http://www.newwaysministry.org/gfp.html
Going around twitter this morning
Wednesday, 8 January 2014
Just A Dumb Ex-Yummy Mummy!
There are several members of my family who do not like me. One reason is that they are all atheists or Dems, and I am a real Catholic. But, the second reason I just discovered yesterday. How stupid I have been!
The only women who are worthwhile, in their books, are those who work and have kids, and still work.
As if stay-at-home moms do not "work".....multitasking geniuses-that is what we really are!
They do not believe in "stay-at-home" moms.
Well, the prejudice is seen as part of the conservative Catholic mode of lifestyle, which they hate. And, of course, they are against home schooling. Apparently, I live by "ideologies".
In other words, I do not fit the mold of the Thoroughly Modern Millie. A stay-at-home mom for eight years, and then one who only worked part-time, mostly in order to home school, has no value.
The women these people admire are career women, who either have one or two kids or none. One told me that I had no right to have my son, as kids are a luxury. Imagine, no Supertradson!
Supertradson is in the seminary. But, that is not an acceptable to those who have no life in the spirit. He, apparently, should be an engineer, or a brain surgeon, or a Dem CEO.
I applaud all stay-at-home moms! God bless you and keep you from all radical criticisms of those who honestly do not value you. I do. God does.
Here is a "thumbs-up" for all Yummy Mummys!
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| I had curtains like these-in a bedroom-.....and brass on the wall.... |
They thought that I should not have been a stay-at-home mom! Well, given that my son has been away from mummy for a three and a half-years, it sure took these opposing views a long time to surface; one of the reasons for their antipathies.
The only women who are worthwhile, in their books, are those who work and have kids, and still work.
As if stay-at-home moms do not "work".....multitasking geniuses-that is what we really are!
They do not believe in "stay-at-home" moms.
Well, the prejudice is seen as part of the conservative Catholic mode of lifestyle, which they hate. And, of course, they are against home schooling. Apparently, I live by "ideologies".
In other words, I do not fit the mold of the Thoroughly Modern Millie. A stay-at-home mom for eight years, and then one who only worked part-time, mostly in order to home school, has no value.
The women these people admire are career women, who either have one or two kids or none. One told me that I had no right to have my son, as kids are a luxury. Imagine, no Supertradson!
Supertradson is in the seminary. But, that is not an acceptable to those who have no life in the spirit. He, apparently, should be an engineer, or a brain surgeon, or a Dem CEO.
I applaud all stay-at-home moms! God bless you and keep you from all radical criticisms of those who honestly do not value you. I do. God does.
Here is a "thumbs-up" for all Yummy Mummys!
And now, for something completely different
http://www.breitbart.com/InstaBlog/2014/01/08/Alleged-Bank-Robbery-Foiled-When-Teller-Can-t-Read-Holdup-Note?utm_source=twitterfeed&utm_medium=twitter
He should have typed it out on his computer....
He should have typed it out on his computer....
WHAT? Numbers Games, IMO
http://www.cardinalnewmansociety.org/CatholicEducationDaily/DetailsPage/tabid/102/ArticleID/2844/British-Kids-Baptized-to-Gain-Entrance-to-Crowded-Catholic-Schools.aspx
And, what happened to the promise to raise the child in the domestic church at home? Or the checking to see if the parents are practicing Catholics? Or the weeks of catechetical prep for youth? Or the knowledge that the parents will be active in the local parish?
This is all wrong...numbers games.
And, what happened to the promise to raise the child in the domestic church at home? Or the checking to see if the parents are practicing Catholics? Or the weeks of catechetical prep for youth? Or the knowledge that the parents will be active in the local parish?
This is all wrong...numbers games.
An Important Read for European Readers
http://www.tradingfloor.com/posts/broader-relevance-ayn-rand-society-710110757
Broke Big Brother will destroy freedoms, my dear readers in Europe. Wake up and smell the coffee, as we use to say, please.
"Arrogance in the extreme frequently manifests itself against deviating views of Europe such as those displayed by even a meek David Cameron. This organisation is failing big time, and its only response is to gather ever more power in the hands of Bruxelles, clearly against the will of the populations of Europe that are beginning to see that in fact, the euro may be the practical equivalent of Project X in Atlas Shrugged.
In France, we now have a President that by his own admission, hates the rich. So much so that he is trying to circumvent his own constitution to introduce punitive taxes on them, although illegal. And it is so much so that he drives relentlessly forward with proposals for a financial transaction tax that has been shot down by pretty much every historical experience and most economists as a massive own goal, damaging the very countries that deploy it."
