Sacraments that a holy priest in Holy Orders is imbued to bestow upon the faithful!  And consider a saintly priest--the glory is compounded exponentially like the multitudinous stars in the universe.

As to how I was so blessed to meet the Spiritual Da, and he become my dearest Spiritual Da--too much for me to relate at this point.  There were marvelous and holy sisters at that convent--a faction of them praying for the others, with the Da being there for those who grasped their innate purpose and the power of Mary entrusting them with her dispensing of spiritual graces.  Yes, many a saintly sister buried in that convent cemetery, along with an archbishop and priest-founder.  The best of times, until the end times for that community.  The Spiritual Da remained steadfast there for the last  28 years of his life, passing at 99 years. 3 months, 11 days.

He'd not at all like me to mention what befell many of the sisters in the community's later years.  Yes, there were those holy sisters there who are saints in heaven, without doubt.  I recall several, and the others I know had their own life and spiritual and inner reasons for straying from the narrow path.  The jury is yet out on me, that is for sure.

Well, I'm obviously not ready to read through the pile of letters from my Spiritual Da. I have no idea what happened to the lengthy letters I'd type out or write long-hand.  He always wrote long-hand; and just his handwriting causes tears to threaten once more.  But I said aloud after I started to look at a third note, that I know he wants me to be happy, to not grieve. 

I apologized yet again for not having written in one of the last months of his life.  I had not been given the two he sent me; and I'd had to up and leave where I was staying and take a long drive to go elsewhere, and wait there while yet trying to find a place for relocating, for procuring a dwelling place, to begin again, in what now is Solus Deus Hermitage.  But no excuses!  I said that aloud to the Dearest Spiritual Da!  I recognize I was trying to detach, to let go, for the last time I saw him was painful, and difficult.  I did not do as I wished, not said as I wished; so tonight I apologized again for all that!  Time and distance of the temporal certainly informs perspective, improving it; and if fortunate, reality and honesty will shine through and not a perspective tainted with self-deception.

This was the final note.  Perhaps writing it, sharing it in my anonymous blog (the Lord knows I intended it to be anonymous, but the devil does tend to disrupt our intentions), will help me see them as not still full of his DNA and of how he is with God, and I remain here--with God, yes, but we all know what I mean.  I miss him very much, yet I knew it was time for him to leave me to it in this life.  He had hung on longer than he'd have liked, and was weary.  I do feel as if I abandoned him--a silly thought, I suppose, and nothing he'd want me to be sad about, for he'd not want to return  from his blessedness in Heaven.  I'd not want him to leave that for anything, for there is nothing here necessary.  What a victory, the Spiritual Da has won--hard-earned and long-deserved.

Dear [N--I will use here "nothing", one of my favorite appellations],

Happy New Year.  I pray that the coming year will bring you good health and the right medicine.  

I am comfortable and doing fairly well.  I spend most of the day in bed except to go to Mass in a wheelchair.  I don't write much and don't read except the newspaper.

N:  I wonder what are your plans for the future.  I hope you find a few good books and keep in touch with the supernatural. 

I find it hard to pray.  I tire so easily.

God love you, [N].
Really, you belong to God.
You are a saint.

~Father

So simple, so sweet, so the last note ever from my Dearest Spiritual Da.

Dearest Da, 

I'm struggling with the book-reading.  I have unpacked nearly all the marvelous, rare, exceptional, Catholic book collection and have three on the bed beside me:  Garrigou-Lagrange's Three Ages of the Interior Life,  Bruno de Jesus Maria's  Life of San Juan de la Cruz, and Three Mystics, edited by Bruno de JM, as well.  I see I have two others on the bed with me: Merton's The Last of the Fathers (about St. Bernard), and St. Bernard's Sermon of the Song of Songs, Vol 1.

No, I've not finished any of them, but I've begun yet another book sent me by the John of the Cross scholar and renowned expert, the prof I had for the course in Avila, Spain.  I know you remember all the escapades I was so blessed to experience after my mother passed--even if my pain disrupted some.

I've not done much--in bed most of the time here, too.  I am fatigued much from pain, but did start to prime a room upstairs that is dedicated to the saints:  The Saints' Room.  Your and all the priests' room I finished last spring prior to the spine surgery.  I also finished the Angels' Room nearly a year ago.  Still have to get closet doors fitted and hung, and the entry doors to the room cut and hinged and so forth.  You know all this, here in spirit.

