The hospice vigils truly transcend. This morning a telephone call guided me to the elderly care Center of St Mary and Joseph, a facility founded by the Sisters of the Poor. It is another marvelous encounter. God is good and all giving. The patient was Catholic beyond belief. The room was adorned with beautiful images: Sacred Heart of Jesus, Divine Mercy St Joseph, Immaculate Heart of Mary. Catholic literature everywhere. A Crucifix standing proud. Walking to the room, I passed the chapel as mass was beginning. Seating myself with the patient, we preceded to watch the center’s Mass on her room television. As the Mass advanced in the Eucharistic celebration, just before the dispensing of the Host, two staff members entered the room in order to tend to the patient. At first I found the intrusion bothersome. Then as I stood in the hallway I grasped the reality I could walk down the hall and receive communion. It all seemed perfect. After Mass, digesting the Eucharist, a sister from the order entered the room detailing the patient’s life. She was an amazing woman, a gifted piano player, experiencing years of missionary work in Chile, a devout and advanced Catholic throughout her life. It dawned on me I can practice my Spanish with her. Tomorrow I will spend four more hours with her. I will pray a rosary in Spanish. She taught Spanish in school. What a thrill. I have been practicing. God blessed me with the perfect opportunity to exercise. A resident, a prayerful woman, sat with me throughout the visit. Together we prayed a Rosary. EWTN played throughout the visit a prayer service by Pope Francis and the biography of Mother Angelica filling our time with meaning. I found a thought of Pope Francis powerful. He stressed that every individual is held in the teeth of God. The mercy and love of God holding every one firm. A little scary, yet Wow! God please do not bite down, as in truth, you most likely should.
Hospice work proves essential in a deeper calling into immersion, an encounter with Christ. Taken out of my life and into others develops interiorly, supplementation, nurturing a sound anchoring in Mass, the Eucharist, and prayer. The ‘Dago’ called today. Her husband passed away. What can one say? Kind words, a text of consolation offering support, and prayers. Always, faith, hope and charity. God is good and all giving.
I received a sane, educated email from the ecclesiastical minister detailing our continued gathering after the culmination of ‘Arise’. I like the plain, simple, learned approach of her mind, the intentions of a woman able to humbly and easily adapt herself to communal life. Nothing strange, no visions, no spiritual superiority, nothing extravagant, no weirdness. It is becoming essential to my spiritual life, ways anchored within quiet still prayer, contemplative Adoration. Recently, I encountered a wonderful Vietnamese woman, a delight whenever we meet. She is always insisting everyone witness her supernatural photos of the Eucharist hovering about, and other incredible extra ordinary events she captures with her camera. Observing the photos, I noticed the beautiful Adoration chapel at St Clare was included in her supernatural wanderings. I pointed out how much I enjoyed the chapel, mentioning the statue of Mary. She became elated and excited, barely able to contain the abundance of words bursting forth. She told me of placing her hands in the hands of Mary, a motion of mercy I myself have practiced, and then Mary lifting her into the air and tossing her about. Mary raised her from the ground, rocking her back and forth, swinging her mightily, her hands glued to Mary’s while her feet flew to the right and then dramatically to the left. I could only laugh, and stammer ‘Oh my gosh’, while inside thinking with tickled cordial calmness ‘no, no, no, NO!!!’ Of course it is not a matter of believing or not believing her, rather being absolutely opposed to the necessity of supernatural events being a part of one’s spiritual life. St John of the Cross is adamant, as well as others, that the supernatural is not to be sought, nor to be romanticized. NOT at all!!! Anyway, back to the structured methodical ways of those I was blessed with through the ‘Arise’ gatherings. I am posting a part of her email:
I looked for the book that we were interested in. It is part of a series of four books entitledWhy Catholic,based on the Catechism. The volume that most people were interested in was calledLive: Christian Morality. The first six chapters, which we could cover by the end of June, “present the moral teachings of the Catholic faith, beginning with the Beatitudes and explore the principles of freedom and responsibility, conscience, virtues, morality, and grace.” The last six sessions, which focus on the Ten Commandments and their implications for Christian living, we could save for a later time.