Important article by an expert, who sums up many of the ideas on this blog for the past three years, in an excellent and succinct way-the arrogance and hatred of leaders who will create an emotional situation to gain power and the soon coming totalitarianism in the EUBroke Big Brother will destroy freedoms, my dear readers in Europe. Wake up and smell the coffee, as we use to say, please.
Caption Game Today?
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| http://media1.sulia.com/static/user_images/4/2014-01-07/6d23190c-dfb5-4fa7-996c-5eb5f3eb3213.jpg |
The Next Step
I am beginning
to work on a real novel which will not be on the blog. It is just percolating in my brain. Pray for me, as it would be nice to be able to sell something.
Pax vobiscum...
to work on a real novel which will not be on the blog. It is just percolating in my brain. Pray for me, as it would be nice to be able to sell something.
Pax vobiscum...
The Hour Glass Part Twenty-Four
The young priest stood on the porch looking up at the brown and black mountains to the south. He had completed his visits the day before and was resting, at least part of the day, on this Feast. He stretched, and turned to look the great eastern sky, beyond the sands and scrub-land, when Mother General approached him. Five days had passed since her miraculous healing, which, if nothing else, converted the dubious agnostic doctor, who now decided to come to daily Mass whenever he could. Mother General had another surprise for the young priest. She had had a "vision".
She stood next to the young priest, who was young enough to be her great-grandson. She had explained to him that the night of her healing, she had seen this, as if an old 3-D movie was projected onto to her bedroom wall.
"The skies were bright blue, as in the times before the nuclear blast. Birds flew over the mountains-many different types of birds, eagles, hawks, sparrows, song birds, all singing a strange morning chorus, which I have never heard in the West, but only in the Midwest and East years and years ago."
Her old blue eyes sparkled, as if she was describing the meeting of a long-lost love. "Then, I saw my little community and the monks from the old monastery up north, all in white and walking slowly towards the mountains, which suddenly shone gold and orange, almost as if they were on fire."
She stopped and folded her hands like she was praying. "Then, I saw a chariot, gigantic, silver, white, pulled by white horses, more beautiful than any horses on my father's ranch when I was growing up. The charioteer's robes shone so bright that at first, I did not know Who He was. Then, I saw His Face. It was my Bridegroom, dressed for battle. His strong and firm Face looked forward, past the birds, past the nuns and monks, to me. Then, He took His sword and made a movement as if cutting something. I felt a great heat go through my body, and I felt as if I was lifted off the bed. Then, I noticed The Lord was wearing a crown of gold and jewels. I heard thunder and saw lightning, but it was not lightning, but angels, in bright, different colors of light, with swords in their hands. Each of these lightning angels went in different directions, some north, some south, some east, some west. Then, I saw The Lord put His sword back in its scabbard. He reached out and took my hand and pulled me up. That is when I stood up, not knowing whether I was in a dream or not, whether I was alive or dead."
"Then, I heard His Voice, deep, calm, but strong. 'The next time I come, it will be in battle. You are chosen to see this.'"
Mother General stopped again. "I am so old. Do you think He meant the Second Coming, Father?"
Antonio waited to share his answer. They both looked at the sun rising above the land. "No, I do not think so. I think Christ means we are chosen to shed our blood for Him. The battle will be between some good and some evil. But, when that time is I do not know. Be at peace. We shall be ready."
He paused. "All we have is the time now, like the Hour Glass without the sand-the present moment."
Mother General answered softly, "Yes, I am ready. Now, I must "ready" my dear nuns." The bell for Lauds rang at dawn, and the two walked slowly into the chapel. It was the Feast of the Annunciation and the nuns began the chant.
Missus est Gabriel Angelus ad Mariam Virginem desponsatam Ioseph.
Antonio followed the Diurnal with the nuns. He loved the sweet voices and the new peace he shared.
The hymn for the day washed over Antonio like a soft shower of gold. He knew that the darkness of the past had faded into a light, a great light which would now, until his death, accompany him on his way.
ut videntes Jesum
semper collætemur.
Sit laus Deo Patri,
Summo Christus decus,
Spiritui Sancto,
Tribus honor unus. Amen.
The End
copyright 2014
She stood next to the young priest, who was young enough to be her great-grandson. She had explained to him that the night of her healing, she had seen this, as if an old 3-D movie was projected onto to her bedroom wall.
"The skies were bright blue, as in the times before the nuclear blast. Birds flew over the mountains-many different types of birds, eagles, hawks, sparrows, song birds, all singing a strange morning chorus, which I have never heard in the West, but only in the Midwest and East years and years ago."
Her old blue eyes sparkled, as if she was describing the meeting of a long-lost love. "Then, I saw my little community and the monks from the old monastery up north, all in white and walking slowly towards the mountains, which suddenly shone gold and orange, almost as if they were on fire."