So you also know the reason I decided to try to read your letters tonight--and that I cannot manage to get through them due to emotions I was not expecting.  Still grieving--but not maybe that so much as missing your talking with me, the laughs, the incredible spiritual conversations as well as our talk of the Church and all her fluctuations but ever flowing until the end of time on earth, then Christ's Church forever in heaven.

I need you to give me some indication of my dilemma, the crossroads or choice I sense the Lord is asking of me.  I know on earth what you advised and would yet, no doubt; but now you see from the fullness of Christ's Light.  You know more the "lay of the land," and can guide me if God allows and wills, from your perch.  I'm asking John of the Cross, too, for somehow he seems to be the focus of the books I'm actually reading.  Yes, I have a few good books to read!  Slow, but reading a little!

God Bless His Real Presence in you, dearest Spiritual Da.
Love in His Love,

[Nothing]

P. S.  Looking forward to being there with you.  Thanks, BTW, for arranging for Fr. M at the parish accepting the mystical ecstasy (that I figure you fully understand now so any help with that--please!), and thanks for arranging for the hermit-priest director, who I think is trying to come up for air as I've come to this crossroads type decision to make, a choice, I suppose which includes, of course, a non-decision.  He's not used to me.  Ha ha!  Help him out, if God wills!  Had to laugh, when I met him and after a short while, he said as you used to say:  "I've never met anyone like you!  Different, but in a very good way!"  I even told him how you used to say that and similar.  I did not go into the bulk of the mystical stuff.  No need to, or so I feel.  Just too much, it is.  People can't deal with it.  

Catholic Hermit: Hermit Vow of Consecration of Suffering

Last evening I renewed my Consecration of Suffering.  Nearly 20 years ago I first made this vow, of consecrating every aspect of my body, mind, heart, and soul in its suffering, to seemingly every aspect of whatever God can use of my constant pain--in addition to all types of suffering a human being could possibly face in a lifetime.

Since Padre Pio became a canonized saint, I have renewed the vow, consecrating myself, on his feast day, Sept. 23, which is also the day he passed from this earth exactly 50 years since he received the visible stigmata--wounds on his body as Christ's wounds were on His.

My first offering was made in the presence of my spiritual director, my venerable spiritual father, my spiritual "da", as he became over the 24 years he guided my spiritual journey and matters of my soul.  Some years I renewed the vow aloud in the presence of whatever priest of whichever parish, in front of the altar in the sanctuary (privately, only God, the priest, myself, and various angels and saints present).

Some years I would list the particular saints included that year.  Other years I did not list them; the paper upon which the Consecration vow was written is rather full.  Then when in the farmhouse Te Deum Hermitage, I could not some years of the 5 1/2 there get to the file cabinet in which I keep my important papers.  The couple of times I could get to the file, I'd renew the vow on whatever day, with God alone and the angels and saints, and any from the other side invisibly with me.

Now that I am more unpacked and settled than in several years, alone here in Solus Deus Hermitage, I renewed the vow of Consecration of Suffering in the invited presence of my spiritual da, now himself on the other side.  This may seem strange (but not to many of you), but he sat across from the end of my bed in an antique, green leather upholstered chair from my childhood.  (There was a set of the two chairs--diminutive with graceful lines, the chairs--and one of my sisters has the other chair, or at least was given it by my mother when she divided the family heirlooms prior to her passing.)

Since the spiritual da is without his temporal form now, I renewed the vow by silently reading each word, rather marveling at the profundity and broad scope, the full and heart-felt intention--and also bemused some at my intensity and in some ways way beyond what I could possibly then have known just how serious and all-encompassing would be my holy and sincere offering of all aspects of suffering.

One line reminded me of a major locution I'd received--out loud, it was, one morning in mid-summer, 1995.  I awoke with pain, of course, and heard a strong, firm voice make more a commanding declaration as opposed to a simple comment or suggestion.  "By the power of this locution, your suffering and the suffering of Holy Mother Church SHALL BE MADE ONE."

Now, a locution such as that one would think not easy to forget.  For one thing, the sheer fact of hearing a voice in one's bedroom speak out loud like that, when one is wide awake and has not even yet been confirmed into the Catholic Church, should be so utterly unusual it seems impossible to pack away and forget.  Yet I have for the most part.  There is always so much occurring in daily life with all the pain and suffering on-going, and the effort extended to try to manage the various pains and painful situations plus live out the responsibilities and pray be for others far more than self at least through love and prayers.