Here is my email response: The program sounds interesting, fitting in well with a Father Gerald Vann book I have started titled ‘The Divine Pity’. I will see you next week. The cost of the book is no problem. A final note. The importance of the program for me is not introducing new ideas, expecting to learn things I have not been introduced to before, rather invigoration and enhancement, refined defining solidifying mature fellowship. And above all it is a practice in humility, not an opportunity to plague others will self-perceived brilliance, a crowd to bore with indulgent delusion–in reality establishing foes rather than friends. One must be careful and mindful moving forward in the spiritual life.
This is the opening page of my copy of Father Gerald Vann’s ‘Divine Pity’.
Saint Augustine’s Prayer
O Lord Jesus, let me know myself, let me know Thee and desire nothing but Thee alone.
Let me hate myself and love Thee; and take whatever happens as coming from Thee.
Let me humble myself and exalt Thee; and think of nothing but Thee alone.
Let me die to myself and live in Thee; and take whatever happens as coming from Thee.
Let me forsake myself and walk after Thee; and ever desire to follow Thee.
Let me flee from myself and turn to Thee; and so I may merit to be defended by Thee.
Let me fear for myself, let me fear Thee; and be among those who are chosen by Thee.
Let me distrust myself and trust in Thee; and ever obey for love of Thee.
Let me cleave to nothing but only to Thee; and ever be poor for the sake of Thee.
Look upon me, that I may love Thee.
Call me, that I may see Thee and forever possess Thee.
Amen.
A strong morning of Holy Spirit inspiration, filling and overflowing. Last night, I ended the vacation retreat at home with dinner at Tasty Pizza on Mayfield with Jim Nagel, enjoying the Monday special of buying one pasta dinner and getting a second free. Gail from the Hospice ended up sleeping for thirteen hours, declining a dinner invitation. I was surprised to receive wonderful texts from her this morning expressing her disappointment, insisting we must do something this weekend to make up for the lost time. I perceived a lowering of defenses within the morning message. I trust her immensely, associating her with the Hospice in general. She is in upper management at the corporate office intriguing me with her interest and efforts. I am positive this is something a woman like her does not do easily, nor often if even ever. If I could speculate I think the women within the Hospice have been talking. I am stunned she knows my vigils, providing details regarding my Hospice efforts I had no idea she would be familiar with. It only makes me chuckle. I cannot deny that anything associated with the Hospice comes easily, conversation with her breezy and flowing. God is good and all giving. It seems a dating experience is being placed upon my platter. There are several things simmering right now, a project with Father Kevin keenly within focus. The vacation retreat proved enlightening in regards to formation, a defining through non-defining, allowing insight through the perception of ways not to be. There are many efficacious thoughts that do not need to be expressed. A loving and nurturing nature preceding forward. I do not need to be right, nor demonstrate destructively. Once again, I will end with admiration for the mindset and spirituality of Abbot William in the anchoring of his life within prayer. It is where I am able to properly place myself before God. I would like to say that it was broached that my efforts with the Hospice must be anchored in humility. I have no doubt regarding my authenticity, no inclination to justify myself, while appreciating all caution provided by others. One of the strongest, and most effective, attributes is my absolute insecurity when sitting with a patient. I become consumed with fear that my frailties and imperfections will become an obstacle,. My faults demand to be addressed, my thorns examined. I am able to focus upon the patient through the realization and acknowledgment of my sinful tendencies. I fear I am not enough, and therefor able to touch upon truth, for I am not enough. There is no illusion of holiness pushing me forward, rather a proper apprehension that God penetrates me to the core. A fear of God propels forward. I plead with God to use me not for my sake, not to reject me for my failings, rather to use me for the one lying awaiting his judgement. Mercy an overwhelming cry. I find God is using me, allowing me to say proper things, and behave in ways I could not do on my own. It is truly marvelous to experience.