She stopped and folded her hands like she was praying. "Then, I saw a chariot, gigantic, silver, white, pulled by white horses, more beautiful than any horses on my father's ranch when I was growing up. The charioteer's robes shone so bright that at first, I did not know Who He was. Then, I saw His Face. It was my Bridegroom, dressed for battle. His strong and firm Face looked forward, past the birds, past the nuns and monks, to me. Then, He took His sword and made a movement as if cutting something. I felt a great heat go through my body, and I felt as if I was lifted off the bed. Then, I noticed The Lord was wearing a crown of gold and jewels. I heard thunder and saw lightning, but it was not lightning, but angels, in bright, different colors of light, with swords in their hands. Each of these lightning angels went in different directions, some north, some south, some east, some west. Then, I saw The Lord put His sword back in its scabbard. He reached out and took my hand and pulled me up. That is when I stood up, not knowing whether I was in a dream or not, whether I was alive or dead."
"Then, I heard His Voice, deep, calm, but strong. 'The next time I come, it will be in battle. You are chosen to see this.'"
Mother General stopped again. "I am so old. Do you think He meant the Second Coming, Father?"
Antonio waited to share his answer. They both looked at the sun rising above the land. "No, I do not think so. I think Christ means we are chosen to shed our blood for Him. The battle will be between some good and some evil. But, when that time is I do not know. Be at peace. We shall be ready."
He paused. "All we have is the time now, like the Hour Glass without the sand-the present moment."
Mother General answered softly, "Yes, I am ready. Now, I must "ready" my dear nuns." The bell for Lauds rang at dawn, and the two walked slowly into the chapel. It was the Feast of the Annunciation and the nuns began the chant.
Missus est Gabriel Angelus ad Mariam Virginem desponsatam Ioseph.
Antonio followed the Diurnal with the nuns. He loved the sweet voices and the new peace he shared.
The hymn for the day washed over Antonio like a soft shower of gold. He knew that the darkness of the past had faded into a light, a great light which would now, until his death, accompany him on his way.
Vitam præsta puram,
iter para tutum,ut videntes Jesum
semper collætemur.
Sit laus Deo Patri,
Summo Christus decus,
Spiritui Sancto,
Tribus honor unus. Amen.
The End
copyright 2014
The Hour Glass Part Twenty-Three
St. Michael's was even more beautiful in the snow. Samuel had not been here for some time and the glory of the day took his breath away. The two Serles skipped ahead like very young men, which they were, and ran up to the Abbey Church doors. This "little corner of England which is forever France, irreclaimably French" as Ronald Knox had called it, sat like a crown of jewels on a cushion of white. Samuel was not by any stretch an "aesthete", but this abbey and grounds had always moved him, bringing him into an experience which led directly to Christ and His Mother.
Mass was just beginning, the Tridentine form, and the Abbot looked up briefly and nodded at his guests.
Samuel walked briskly to the sacristy, vested and was at the side of the sanctuary in minutes. Mark and John sat in the row behind the monks, looking the world like English Gentlemen in from a brisk walk. They laid their new walking sticks on the floor.
Missals lay in the pews and the two, who were trained in the Mass, left them there. They had not seen books for years. There entire seminary training had been provided by memory from Columcille and Samuel. John wondered if the National Catholic Library still existed intact. Mark prayed for Columcille, Samuel and all seven of the resident monks.
The Abbot intoned the Epistle and then the Gospel. The Feast was the Annunciation. Samuel thought of all the Catholic congregations in the world, some free, some not free, some in gorgeous abbeys like this one, some in small cottages, some outside under trees, or under mountains, all celebrating the great day of the Incarnation. At every minute of every day, the Eucharist was being consecrated in some part of the world. He also mourned for those who could not attend Mass and who would hold this day sacred in their thoughts, prayers, longings.
When the Abbot intoned the Credo, Samuel's heart sang the words of his deepest beliefs. Et incarnátus est de SpÃritu Sancto ex MarÃa VÃrgine, et homo factus est. From all time, God had seen the Long Walk of the four clerics, the death of Columcille, the horror of the persecutions, the Church in hiding, the worldwide hatred of this day, this Woman, this God-Man, Who came to die for all.
Samuel let his heart sing and the grief stricken love for his lost friend died and rose again in a great joy. The entire Abbey glowed with the renewal of the earth. Samuel, for the first time in years, felt like he had come home. There was only this minute, only this time, only the present in which to worship God for Whom all time was one and whole. Like a clear hourglass stopped, without sand, thought Samuel. this Mass held the Timeless Sacrifice, the Body and Blood of Christ, the sign of God's presence and present among humans. To be totally present to this God was the joyous expectation of all the faithful.