Plus there are various locutions, visions, mystical experiences, interactions with the Holy Spirit, God the Father, Jesus Christ, angels, saints, souls in heaven and purgatory, odd temporal experiences--the mind tends to flow from one to another; and all the more I learn increasingly (not perfectly) to live in the Order of the Present Moment, I factor that the mystical events of the past are safely utilized in God's timelessness.  My human mind could not possibly keep all of these experiences in the forefront.  

However, such as in the renewal of each word, each thought, each offering to my spirit-spiritual da last evening, the clarity and vivid actuality of the locution over 24 years ago was as real and powerfully shaking as it was then.  I recall at the time I did not even know what is "Holy Mother Church."  I had not met my spiritual da yet, although within a month or so, would.  So I asked the priest who the Lord had told me would be the priest I was to go to when I was to convert to Catholicism.  I asked that priest, "What is Holy Mother Church?"  

He said it was an old term for the Catholic Church and didn't know much more, he said.  Well, I'm sure he might have or could have, but he was rather a tricky one with temporal moodiness and intemperate bouts of charm and anger, kindness and resentment.  It became so severe and directed toward me, the more he insisted I tell him my spiritual life and the more I shared, that when the Lord had me mercifully meet who was to be my spiritual da, the spiritual da told me that St. Teresa of Avila herself said "better no spiritual director than a bad one."

Anyway, last night I was all-over-again stunned by the remembrance of that particular locution.  The intensity of the "shall be made one" once more reminded me of just how serious the suffering I've been bequeathed, and how spiritually imbued it is, and how bonded in the power and love of the Holy Trinity, the Virgin Mary, the angels and saints, the Church in all aspects, essences, persons living and dead, on earth and in heaven.

That very locution, and why not quite five years after its pronouncement I had then placed it within the context and content of this vow of suffering--I can only assume, along with all the other words in the consecration, are inspired by the Holy Spirit.  While I an laugh at my lengthy vow of consecration, indeed it does cover everything that I'm fairly certain any human could possibly conceive to include.  Maybe St. Thomas Aquinas may have added something more?  Or he, being the great theologian and writer, might have done far better at consolidating the offering.

Regardless, I know yet again, perhaps more so than ever before, that the Lord has asked of me, bequeathed to me, and joined all suffering that has been, is, and will be in my existence, in an ineffable union with all that is and was and shall be of God's Holy Church.  

I've learned since (and it does make sense to me now) that the Holy Spirit used the term "Holy Mother Church) to emphasize that the Church is as a mother to her members, as the Church is the Bride of Christ.  I was but a few short weeks from my confirmation as a Catholic; it is at least personally significant because as a mother to her members, all the other churches from the time of Christ (and thus Christianity) have had their origin or have derived from her--the Catholic Church.  

At some point, I may or may not share my consecration to suffering with my current parish priest.  I rather doubt it necessary, although it might be helpful to him in some way regarding the vast size of the parish and his mention to me in confessional one time, that he had so many parishioners who suffer yet do not grasp the value, do not have the joy that he noted in me.  (Well, I definitely pointed out to him as I do to you readers or anyone else, that my joy in suffering is as imperfect as a human being can be.  I struggle very much!  

Yet I dared listen to a prompting of the Holy Spirit in February, 2000, and on Feb. 15 of that that month the Vow of Consecration of Suffering flowed out of my body, mind, heart, and soul.  I'd discussed this prompting with my spiritual da, of course, prior.  In his quarters just off the old chapel, I knelt on the floor and repeated the words, and he as priest who by then knew me better than anyone ever on earth, witnessed in fullness of being and signature. 

I recall his smile and Irish voice asking if that was my very blood inside the small, outlined heart-shape down by the line for my own signature.  He was amazed in a way, yet found the rightful humor in my somewhat sentimental but heart-felt drop or two of shed blood from a small finger-prick.

I know I've written of this vow of consecration of suffering prior--perhaps in a post of my Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart blog.  Or perhaps I have shared it in some past year of this blog.  I don't recall having shared the content, not the complete fullness of it.  I'm not sure I'm to do that, to share the full-page wordage with other people.  Perhaps sometime I will share the aspects or categories covered; but you can think through if you were to offer your own sufferings, what all the Holy Spirit and your angel might prompt you to include.  

