The conviction grows stronger to hold tighter to St Paul Shrine. Today during mass, it was announced Sister Maria passed away. Listening to Father Roger celebrate mass, I understood it was necessary to ask him to be my spiritual director. The more God ask of me, the more willing I must be to place myself in obedience to the Church, not only the church yet also the Hospice of the Western Reserve. With no emotion nor desperation, I also long for the voice of Ann. I decrease in order for Christ to increase.

Knowing without ulterior methods,
Work accomplished, advanced,
Interior effort, insufficiency,
A path crystallizes,
A broken assemblage wove from individual experience,
Brought on into One,
Emerging with, in and through the pain and fear,
Touched,
Defeated, dead, and humble,
Honest, open, and hungry,
Natural consequences transcending eternal,
Emptiness, mercy, love conquering,
Totality crossing the bridge of sighs,
Reaching out a hand, extending,
Not teaching,
Not instructing,
Not demanding,
Not commanding,
Not imposing,
Shedding tears sharing,
Simply being human, cuddling,
Aware above,
Maternal intercession,
Divine compassion,
A hunter of the lost and feeble,
Allowing none of the seeking to escape,
All being seekers.

Wind blown prairie grass.

Driving home from Temperance, Michigan, the family gathering for the one year anniversary of the death of my father, I listened to St Theresa of Lisieux’s autobiography, ‘The Story of a Soul’.  These words sounded audibly distinct.

MY DARLING SISTER,—I know quite well all you are suffering. I know your anguish, and I share it. Oh! If I could but impart to you the peace which Jesus has put into my soul amid my most bitter tears. Be comforted—all passes away. Our life of yesterday is spent; death too will come and go, and then we shall rejoice in life, true life, for countless ages, for evermore. Meanwhile let us make of our heart a garden of delights where Our sweet Saviour may come and take His rest. Let us plant only lililies there, and sing with St John of the Cross: “There I remained in deep oblivion, My head reposing upon Him I love, Lost to myself and all! I cast my cares away And let them, heedless, mid the lilies lie.”

I wanted to post a couple of photos from the family gathering.  It was a blessed time, many attending, a love for my father shared.  The photo, (focus again missed–I really need to see an optometrist, although maybe a shaky hand caused the blurriness as my shutter speed was slow–the moved illuminated LEDs lead me in this direction).  The photo I wanted to post to display the pride Nicole possesses being pregnant.  She radiates joy, to be around her is a blessing.  Her and my nephew are practicing Catholicism soundly and simply as a young married couple.  Last year Nicole, desiring above all things to be a mother, was told she would never have children.  While staying with Ann, I mailed both husband and wife Rosaries, instructing them to take their passion to be parents to Our Holy Mother. I stressed the importance of imploring Mary to pray for them.  Nicole is now ecstatic to be an expectant mother.  Saying all that I would like to point out a splendid attribute the spiritual counselor displayed when telling the story I posted yesterday regarding the dying mother and her artist son Kevin.  The counselor said make of it what you will.  I make no claims to decipher the will and ways of God.  He stressed that working with the dying strengthened his faith and trust in God, comprehending on deeper levels the peace and mercy of God.  The counselor felt no need to define grace, to explain God, nor grace bestowed.  There was no fascination with the supernatural and sensational.  Nicole is pregnant, and I sent her and Matt some Rosaries.  All glory goes to God.

I spoke with Shirley after mass at St Paul Shrine today.  She is a brilliant woman, another from the Philippians, sound in the spiritual life; maturely humble and quietly experienced, well-grounded in prayer, centered within peace while expanding faith, hope, and charity.  I discussed my perceived vocation to be of service to the Hospice of Western Reserve, working with the dying looming as a calling.  She spoke of a similar call, exercising her efforts while employed as a critical care and vital organ transplant nurse.  Underneath everything, undramatically, maturely, a yearning for Ann hovered.  Her medical background appearing beneficial.  I have reached a new mindset, disposition, a position provided by the Holy Spirit, I will calmly distance myself; patient, humble, waiting for word from her.  There is peace, yet still hope, a lingering and longing that we belong together.  Her assistance, her spiritual maturity and medical acumen would be of such benefit to me.  There are so many thoughts, so much authenticity and sincerity, an overwhelming desire to give, to share and exchange.–strength coming together with strength, the consequence a might holy force.  There is nothing I can do.  God is lifting me.  I move forward, knowing the love overpowering my heart is now being given a worldly outlet, transforming on into the spiritual through service to my brothers and sisters. Understanding the expanded man I would be with Ann at my side, there is even a clearer understanding there is truly nothing I can do to effect matters.  Thy Will be done.

Nicole

My brother John and his daughter Vanessa.

I returned to Toledo for a day and evening visit. It was a bit depressing, revealing the stark reality there is really nothing in Toledo for me. My family is there, lovingly I visit, yet the roots planted in Cleveland are deeper in regards to permanency. North Dakota beckons, discernment advances. I spent last night with friends from the Collingwood Art Center, sharing a bonfire at the community garden located across the street. The Rosary Cathedral is just north of the location. To the west is the rehab I spent three months convalescing at, a quarter mile away the half-way house. All locations important in my formation, yet now distant. With the friends from the art center, we talked, observing an eclipse. Melancholy dominated my lost soul friends. I took photos, however once observing I decided to delete, a sense of gloom dominating. There was nothing to hang faith and hope upon, while providing a vast void in which to channel love.

I did not visit with my son. He was busy in Ann Arbor. I spoke with him and his mother, learning something that immensely lifted my heart. For the first time in his thirty years of life, he is dating a particular young lady. He assures me I will like her. He has been seeing her for over four months. He rarely dated, previous to this young lady never a specific one for extended time. A Sunday school teacher who lives on a farm, he expresses the fact he really likes her, that I will like her. His mother and I both worried about his romantic life. Successful in education and profession, he expressed the fact he experienced an emptiness regarding romantic feelings. He just did not feel drawn toward being with someone. I felt guilty as a father. I have been alone, never dating throughout his life. He never witnessed me in a loving relationship while struggling with life. Guilt and shame amassed regarding improper formation toward healthy male/female relationships. I worried that I never taught my son how to love a woman. Now to hear that he is dating, happy, pleased, mature, and secure in his approach with this Christian young lady lifts my heart as few things can. God is good and giving. I feel humbled and blessed.