To be continued.....
Mass was just beginning, the Tridentine form, and the Abbot looked up briefly and nodded at his guests.
Samuel walked briskly to the sacristy, vested and was at the side of the sanctuary in minutes. Mark and John sat in the row behind the monks, looking the world like English Gentlemen in from a brisk walk. They laid their new walking sticks on the floor.
Missals lay in the pews and the two, who were trained in the Mass, left them there. They had not seen books for years. There entire seminary training had been provided by memory from Columcille and Samuel. John wondered if the National Catholic Library still existed intact. Mark prayed for Columcille, Samuel and all seven of the resident monks.
The Abbot intoned the Epistle and then the Gospel. The Feast was the Annunciation. Samuel thought of all the Catholic congregations in the world, some free, some not free, some in gorgeous abbeys like this one, some in small cottages, some outside under trees, or under mountains, all celebrating the great day of the Incarnation. At every minute of every day, the Eucharist was being consecrated in some part of the world. He also mourned for those who could not attend Mass and who would hold this day sacred in their thoughts, prayers, longings.
When the Abbot intoned the Credo, Samuel's heart sang the words of his deepest beliefs. Et incarnátus est de SpÃritu Sancto ex MarÃa VÃrgine, et homo factus est. From all time, God had seen the Long Walk of the four clerics, the death of Columcille, the horror of the persecutions, the Church in hiding, the worldwide hatred of this day, this Woman, this God-Man, Who came to die for all.
Samuel let his heart sing and the grief stricken love for his lost friend died and rose again in a great joy. The entire Abbey glowed with the renewal of the earth. Samuel, for the first time in years, felt like he had come home. There was only this minute, only this time, only the present in which to worship God for Whom all time was one and whole. Like a clear hourglass stopped, without sand, thought Samuel. this Mass held the Timeless Sacrifice, the Body and Blood of Christ, the sign of God's presence and present among humans. To be totally present to this God was the joyous expectation of all the faithful.
To be continued.....
The Hour Glass Part Twenty-Two
Antonio woke to the sound of torrential rains. The Chinese territory which had been Arizona was only one of five states where it now rained. All the others experienced precipitation in the form of snow. This rain was like a monsoon, but cold. The nuns were in the chapel saying Nocturns which Antonio preferred to say in his mental breviary. The nuns sang their own creations for melodies and the sound of the young voices could be heard upstairs. Antonio would join them for Lauds and then Mass immediately after. Breakfast followed.
The nuns kept the old Monastic Diurnal which was not Antonio's memorized breviary. But, Antonio loved hearing the Latin chant, albeit sung with Gregorian Chant variations a la this Benedictine order.
The sound of the rain on the roof grew louder. Winds beat against the windows. Antonio wondered whether this was "natural" storm or one brought on by the long winter coming from The Wilderness. Before he had a chance to think more about the climate, Antonio heard a soft knock at the door. It was one of the novices. "Mother has fallen and she may be seriously hurt. Please, Father, come down and help."
Antonio grabbed his black bag and rushed downstairs. The Mother had fallen down the stairs to the kitchen. She was in terrible pain and could not move her legs. She could speak. Her wimple was slightly askew. her
"Father, it is my back. I think I have broken it." She winced in pain. "Are there any doctors close by?" Antonio addressed the Novice Mistress. "Yes, just beyond the end of the road, about a mile away. Should I go?"
"Yes, and be careful in this weather." The Novice Mistress left throwing a raincoat and grabbing an umbrella from the communal rack.
Antonio told the nuns not to move Mother but to cover her with blanket to keep warm. Then, he told all but one to go into the chapel and say the rosary for Mother General, who was passing in and out of consciousness.
The minutes grew to an hour and the young nun had not returned. Antonio was not sure whether he should go after her or send another nun to meet her. The rain almost hid the road. Perhaps there was flooding.
Antonio decided to go himself. "Stay here, I need to find Mother Ebba."
He threw on a raincoat from the same rack, grabbed an umbrella and was about to rush out the door when Carl's car appeared in front of the house. Mother Ebba was with him and another man.
They came in and the doctor knelt my Mother General. He quickly determined her back was broken. "Can two of you bring a mattress down? We shall move her into her room but carry her on the mattress."
This was done. The doctor had no pain killers. He could see that the nun was in terrible pain. "She must not be moved. I cannot take her to the hospital as it is in the hands of the Chinese. I shall do what I can."
Carl stayed by the door, waiting. He kept staring at Antonio, who could feel the man's eyes on his back.