I cannot advise others to make such a vow of consecration of suffering.  It is dangerous to do so, I suppose--and especially not with a holy priest or bishop spiritual director who knows his spiritual son or daughter well, through and through, and who is well-grounded himself and guides one in spiritual balance and maturation.  The reality is, that one can offer something so beyond our understanding and fathoming, and requires such faith in that one must be prepared to trust fully in God and hang on to Him for dear life, with all and of whatever suffering is asked and of which God allows.

Last night I also asked Padre Pio again to forgive me of my wrong, my sin, long ago, as he'd warned me of a trick of the devil coming, and I did not recognize nor avoid it.  I've asked him to please guide me yet again, if God so wills.  St. Pio of Pietrelcina certainly knows suffering; but of course, Jesus knows perfectly, suffering.  Whatever God wills--for I now am facing more suffering than prior not only with the spine pain worsening with age (despite this surgery's pain outcome) plus various other human sufferings involved when one seeks union with God more fully.

Well, the Lord knows.  And I know that what all strength, courage, perseverance--whatever virtues--needed will be given me in whatever means and with the assistance of whomever the Lord chooses, for me and anyone intently sincere and devoted to seeking union with God with complete abandon.  (And as to complete abandon, of course we do not know exactly what is "complete"; we offer with as sincere a full abandonment as we can fathom in the present moment.  God knows  and is ALL.)

God bless His Real Presence in us!

Catholic Hermit Rejoices!

I was informed that a hermit colleague has been blessed with a spiritual gift, a spiritual phenomenon.  I am rejoicing over this news!  This particular hermit has in the past has seemed more leaning to the laws of minds; thus I have been praying for some time for the Holy Spirit to reach into the hermit's soul and inflame it with a touch of God's law of love, of the supernatural realities which soften us and remind us that the temporal is passing but the realm of the Spirit is eternal.

We can be reminded of St. Thomas Aquinas, a scholar of theology, an erudite writer of great intellect who spent the bulk of his priestly years in studious development and provision of theological thoughts and premises.  His contribution is appreciated to this day in many ways; but toward the end of Aquinas' life, he experienced a profound mystical event, opening him to the law of God, the law of love.

Henceforth, Aquinas left off his studious and legal, theological laden writings.  He is known to have exclaimed following the mystical experience:  "All words as are straw" as he compared his voluminous writings to the touch of God's Spirit upon him in a very real yet mystical sense.  Aquinas wrote no more.  He turned to a life of prayer and love of God.

St. Bernard, on the other hand, discovered the power of God's love over studious interpretations of canon laws and aspects of theology.  He seemed to grasp the spiritual hindrance of too much thinking with the "head" rather than the spiritual progression of thinking with the "heart."  Bernard of Clairvaux had union in God's love earlier on in his life and wrote of the desire of God to have union with us in His love.  He expounded beautifully of the four degrees of love and especially the pinnacle of such love being loving God in Himself.

When I was informed of my fellow hermit's spiritual experience, I smiled inwardly and have been rejoicing outwardly in my hermitage, while I work and pray.  I smiled for two reasons.  One is that I am overjoyed with this development in the spiritual life of my comrade in the eremitic vocation, as a fellow Catholic, fellow consecrated hermit even if our professions differ, our vows and rules of life differ in what amounts to minor details in the full spectrum of life.  

I am praising the Lord for the softening and awe of love that occurs when one--and this applies to any one of us--receives a spiritual gift from God.

The other inner smiling comes from the effect that when I had written about a spiritual gift the Lord gave me, that of mystical ecstasy during Mass, my description was rather met otherwise--with suggestion by my colleague that I was mentally unstable, emotional, hysterical, a fraud, etc.  

So it is that the Lord in his loving kindness alters our ways of being by giving us a gift in which we then can realize what such gifts are like, and He bestows in us a means of knowing deep within that the gift is genuine or not--regardless of what others may surmise.  The Lord has His way of then showing us that we are not the judge, but he Is.  I've been shown this, myself, in the past and am grateful to be reminded of the lesson to be learned over and over.

So it is that we can know our gifts are genuine; the Lord lets us know in various means and ways hard to describe.  I trust that we have excellent spiritual directors as well as have enough common sense to recognize the techniques of deception plied upon us by the devil.   And we do well to be far more scrutinizing of ourselves than what others might be.   In fact, it is better to scrutinize ourselves sufficiently than for others to judge from afar.  