What a strange and wonderful final afternoon of a vacation retreat at home. A whirlwind of activity, coalescing within Mass at St Paul Shrine. The initiative blossomed to attend the Mass as a Hospice scheduler, a pleasant woman of casual acquaintance, has insisted time after time that she would like to meet me for Mass at the Shrine. I was never clear how she knew I attended the Shrine, speculating the news made it her way through the trainer I am working with in regards to educating the Franciscan Third Order on volunteering opportunities. Mass at the Shrine immediately proved remarkable as word of Mother Angelica passing away on Easter Sunday flittered about. The extraordinary only multiplied as John the Hermit explained to me this man from the Shrine, Tony, was assisting him in repairs upon his car. Of course, I know Tony as he is Ann’s cousin. I have been imploring John to just pay to have the repairs done, yet he declares he can do the work himself. Finally, an obvious solution presented itself. Yesterday, Easter Sunday, a strange thing happened that I have been struggling with. Mary gave me a wonderful Easter Card, thanking me for all I do for her, for allowing her to accompany me on visits to the elderly. Her thirty year career, a life she cherished, involved caring for the elderly at nursing homes as a nursing assistant was revisited by taking her to see patients. She is very good with patients. They love her small, soft, gentle Oriental way. Yesterday, we prayed a Rosary and Divine Mercy chaplet with the favorite patient in Huntsford. The patient is so much better, although I see feeling better for her only means the opportunity to complain and scold the nursing home staff. Her words to me: ‘They treat me like a dog around here, kicking me all the time. Let’s go to my home and have some nice cold drinks’. I explained that would not be possible, and that the staff was only trying to help her. Mary was very good in calming her, telling her to tell all her complaints to the Virgin Mary, who would then personally take her sorrows to Our Lord. Anyway, back to the Easter Card from Mary, upon opening the gift I found a hundred dollar bill. I did not know what to do. I felt it was not proper, yet something told me not to give the money back. My first reaction was I must give the money immediately back to her. Hearing about John’s car trouble a light turned on. I mentioned my discomfort with the hundred dollars from Mary, informing him that now it was clear what to do with the money. I begged him to take the money and use it to fix his car. It all worked out beautifully. This all swirled around the visit of the Hospice worker, Gail, to the Shrine to attend Mass. Something is up there, something good, yet calling forth patience. I am not sure, desiring not to define. She is inviting, breaking forth in approaching me on a personal level, yet hesitant, obviously fighting with herself about matters. She wants to get together, then pulls back, and finally we shared Mass together, although she arrived late. We were unable to touch basis before Mass. I remain patient, pleased with her advance. Now we wait upon dinner tonight. We could not have lunch, since she had a doctor’s appointment. She learned she has a respiratory infection. Dinner tonight is contingent upon a nap, a registering of how she feels. I am honored she even considers, smiling internally. There amidst it all was Ann, eliciting so much forth it is best not to comment. Yet within it all is a tremendous respect and desire to have her a part of my life. There is such a strong attraction she has upon me. God is good and all giving. This has been a special Lent, and a blessed Easter retreat at home. I did not even mention an amazing bedside vigil yesterday, the woman passing away early this morning. Nor did I say anything on an incredible and efficacious morning session with Lilly my Spanish tutor. Once again, God is good and all giving.