The doctor came downstairs and spoke briefly to Antonio. "Father, I am not a Catholic, but if there are prayers for the dying, I suggest you say those. And, pray for a miracle."
As he was leaving, the doctor promised to come back tomorrow with some drugs. He did not have those now. And, if there were flash floods, he would not be able to come.
Antonio went up stairs with his black bag. He approached Mother's small single bed in her plain, convent-like room. "Mother, do you want the Last Rites, just in case?" Mother looked up and smiled. "Yes. I deserve this, don't I?"
"God does not punish like this, Mother." Antonio gave Mother the Last Rites and she passed out again. He left the room when two nuns came in and sat beside Mother.
The rain continued to drench the desert area. And, flooding occurred just outside the house, with water coming up to the top step of the long wooden porch.
The Novice Mistress was second in command and took over the running of the monastery. The calm practice of the discipline of the day focused the women on God and the Rule.
Antonio had planned to visit a few families of couples and some elderly people, but the rain and flooding prevented him from these ministries. He decided to take turns watching Mother so that the two nuns could follow their normal day.
The day passed into night and the two nuns took over again for Antonio. But, in the middle of the night, someone knocked at his door. It was the Novice Mistress. "Father, you must come, now."
Antonio, shocked that Mother General was not making it through the night, brought his bag and walked quickly down the hallway to Mother General's room. But, what he saw was not what he expected. As he approached the room, he saw that all the nuns were crowded at the door of Mother General's room. They let him pass. What he saw was unbelievable. Mother General was standing at the end of the bed. Her face glowed with happiness and a deep peace descended on the nuns and Antonio. Mother General held out her hand to Antonio. "Look, look. I am healed. I am whole and it was The Lord. Praise His Mercy and His Goodness."
Antonio and all the nuns knelt down. The rains subsided. The wind vanished. Then, as if by an inner command, they all began to sing the Gregorian Chant Te Deum. Mother General, who looked years younger than before the accident, knelt of the floor with them.
Sanctum quoque Paraclitum Spiritum.
Tu Rex gloriae, Christe.
Tu Patris sempiternus es Filius.
Tu ad liberandum suscepturus hominem,
non horruisti Virginis uterum.
Tu, devicto mortis aculeo,
aperuisti credentibus regna caelorum.
Tu ad dexteram Dei sedes, in gloria Patris.
Iudex crederis esse venturus.
Te ergo quaesumus, tuis famulis subveni:
quos pretioso sanguine redemisti.
Aeterna fac cum sanctis tuis in gloria numerari
To be continued....
The nuns kept the old Monastic Diurnal which was not Antonio's memorized breviary. But, Antonio loved hearing the Latin chant, albeit sung with Gregorian Chant variations a la this Benedictine order.
The sound of the rain on the roof grew louder. Winds beat against the windows. Antonio wondered whether this was "natural" storm or one brought on by the long winter coming from The Wilderness. Before he had a chance to think more about the climate, Antonio heard a soft knock at the door. It was one of the novices. "Mother has fallen and she may be seriously hurt. Please, Father, come down and help."
Antonio grabbed his black bag and rushed downstairs. The Mother had fallen down the stairs to the kitchen. She was in terrible pain and could not move her legs. She could speak. Her wimple was slightly askew. her
"Father, it is my back. I think I have broken it." She winced in pain. "Are there any doctors close by?" Antonio addressed the Novice Mistress. "Yes, just beyond the end of the road, about a mile away. Should I go?"
"Yes, and be careful in this weather." The Novice Mistress left throwing a raincoat and grabbing an umbrella from the communal rack.
Antonio told the nuns not to move Mother but to cover her with blanket to keep warm. Then, he told all but one to go into the chapel and say the rosary for Mother General, who was passing in and out of consciousness.
The minutes grew to an hour and the young nun had not returned. Antonio was not sure whether he should go after her or send another nun to meet her. The rain almost hid the road. Perhaps there was flooding.
Antonio decided to go himself. "Stay here, I need to find Mother Ebba."
He threw on a raincoat from the same rack, grabbed an umbrella and was about to rush out the door when Carl's car appeared in front of the house. Mother Ebba was with him and another man.
They came in and the doctor knelt my Mother General. He quickly determined her back was broken. "Can two of you bring a mattress down? We shall move her into her room but carry her on the mattress."
This was done. The doctor had no pain killers. He could see that the nun was in terrible pain. "She must not be moved. I cannot take her to the hospital as it is in the hands of the Chinese. I shall do what I can."
Carl stayed by the door, waiting. He kept staring at Antonio, who could feel the man's eyes on his back.