The fruit of spiritual experiences can vary in the externals, but to the soul itself they bring a closer abiding in God, a greater sense and delight in His love of us, and create a deeper desire in us to love God in Himself above all things.  From this love of God in Himself, God's love flows through us so that we, in turn, love one another as He loves us.

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!  Now when I see the prayer tree I planted as a reminder to pray and praise God for my fellow hermit colleague (as well as for all hermits, but this colleague in particular) I will rejoice for the spiritual gift that my fellow hermit has received!  It is a time for rejoicing!

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us love one another and let us love God in Himself.

(And it is also a time for me to rise after extended, bodily rest and to continue installing ceiling boards.  Finish up the nailing of boards!  I have an aunt to pray for in a major way; I've not been praying nearly enough for this soul who is advanced in years and currently obsessing over the writing of her own obituary, desiring that others appreciate her.  I heard my late dad's voice last night remind me, regarding such aspects:  "Don't toot your own horn."  He always had a way of hitting the nail on the head with such aphorisms, wise advice.)

Catholic Hermit, the Lord Answers

It is not often that this nothing consecrated Catholic hermit has a phone conversation with my spiritual father.  But not long ago, he called.  Among other aspects, I reported that in his letter he'd said to get the house done and get to my writing.

"So what should I write?" I asked.  "What genre--one of the book ideas or keep writing on my blog?"

I added that between tending the gardens and trying to make progress on this place, and praying and trying to do spiritual reading, plus with pain fatigue, I did not have seemingly the energy or focus to write much of length.

He said he was not savvy with technology--computers, internet, and so forth.  But whatever it is--a blog or whatever I can write--to just keep writing!

So I have.  I have continued with the blog writing despite not knowing if what I am writing is helpful to anyone in particular.  I try to go with God's flow and the Order of the Present Moment.  I share personal experience as a Catholic hermit, privately professed, a member of the Body of Christ and in accordance with the institutes of the Church and the United States Bishops, an eremitic in the Consecrated Life of the Church.

Yes, my hermit life has its growth phases.  Physical pain does seem to interfere with energy level, and thus my daily horarium is more a "momentarium"--whatever of each present moment the Lord allows as well as what my body, mind, heart, and spirit can do, think, feel, and aspire!

But I have been writing on this blog, not knowing if that is what the Lord desires for now yet very much knowing He understands implicitly and explicitly my temporal and spiritual circumstances.  He knows I am doing my mortal, imperfect best.

The blog views have increased amazingly, setting records for views.  Who knows if the views equate with people reading through the posts?  Who knows if those who do read through are benefitting in any way?  Only God knows.  But I figure this is the genre to continue with for now, or the level of readership would not be increasing to this degree, nor would there be an increase in the number of countries of which the viewership derives.

Often in life, we do not have a means of knowing even with basic tools, the fruit of our efforts.  I do not have a specific statistical means for this blog but rather have chosen a very basic modality which simply offers an overview of posts viewed, countries of readership, and search engines used. 

The variety of countries represented by you dear readers--well, it is a source of more prayers from me to you and for you, plus for your countries.  I discover new places on this earth, such as recently the island of Mauritius.  It is fascinating that also, recently, Russia has exceeded viewership over the United States.  The Lord is expanding my window to the world to people and places I might not otherwise think about! 

Perhaps it would be better to not have any such means of knowing, but Google includes this with the blog site and thus it is as it is.  I accept it as a gift--a means of discernment in writing as well as a well-spring of prayer intentions.

Maybe for no other reason that to discern that yes, the Lord is showing me  since I asked my spiritual father what I should write--the blog statistics are a blessing to help me know to just keep writing, and to keep writing the blog...for now.

Perhaps if I am able at some point, if the Lord wills, writing other than a blog, such as writing a small book or a larger one--the Lord will let me know in some way or another.  This is how He operates within our lives.  He always lets us know.  Had the readership fallen off instead of surging ahead rather dramatically, I would now be trying my best to write even a short book despite not having access to camera or undistracted capability to better focus on something of lengthier magnitude.

So this works.  Blog-writing fits the present moment circumstances. I can't say that it is all that great of writing, not super-quality, but it is from the heart and what I can manage at this phase of my temporal, spiritual, hermit-lived life.  And most of all, regarding what to write for now:  the Lord answered.