Last night Mass, followed by a two hour Adoration of the hidden Eucharist, at St Paul Shrine proved profound. Closing, Night Prayer from the Divine Office was conducted with the Poor Clares of Perpetual Adoration. A sincere bond has been formed with the cloistered sisters. Religious service with them deeply edifies the soul. Within the event a silent commitment filled my heart and mind, blossoming within prayer. It remains anonymous and secret. The four hour bedside Hospice vigil proved interesting yesterday. The man was actively dying within his home, surrounded by loving family. I honestly felt in the way, attempting to remain unburdensome, flexible and soft, demanding as little attention as possible. There were so many people about I simply spoke kindly when someone close addressed me directly. The oldest son took impressive charge of his father’s passing, holding his hand, a source of strength for those surrounding. He was quite an interesting man, a swimming coach, a celebrated swimmer competing at Orange High School. Coming out of high school, he rejected scholarship offers from Ohio State and Michigan in order to swim for a nonscholarship Division II California school. He felt a great longing to travel west after graduating from high school in 1986. He is now a swimming coach for a high school in Bakersfield, California—the home of Buck Owens. Currently, he is on sabbatical from that position in order to coach in Thailand for two years. He hosted an exchange student from Thailand, a gifted swimmer and followed the boy back to Thailand, taking his two daughters and wife along with him. His family is loving Thailand and Southeast Asia. He was telling me how many foreigners from Germany, England, and the United States retire in Thailand for the beauty and the fact the exchange rate is so ridiculous a serious retirement savings turns into great wealth in Thailand. Throughout Southeast Asia, he informs me there are English speaking international schools. He himself is not fluent in the language of Thailand, although his daughters are doing pretty good. Something funny he spoke about was the fact that the Thai people are childlike, stubborn in their refusal of improved ways. Many times he makes suggests of improvements, simple practical ideas, and almost always he is met with obstinacy. The refusal always: ‘we have been doing it this way for centuries why should we change now’. The childlike innocence he admires in the Thai people he admits can also be frustrating. They are so polite and friendly in refusing everything you present to them. As I was leaving, everyone was waiting for the eldest son’s son arrival. He was flying in from Hawaii, attending college at the University of Hawaii on a swimming scholarship. The Hospice would call and tell me the grandfather died an hour and a half after I left. I realized it must have been shortly after the arrival of his grandson. In terms of fellowship, God graced bountifully. I must be going. Mary is waiting on me. The two of us will be going to the Jennings Center to visit with the retired priest and another patient, then lunch followed by Stations of the Cross at St Paul Shrine. The car rental mix-up earlier in the week was made up for this morning when the agent offered me a brand new Charger with a Hemi. The decked out car is a beast of a race car. Driving will be an extravaganza this weekend. God is good and all giving.
Flexibility, patience, a willingness to detach from plans, seems to be the message early into an Easter vacation enjoyed at home. In other words, nothing has gone right on day one. After mass, Lilly never showed for our Spanish lesson. Once, we made contact I was surprised to hear a tremendous level of stress in her life. She was greatly agitated she forgot our lesson, apologizing over and over, explaining there are personal issues she is dealing with. Determined to convince me this is not who she is. I assured her I placed complete trust in her, explaining I had no doubt regarding her veracity, nor sincerity. I refused to allow her to go on apologizing, informing her of my decision to delight in my vacation at home, allowing an ease of altering plans. We will reschedule. I then received a series of texts, apologizing formally, explaining she has been overwhelmed with mental issues involving her adopted child from Mexico. More and more, I grow secure that within our Spanish lessons God is placing us to gather in order to exercise enriching fellowship. Maybe I am right and maybe I am wrong. Speaking of respecting married women, yesterday I spent the day with the one I am leery of, or rather with her Jewish husband. It was the dago’s birthday. She refers to herself as the ‘dago’ at times, enlightening me to the fact dagos and Jews marry all the time. It is a common love of knick-knacks that brings them together. Dago and Jews love to fill their homes with lots of knick-knacks that is why so many of them marry. However, although she is a dago, she does not like knick-knacks, yet her Jewish husband does. Those are some of the things she tells me. It was her birthday yesterday. Her and her friend Ruth spent the day at the casino in celebration. My watching her husband allowed for her respite. Leaving her home, her friend Ruth exclaimed what a wonderful conversationalist I am. She exclaimed, ‘Oh him and I cannot stop talking once we start. That man has so many girlfriends. I cannot keep track of them’. I could only think, ‘No I don’t’, chuckling to myself, adoring my time as usual with her and her husband. The time with the husband was blessed, we talked quite a bit. He kept pulling his glasses off, cluing me to the fact they needed cleaning. Once, I put them back on his face, he managed a ‘thank you’. I have conceded that everything is good with the couple. Nothing improper is happening. I do extremely enjoy my time with her, yet I perceive it is the fact she is such an adorable character. I have always been drawn to characters. People who are unique and odd attract me. I will accept the fact she will call me even though the Hospice has asked her not to. They have standards, regulations, and boundaries. She does not make trouble, and they are trying to protect me. Her resolution was that we just have to make sure they do not know she is calling me. My next visit s already scheduled. I will allow God to introduce friends into my life. She is truly a remarkable woman. Something that goes unstated is the fact this smaller woman takes care of her larger, standing about six foot three, husband alone and efficiently. She does everything herself with an absolute love for her husband. She has been doing this for almost a decade. Through all this, I do not see the slightest sign of feeling sorry for herself, never exclaiming the virtue of what she is doing. Her disposition is zestful, joyous, and upbeat. Her good looks, her maintaining of a fashionable persona, are intrinsic. She is not trying to be anything special. There is a quality about her quirkiness she is not aware of. She is strong in ways she does not recognize. I see it and I am honored to assist her, to bring male companionship to her husband. Her charm will not be reciprocated with undo emotion, nor improper admiration. I often highly respect a person who is moral, doing the right thing, not through faith. Lacking an overwhelming devotion to God, she does what is right and difficult without blinking an eye, simply insisting it would be wrong to do anything else. Refusing an easy path, such as placing her husband in a nursing home, or God forbid divorce, she performs the demanding with not the least bit of complaint, nor declaration, verbalized or silent, that she is performing the heroic. There is something of grace working within such earnest adherence–humble, natural, and simple–to ethics and morality.