The doctor came downstairs and spoke briefly to Antonio. "Father, I am not a Catholic, but if there are prayers for the dying, I suggest you say those. And, pray for a miracle."
As he was leaving, the doctor promised to come back tomorrow with some drugs. He did not have those now. And, if there were flash floods, he would not be able to come.
Antonio went up stairs with his black bag. He approached Mother's small single bed in her plain, convent-like room. "Mother, do you want the Last Rites, just in case?" Mother looked up and smiled. "Yes. I deserve this, don't I?"
"God does not punish like this, Mother." Antonio gave Mother the Last Rites and she passed out again. He left the room when two nuns came in and sat beside Mother.
The rain continued to drench the desert area. And, flooding occurred just outside the house, with water coming up to the top step of the long wooden porch.
The Novice Mistress was second in command and took over the running of the monastery. The calm practice of the discipline of the day focused the women on God and the Rule.
Antonio had planned to visit a few families of couples and some elderly people, but the rain and flooding prevented him from these ministries. He decided to take turns watching Mother so that the two nuns could follow their normal day.
The day passed into night and the two nuns took over again for Antonio. But, in the middle of the night, someone knocked at his door. It was the Novice Mistress. "Father, you must come, now."
Antonio, shocked that Mother General was not making it through the night, brought his bag and walked quickly down the hallway to Mother General's room. But, what he saw was not what he expected. As he approached the room, he saw that all the nuns were crowded at the door of Mother General's room. They let him pass. What he saw was unbelievable. Mother General was standing at the end of the bed. Her face glowed with happiness and a deep peace descended on the nuns and Antonio. Mother General held out her hand to Antonio. "Look, look. I am healed. I am whole and it was The Lord. Praise His Mercy and His Goodness."
Antonio and all the nuns knelt down. The rains subsided. The wind vanished. Then, as if by an inner command, they all began to sing the Gregorian Chant Te Deum. Mother General, who looked years younger than before the accident, knelt of the floor with them.
Sanctum quoque Paraclitum Spiritum.
Tu Rex gloriae, Christe.
Tu Patris sempiternus es Filius.
Tu ad liberandum suscepturus hominem,
non horruisti Virginis uterum.
Tu, devicto mortis aculeo,
aperuisti credentibus regna caelorum.
Tu ad dexteram Dei sedes, in gloria Patris.
Iudex crederis esse venturus.
Te ergo quaesumus, tuis famulis subveni:
quos pretioso sanguine redemisti.
Aeterna fac cum sanctis tuis in gloria numerari
To be continued....
Tuesday, 7 January 2014
The Hour Glass Part Twenty-One
Walking the rest of the way without Columcille created in the minds and hearts of the three clerics a dread which grew as they crept around the northern suburbs and villages of Greater London. One night, just outside of Welwyn Garden City, they had to hide in two skips to avoid dogs and GATS. Then, an hour later, as they approached Columcille's old friend's house in Bagshot, they had to hide in an old barn to avoid more GATS, who, thankfully, worn obviously green and orange uniforms. The barn was more of a ruin and this scouting group had no dogs.
By the time the three turned up at Msgr. Colm Langsdon's house, these pilgrims were hardly recognizable. Thankfully, Colm knew Samuel as well. The meeting was anything but happy.
Colm took them all immediately to an outside bath house, where they scrubbed down and threw their now horribly dirty clothes into a small bonfire. Colm, organized and fastidious, had bought all new clothes for any priests or seminarians who would turn up at his place on the way to Farnborough. Within the hour, Samuel and the Serles looked like an Oxford Dons in Harris Tweeds. They were given new Grenson boots as well. Mark and John wondered they would be given Norfolk jackets as well. They were.
Msgr. Colm had independent wealth and took excellent care of his motley pilgrim visitors who came from all over four counties to be or watch others being ordained at Farnborough. The cottage also held one of the best pantries and wine cellars in all of England. Samuel, still in deep grief, could not fully appreciated the largess of the host.
When Colm was told of the death of Columcille, he was quiet for a long time. "We met in Rome, and because of our names, became friends, no, we became brothers. But, Columcille was not made for this world, and I knew he would beat me to the heavens. But, I am very sorry he died this way, on the road. But, I suppose that is fitting for all us, doncha' think?"
The four each fell into their own thoughts on the deceased. Colm then served and the conversation turned to the rest of the journey.
They were each given a Bronte Shetland throw and a cup of Fortnum's Gunpowder teas, the host's favorite. Colm also had sweet and savory treats. The world of skips and dogs faded for a few hours.
"You cannot take any of the roads. The GATS have become paranoid ,and some of their generals disagree with the continued presence of St. Michael's. We have been very lucky so far to have the abbey untouched and valued by an effete of a brother of the abbot's. Very fortunate. But, this may change at any time, like our world."