God bless His Real Presence in all of us, little children, as we remember to love one another as Jesus loves each of us and all of us, no matter what.

Catholic Hermit Has Surprise Call!

The spiritual father (or spiritual director; I interchange the terms, but mine is a "father" as in holy priest, someday a saint) called unexpectedly!  These calls are quite rare as he does not have ready access to a telephone.  He is unable to write much, either.

The call came through mid-brushstroke.  Am putting the final finish coat of Simply White on the window apron-sill with reveal and wrap boards.  (I have yet to measure and cut the window casing boards.  Dave at the lumberyard is teaching me the proper terms which is helpful when communicating or receiving carpentry instructions!)

The spiritual father said my last letter seemed as if I was very low because the test results came back that I do not have cancer.  I was able to tell him that yes, I was depressed over the news.  He understood, especially the more I explained the lovely hopes and thoughts as well as reminded him of the essences of the death experience nearly 29 years ago this month.

One delightful aspect of dying, as I was able to share with him, was that I would be on the other side before him, and I could wait there and joyously welcome him.  But the main excitement had to do with our work for souls.  Since he is a priest forever in the Order of Melchizedek, he could be my priest for eternity, and I could assist him with our work for SOULS!

He exclaimed what a wonderful thought, and that he was sure we would have great times in heaven, and that he, too, desired to be on the other side and was eager for death, as well, even if he did not know what it would be like to die.

We talked on about how it is that the Lord has us yet here, although I could be electrocuted doing some wiring, but not likely.  I do turn off the panel box when wiring outlets or light fixtures, the few done thus far as there really is not one single room in this hermitage that is finished.  The bathroom is perhaps the closest to that, or was, until the third cabinet order was incorrect, and now we will await a fourth try.

I did ask my spiritual father what type of writing should I do?  Did he have anything in mind since he'd written awhile back to "finish the [expletive] house and get to my writing?  He did not.  He just repeated, keep writing!  So for now I will continue on with the blog writing as I'm not convinced my circumstances temporally lend themselves to perhaps more cohesive and thoughtful writing, such as a book.

Yet I will pray about it, and the Lord will show me the way.

We spoke of the verse I noticed from today's Isaiah reading, the one on faith.  If we have faith, we will remain firm.  So it is in faith that my spiritual father and I accepted that we are yet on this earth, each of us in our suffering, and each of us living in more austere hermit-like environments than we could have anticipated, ever.

I am confined to my cell in this hermitage in the desert exile, and he to two small cells in a rather shabby facility of which privacy is not prevalent.  But he manages, and I manage, in faith that is firm and in suffering out our lives in prayer and penance for souls.  

Yes, I am certain it will be more fun when we are freed from our earthly prisons, our suffering bodies.  He is limited in mobility, and I am limited in pain.  Yet, see how marvelous a simple phone call and the communication and joy of two souls understanding one another, although at first he was a bit concerned for most people would find a non-malignant test result to be good news.  Quickly he grasped the point, for he, too, looks forward with desire and longing to see God's Face.

Nausea visits this nothing consecrated Catholic hermit's body this afternoon.  A hermit is to be hospitable, so I offered my gut some coconut water and a pain med as well as a mattress on the floor.  Welcome, friend Pain.  Before long, I will rise and lug in the air compressor from front porch, the trim nail gun, and attempt to nail the trim to the ceiling along the edges between drywall and tongue-and-groove board ceiling.  Then, God willing and body able, I must paint the ceiling a final time.

It will all be prayer.  All of it; and I will include friend Pain in the efforts, since it does not seem to ever want to leave, not even to take a nap or go away on a walk, giving me some rest from hosting.  I will think as God thinks, in Love and Mercy.

Catholic Hermit Hears from Spiritual Father

Well, he also may be termed "spiritual director".

There is so much still I could be writing about, of so many spiritual matters, of Scripture, of daily occurrences and adventures the Lord provides non-stop, in every present moment.  But today came a letter in the mailbox.  It is rare to get one, but there it was, and in it the spiritual father wrote of how he enjoyed my last correspondence to him.

This nothing consecrated Catholic hermit had written of thoughts about our being chained to souls to help with their salvation, to bring them to the glory of Christ's salvation.  The spiritual father had but one directive after adding some thoughts and liking what this hermit had written.

"Get that damn house done and get to your writing!"

