Saint Francis help me find my way

I joined a new parish yesterday. I don't know if I am relieved or sad. I don't know. All that I know is, personally, I am going through a storm and I look to my daily mass for strength, encouragement and direction. No matter how hard I tried to stay at my parish of almost 25 years. I couldn't. Some discouraging thing would happen to me at every mass. I wanted to keep my eyes closed the whole time. How can my faith and prayer bring me away from a Catholic church. It has. I found a beautiful church with a great Shepard who cares and gives direction about practice of virtues and removal of vices and living a holy life in every homily. At this church there is a real crucifix, statues of saints, an altar rail,a centrally located tabernacle,relics, novenas, bible study taught by the priest, first Saturday devotion of the Blessed Mother and quiet reverence after receiving the most Holy Eucharist. Every one of these things were missing from my old parish. Where did they go? Saint Francis help me find my way. My heart breaks leaving the Franciscan parish, but I had to focus on Christ, and what he deserves, how He is treated. I'm trusting you Francis, and I'm trusting in Jesus. I just what to continue my true search for Him.

October 13,1984-October 13, 2010

Happy 26th Anniversary Darling! God is good!

The Tenth Station

"Jesus stripped of His Garments" Every morning I drive 25 minutes to morning mass. This morning I was compelled to take a different route. Since I am taking all back roads, there are several combinations of roads I can take. While passing a tobacco shed on my right, I caught a glimpse of an old pick-up truck which appeared to be hiding behind the shed. I know that may seem like a strange description, but that was the picture my minds' eye saw. When I was a young girl, my mother often hid her car in or behind an old tobacco shed. I can remember her having to lift the board, open the two big doors and drive her car in. I can almost remember how it smelled and the soft interior sand floor under my feet. I can remember her taking my hand and guiding me out in only the light of the moon. I remember that there were many different places, many different sheds. I remember how we would almost run, not to be seen by anyone especially my Father. I don't tell people about those days. It all seemed so clear to me this morning. How did a child comprehend love? This man that held my hand and wiped my nose would become so enraged that he would say to my mother," I'll kill you." Word's similar to that were quite common. I can remember her fear, by the way she held my hand tight so I would walk really fast, and by her breath. As I grew I wonder if I ever knew love,? trust? I went searching in every wrong place for a love that I really had no real understanding of. In my innocence and ignorance I sinned. Now as I passed this shed I remembered my meditation on the tenth station. My soul has been robbed of its robe of innocence, clothe me dear Jesus with the garb of penance and contrition. Sometimes He allows us to go back, way back. To heal very old wounds. I look at the sacrifice He made and I unite mine with His. Maybe someday, all my wounds will be healed. For now, I will walk with Him through those stations every morning preparing myself once again, for His Sacrifice. In this I am healed.

A pleasant surprise

I want to share this simple story with you. As I have admitted over and over, I spend many hours of my day conversing with God and His angels. I was on Martha's Vineyard doing yard work and I decided that I would spend the late morning clamming. I went to the Sailing camp which is now closed. I could see one other man clamming quite a distance from me. I clammed for around an hour or so when I decided to head home. I had got about 1/3 of a bushel and didn't come as prepared as I should have. I had made my way quite a distance and had to bring all of these clams back to where my car was parked. It was a walk up a very steep rocky road that my car couldn't manage. As I slowly made it back to where I sarted I prayed to God saying it would be very nice if someone would come along with a truck so I didn't have to carry this heavy basket up the hill. I really didn't know how I would get it, my clamming rake and my camera up that steep rocky hill. I kept praying my rosary and walking in knee deep water, fighting to balance everything,when I see a man pull up in a truck right where I came out of the dirt road. As I stepped out of the water, he asked me." would you like me to put your clams in the back of my truck and bring them to the top of the hill?" Yes, thank you I said with a smile as I quietly thanked God for answering my prayer. Why when we pray and ask God and His angels for whatever, are we surprized when He answers? I think because maybe most people don't live this way, putting everything in His hands.
Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and it shall be opened unto you. That is what I choose to believe and how I choose to live.

The Perfect Cross

When listening to this morning's gospel, something came to me. A vision of the cross as a perfect symbol for our faith.




This was the reading,Matthew 22:34-40,"one of them, a scholar of the law, tested him(Jesus)by asking,"Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?" He said to him,"You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: you shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments."

I have been struggling lately trying to understand the way God, and Jesus and Mary for that matter speak to my heart. A way that seems so different than most people I know. My confessor once told me something to the effect,"There are two types of faith, vertical and horizontal. Your faith seems to be vertical when most people's is horizontal." I hadn't heard this before but feel maybe Jesus is teaching me with this reading, that he intended our faith to be a combination of the two. I hate to admit that I spend hours and hours a day conversing with God, Jesus, Mary our Mother, the saints and angels. I can compare it only to the feeling I had when courting my now husband. I can think of nothing else. When I am awake, when I am asleep, when I am working, and when I am resting. Every moment is filled with thoughts of Him and them and how I might become closer. This, to me is the vertical faith my priest spoke about. This, to me is the "Love the Lord with all your heart, mind and soul. This love allows my heart to long to share this feeling with everyone. It is contagious! That, to me is the horizontal part of our faith. Go out and spread the good news! "Love your neighbor as yourself." So this came to me in a split second during the gospel. If we put both aspects of faith together we get the cross, something I wish never to give up.



After mass while sitting in the Adoration chapel, at the end of my prayers, I opened my Imitation of Christ to a picture of Jesus with these words under it. "I am the truth" It felt like a perfect end to my morning mass and meditation/adoration. My prayer;
Jesus, I thank you for all of the beautiful gifts you have given me this day. I love you!, with my whole heart,my whole soul,my whole mind, and with all my strength. I thank you for bringing me to that place you spoke so wonderfully to me about, in the past. I now understand that that place is you here, living in my own heart. So close that you are with me here at every moment. I beg you, never allow this to end. Never allow our hearts to be apart from one another, for by that, I would die a thousand deaths. I give you my heart from now into eternity. Amen

a fruitless harvest

I haven't been able to blog in a very long time it seems. But, figure that for today I will go a differnt route, just discuss some things that are on my mind. Today's readings in Hosea seem to magnify what has been on my heart lately.
" the stalk of grain that forms no ear can yield no flower.".........When Ephraim made many altars to expiate sin, his altars became occasions of sin.
The reason why I find it so difficult to write anything is that I feel like I am being torn in two. I find myself bouncing between 2 totally different Catholic Churches. I can find NO peace doing this. In my heart and in my prayers I hear the importants of reverance, in reparation. As much as I love my home Parish, I feel in faith that I have been shown that so many things are lacking or maybe exchanged for something new and modern. I see and feel the faith that is shared by us regular morning mass goers, but also feel so much is being lost. I desire so completely for our church to be restored. I want so badly for the tabernacle to return to the center of our church. In our parish the tabernacle is over to the side. A good percentage of seats in our church have an obstructed view. People come in genuflect to the St Domiano Icon and walk right past the tabernacle. Do they understand that HE is there? I don't feel it. Maybe that is why people are leaving the church, or comming to church but ignoring his commandments . I want to run! I am so tired of feeling that our Catholic faith has been replaced right in front of our eyes. I want to walk into my church and know that was is taught is good and true and pure teachings from Jesus himself. Does anyone else feel a little scared when they hear the readings? How can He be happy with a mass that focuses on the parish priest who sits high in a preciding chair in the exact spot that the tabernacle should be. I guess I may be babbling now, but this is partly why I don't write any more. I am at a loss for words. Pray for me will you please!