"I suggest you rest a few hours, and leave at night. The curfews are not enforced here or south of here, and you could make the abbey easily in two hours. You must avoid Camberley. Go between the two old golf courses and cut back. The GATS have some sort of storage of ammunition at Camberley of all places."
"If you sleep and eat, we can say Mass, hear each other's confessions and then you can leave."
No one disagreed with this plan. Colm knew the area and had much experience with the road walkers.
"Now, I am excusing myself, as I need to be alone. I want to think about Columcille and then old days."
The three stood up and watched the priest, who, although younger than Samuel by many years, seemed old and bent. Then, they went to their rooms for a rest.
Later, after a long sleep, confessions, Mass and a huge dinner, Samuel, Mark and John left. They also were given Irish walking sticks to complete the "look" and Melton wool caps. Mark and John could hardly keep from laughing out loud. Where Colm managed to get all these things new seemed a miracle.
Finally, Colm gave each one a new Anstruther mac. John did crack up at this point and had to be poked several times by Mark to stop snorting. Well, Samuel thought, as he knew well the abbot of Farnborough, we shall be appreciated there...
to be continued....
By the time the three turned up at Msgr. Colm Langsdon's house, these pilgrims were hardly recognizable. Thankfully, Colm knew Samuel as well. The meeting was anything but happy.
Colm took them all immediately to an outside bath house, where they scrubbed down and threw their now horribly dirty clothes into a small bonfire. Colm, organized and fastidious, had bought all new clothes for any priests or seminarians who would turn up at his place on the way to Farnborough. Within the hour, Samuel and the Serles looked like an Oxford Dons in Harris Tweeds. They were given new Grenson boots as well. Mark and John wondered they would be given Norfolk jackets as well. They were.
Msgr. Colm had independent wealth and took excellent care of his motley pilgrim visitors who came from all over four counties to be or watch others being ordained at Farnborough. The cottage also held one of the best pantries and wine cellars in all of England. Samuel, still in deep grief, could not fully appreciated the largess of the host.
When Colm was told of the death of Columcille, he was quiet for a long time. "We met in Rome, and because of our names, became friends, no, we became brothers. But, Columcille was not made for this world, and I knew he would beat me to the heavens. But, I am very sorry he died this way, on the road. But, I suppose that is fitting for all us, doncha' think?"
The four each fell into their own thoughts on the deceased. Colm then served and the conversation turned to the rest of the journey.
They were each given a Bronte Shetland throw and a cup of Fortnum's Gunpowder teas, the host's favorite. Colm also had sweet and savory treats. The world of skips and dogs faded for a few hours.
"You cannot take any of the roads. The GATS have become paranoid ,and some of their generals disagree with the continued presence of St. Michael's. We have been very lucky so far to have the abbey untouched and valued by an effete of a brother of the abbot's. Very fortunate. But, this may change at any time, like our world."
"I suggest you rest a few hours, and leave at night. The curfews are not enforced here or south of here, and you could make the abbey easily in two hours. You must avoid Camberley. Go between the two old golf courses and cut back. The GATS have some sort of storage of ammunition at Camberley of all places."
"If you sleep and eat, we can say Mass, hear each other's confessions and then you can leave."
No one disagreed with this plan. Colm knew the area and had much experience with the road walkers.
"Now, I am excusing myself, as I need to be alone. I want to think about Columcille and then old days."
The three stood up and watched the priest, who, although younger than Samuel by many years, seemed old and bent. Then, they went to their rooms for a rest.
Later, after a long sleep, confessions, Mass and a huge dinner, Samuel, Mark and John left. They also were given Irish walking sticks to complete the "look" and Melton wool caps. Mark and John could hardly keep from laughing out loud. Where Colm managed to get all these things new seemed a miracle.
Finally, Colm gave each one a new Anstruther mac. John did crack up at this point and had to be poked several times by Mark to stop snorting. Well, Samuel thought, as he knew well the abbot of Farnborough, we shall be appreciated there...
to be continued....
The Hour Glass Part Twenty
Antonio stood by the large glass windows facing the mountains near Queen's Creek. He was not in a good mood. In fact, he was very close to going back to Texas and then to Louisiana, somehow. His thoughts were not necessarily rational, but he saw a type of slavery here, a type of confusion not seen in the barn Masses in Louisiana. There, the Catholics caught between the GATS and the Chinese knew their lives were like smoke-here and gone. They lived in the present moment, like the Nuncio had stressed when referring to his odd, sand-less hourglass. Here, even the nuns seemed wrapped up in a false security, seemingly insured by Carl and his rogue businessmen, his Chinese deserters, who used him to make it in Mexico. This set-up reminded Antonio of discussions on the old Church in Sicily before the troubles purged all connections with the Mafia. Gone were the old ties there, dying in the blood of martyrs and the amazing conversion of many who stood at the edge of ruin and the grave. Reality therapy had saved souls.