I had to laugh.  He does not use expletives that I've ever heard over the years.  But, he wanted emphasis, I am sure.

However, the Lord does not seem to be letting up on my getting the house done fast or at all.  Things have happened in the past couple of weeks, even the last week, that I am not going to write about now but will later.

One thing, though, today: Doug the cabinet installer arrived.  The new, kitchen replacement cabinets had arrived on Tuesday, stacked into the other end of the width of house back room area.  There was going to be a kitchen again, perhaps by Monday even if no sink until after template made and countertop ordered.

But no, not to be.  A glitch occurred when Doug opened up the box with the kitchen sink base cabinet.  Wrong kind ordered.  So he was able to set the base cabinets except that one, and will be back in three or so weeks whenever the correct sink base cabinet arrives.  

Thankfully, Lowe's was cooperative without months of delay in getting the cabinet situation remedied. By this evening, it will be on order.  The Lowe's crew and this hermit are all by now on first-name basis, and they know I persevere--as I should.  Right is always right, and I had specifically reminded the cabinet employee to make sure she order an apron front sink base--not the standard.  

Way back, the first time they ordered cabinets for the kitchen (the ones that had been discontinued for being so terrible), they had not ordered the apron front style kitchen base cabinet and had to re-order the correct one.  Third time is the charm!  I am convinced that adage has to do with the power of the Holy Trinity.  For me, the spiritual undergirds all; and I think this is the truth, and many perceive it, not just me.

Anyway, I can't get the "damn house" finished any time soon.  I may have to bail out before it is finished.  All that is up to the Lord, as are all things up to the Lord.  I have put in calls for someone to come help work on things I cannot do by myself or even myself; I get no responses.  The neighbor boy was to come this afternoon, and I left a phone message, but no young man came.

Instead, came a phone call from a young woman I've known since she was eight years old.  We had a deeply spiritual yet practical conversation.  We are connected in that way, and there is a reason she called today even though she said something had her call me after maybe 8 months of not hearing from her. I could not tell her why it is, not yet.

I'm still chuckling over the dilemma, as I, too, have very much felt I am to be writing, not working on an old house and up-keeping the grounds.  However, time is running out, and I am mostly very tired after working on projects; or I have been laid up with one thing or another physically and thus not that well to write much or at least not substantively.

But I will pray and ask the Lord if I am to try more to work and write, and to please give me the energy and wherewithal to do the writing if so.  I am definitely getting lots of praying in, plus have met various people amidst some recent adventures--not intending to, of course.  Good to live in the Order of the Present Moment and let the Lord unfold His Will, moment by moment.

God bless His Real Presence in us, little children!  Let us love one another as Jesus loves us!

Return to Silence, The Divine Office, and Other Considerations

After being called out to civilization for a charitable visit and gathering a few provisions, have returned to the silence, solitude, and slowness of this beautiful life of stricter separation from the world in assiduous prayer and penance...and very much that of praising His Real Presence!  The physical body needs much rest and to recover, and to manage the physical pain, so wearing.

Fr. V. has emailed his guidance from across the globe and reminds that if am "unable to go [to Mass] there isn't much problem. Just have enough time of silence and meditation and then offer nice praises to God.  Today's readings call for deep reflection.  God through the prophet tells us that he could reveal himself anywhere and he choose anyone as his instrument."  He knows the circumstances and details of this nothing Catholic hermit's circumstances. 

It is best to have a priest spiritual adviser who knows one's health, physical and spiritual life, vocation, and past and current situation.  For a hermit, it also is best, and this from over 14 years experience of living the eremitic life (which may not seem that long but does offer fair perspective) to have as a spiritual guide an Order priest more familiar with spiritual and eremitic life, or a priest living an eremitic life who is formed more in contemplative religious vocations than what training and formation a diocesan cleric could reasonably have or offer.

Recently the young married woman and mother who discusses once a week via phone the book The Spiritual Combat (Scupoli), asked why it is a diocese priest would not have a better grasp of hermit life.  She thought it a lapse or flaw that ought be remedied, that the diocesan priests and bishops ought to have a better understanding, a historical understanding as well as specific.  

But this hermit thinks not.  How many hermits did the young woman know from her parish growing up and now the one she attends?  (The question was recently also asked of a life-long Catholic man in his late 50's, very involved in his large and active parish.)  Their answers were: "None."  