I want to go to recent readings from Mass, reflections upon work intermixing with Divine Words.
Hear me, O islands, listen, O distant peoples. The LORD called me from birth, from my mother’s womb he gave me my name. He made of me a sharp-edged sword and concealed me in the shadow of his arm. He made me a polished arrow, in his quiver he hid me. You are my servant, he said to me…
Isaiah
Lord, in your great love, answer me.
For your sake I bear insult, and shame covers my face. I have become an outcast to my brothers, a stranger to my mother’s sons, because zeal for your house consumes me, and the insults of those who blaspheme you fall upon me.
Lord, in your great love, answer me.
Insult has broken my heart, and I am weak, I looked for sympathy, but there was none; for consolers, not one could I find. Rather they put gall in my food, and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.
Lord, in your great love, answer me.
I will praise the name of God in song, and I will glorify him with thanksgiving: “See, you lowly ones, and be glad; you who seek God, may your hearts revive! For the LORD hears the poor, and his own who are in bonds he spurns not.”
Lord, in your great love, answer me.
Away from work, I was thinking about work. My work environment is chaotic; ruthless in politics, survival, and vanity. I am spiritually exhausted from the chicanery, feeling as if I cannot plan a long-term commitment to such nonsense, always simmering the thought of a religious life on the back-burner. Basically, I simply do not enjoy working in a factory. I despise it. Within our department, there is a brutality, a constant maneuvering and harshness in order to maintain position with the pecking order. I simply refuse to participate, thus I am open to being perceived as weak. I am the ridicule of bitter and sarcastic words daily. Yet I am no different than others for all are treated in this manner. Others fight back, or are constantly finagling clichés and alliances in order to combat attacks. Attacks are prevented by attacks, the best defense being an offense. I refuse to play. I do not respond. It all wears me out, yet if my faith is relevant the above words of scripture are more than theoretical. They are a living reality. I do not fear, accepting the ways of the world. If permanency were to develop it would be through these ways. Already, I see some observing, comprehending I am authentic.
Enough, time for adoration and a jog. Another note on my introductory claim nothing was going as planned on the first day of vacation. The weekly rental car rate was out of the world expensive. There is a great demand for the Easter weekend, the weekly cost asked by Enterprise being a hundred more than I paid for the week going to Massachusetts. Yet somehow it works out that a decent weekend rate was acquired. Allowing God to alter, I am not going to attend the Tenebrae service in Toledo at the Rosary Cathedral. I will wait for all travel to Toledo and Ann Arbor to occur on Friday through Sunday. I called the Cleveland diocese, striking upon a wonderful conversation with a ‘Catholic living specialist’ who is making it her mission to find me a special Tenebrae service here in Cleveland. I assume I could find one at St Stephen, yet I will be patient and see what she tosses upon my plate. A further sign, the vacation is being launched under the command of Divine Will is a telephone call from the Hospice, presenting a four hour bedside vigil tomorrow after spiritual direction. God is good and all giving.
For contemplative downtime, a video from favorite musicians, the amazing Penguin Cafe Orchestra.
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