This nothing Catholic hermit recalled meeting with a parishioner a year ago, at the bequest of a Jesuit priest in a very social activist parish.  The parishioner is their designated spiritual director, and she admitted she did not know anything about the eremitic vocation nor did she know any hermits.

And, truly, why should they need to know?  For example, in a marvelous parish of over 2000 families, the priests had not dealt with a hermit prior.  We can see of what their time and energy ought be spent:  the full range of active adult parishioners, the ill, the many children, single lay adults--not on a hermit who may happen along, if ever.  They do not even need to know there is a hermit worshiping with them, if one does.  

And it is not necessary for them to know, nor to spend time reading books or researching lives of hermits throughout Church history.  This is what the hermit ought be doing for a better grasp of his own vocational understanding, plus in developing a strong life of prayer.  To learn from and model one's hermit vocation after the lives of the historical and canonized hermits of the Church whose existences evolved into spiritual successes of humility and later sanctity, is the best grounding and training for any hermit, publicly or privately professed.  


Of the various priests and bishops known to this nothing Catholic hermit, none of them have had experience with hermits nor anything beyond a cursory knowledge.  Only one knew of a hermit he recalled from seminary days years past--seminary of a Benedictine monastery.  The hermit he recalled was a priest who would come into the monastery once a week, if that often, for some supplies and brief contact with his superior.

And, of course, leaning not unto thine own understanding, but turning to His Real Presence as one's source and Source of beauty, truth and goodness, is key.  Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  Following in His footsteps, in any vocation, is the way through this earthly existence to our heavenly reward.

_____________


From the week-ago conversation with the hermit priest in the small monastery up the road, this nothing Catholic hermit gained a necessary reminder to tighten the spiritual focus of its vocation.  Am praying the Divine Office in all its hours, and doing so with attempted slowness and stillness.  Yes, the mind wants to scatter, but one must bring it back into silence, solitude and slowness.

It is amazing what other hermits might share either in life or from their extant writings, that helps one in his own eremitic daily life of loving service through prayer, praise and penance.  Even something that reminds one not to do, is a benefit.  

Am recalling two priests (not hermits) who led a pilgrimage, and their reading aloud together their morning and evening offices, in front of the group of pilgrims when waiting in shrine lines or on the bus.  They read it so quickly, that words were indistinguishable.  It became more a public routine which could inspire those with them, but more became a point of humor in a way due to the rushed performance. That is an ever-reminder to this hermit to pray the Office, not race it.

When this hermit asked the hermit priest last week about their daily horarium, what stood out was their praying the Jesus prayer as they worked, and that they doubled up on two of the "hours", twice--that is, praying aloud two, one after another.  The other "hours" were prayed privately.  

Since this nothing Catholic hermit had asked about their horarium (daily physical and spiritual schedule) due to its own recognized lapsing, the thought arose that when only two hermit priests and one hermit monk living in very close quarters felt a need to double up praying the Divine Office hours, there really should be no need to double them.  Why not simply stop whatever other work or possible distractions, and pray them individually, not doubling up?  The spaced praying is part of the effort in training the body, mind, heart and soul to turn to God throughout day and night.

Time spent in a Cistercian monastery and having done much reading on the Carthusians, reminded that over 40 men (in the Cistercian monastery) stopped their tasks and also rose in the night, to pray each Office with reverent deliberation.  All these thoughts have brought this Catholic hermit, the solitary of Te Deum House, to return to praying the Offices.  

There is simply no excuse for this nothing Catholic hermit to not pray all of them and cease whatever other activity, in order to give first place to praise and prayer of and in His Real Presence.  

(This is to not suggest it is easy, though.  This hermit has experience with various temptations and weaknesses against doing what otherwise is a small offering  of the few minutes out of all the time God gifts, to pray each "Hour" of the Divine Office!)  

So, to begin once again, to bring this hermit's will into loving discipline and in union with the many hermits whether together in monasteries or living in solitude around the world, who pray the Divine Office in its beneficial fullness.

It is a small thing, truly.  But in the life of a hermit, it is a primary call to immerse oneself in the Living Word of His Real Presence, and to enter into love of God in Himself, and in Him, to be praying for all the people in the whole world, in the universe.  Pray for those souls on this side of the veil and those souls on the other, for all souls are the community to which the hermit belongs, for whom the hermit prays, loves, and does so through, with, and in His Real Presence:  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little Children, let us love one another, as He loves us!