Here, in this beautiful "safe house" guarded by those loyal to Carl, Antonio felt "bought", pandered to because he was a priest. The cutting edge of living life as a sign of contradiction simply was absent from those in his immediate group. Oh, yes, the nuns prayed seven times a day and he said Masses for the living and the dead, but they were totally dependent on Carl for all their physical needs. Antonio felt that he was "keeping" them, like an insurance policy for the afterlife. Something was not right.
The young priest served the nuns and a small community of Catholics who managed to walk out in the dark to this remote plot of land beneath the mountains. About 30 Catholics, all adults, no children, came to the bi-weekly Mass Antonio had established. He heard confessions. He baptized and confirmed an adult convert who had waited a long time for a missionary priest. One day, he asked the nuns why there were no children.
"Do not talk about this. The Chinese stole all the children. Like the story of the Pied Piper, all those under 18 disappeared under the mountain. This happened when the invasion first took place and the army was strong, before they were abandoned by their own government." Antonio could hardly believe this story. "And," the nun continued, "many of our congregation are parents who have lost their children. Do not, at least now, bring this up. There are no children within a 100 mile radius of the San Tan Mountain region."
Antonio promised to be silent on this subject. It seemed bizarre to him, in keeping with the entire organization. He grew increasingly uncomfortable. The priest had to pray about this situation. His gut reactions told him that what was unseen was more malicious than what was visible.
He did not blame the nuns for any confusion or deceit. They were relying on a supposedly good Catholic man for protection and the necessities of life itself. Antonio's doubts did not include judgment.
However, his own instincts came to the surface into his mind when Mother General came to him one night, alone and asking for spiritual counseling. She wanted his advice.
"We are in a dangerous position here and we know it. But, I am concerned about the souls of my young nuns, and as you have seen, they are all young. They seem, well, out of touch with the Cross. We grateful were taken from death by those who now have died, so that we could come here and pray and serve God. But, Antonio, should we have stayed and been martyred? I sometimes think I made the wrong decision coming here to what I thought was a place to serve the Church through prayer. But, we are not suffering, except in anxiety, not knowing what will happen day by day. Did I make the wrong decision for my little congregation? Did I run away from the Cross God offered all of us?"
Now, Antonio knew how to respond to this series of questions. His gut feelings had proved good and true.
"Mother, I think you were wrong. But, God will give you another opportunity to show Him that you love Him more than life. Make a good confession, repent, and move on. God is good and offers us the crown again and again. I know this is so."
Mother's eyes filled with tears. She accepted the rebuke she sensed was coming. She confessed not obeying the Will of God and for leading her nuns away from God's Will.
Antonio knew that he could stay now. He knew he had a spiritual sister in Mother whose eyes had been opened by grace. He knew they would both be offered the crown of glory through suffering. He rested in the peace of the Cross.
To be continued....
Here, in this beautiful "safe house" guarded by those loyal to Carl, Antonio felt "bought", pandered to because he was a priest. The cutting edge of living life as a sign of contradiction simply was absent from those in his immediate group. Oh, yes, the nuns prayed seven times a day and he said Masses for the living and the dead, but they were totally dependent on Carl for all their physical needs. Antonio felt that he was "keeping" them, like an insurance policy for the afterlife. Something was not right.
The young priest served the nuns and a small community of Catholics who managed to walk out in the dark to this remote plot of land beneath the mountains. About 30 Catholics, all adults, no children, came to the bi-weekly Mass Antonio had established. He heard confessions. He baptized and confirmed an adult convert who had waited a long time for a missionary priest. One day, he asked the nuns why there were no children.
"Do not talk about this. The Chinese stole all the children. Like the story of the Pied Piper, all those under 18 disappeared under the mountain. This happened when the invasion first took place and the army was strong, before they were abandoned by their own government." Antonio could hardly believe this story. "And," the nun continued, "many of our congregation are parents who have lost their children. Do not, at least now, bring this up. There are no children within a 100 mile radius of the San Tan Mountain region."
Antonio promised to be silent on this subject. It seemed bizarre to him, in keeping with the entire organization. He grew increasingly uncomfortable. The priest had to pray about this situation. His gut reactions told him that what was unseen was more malicious than what was visible.
He did not blame the nuns for any confusion or deceit. They were relying on a supposedly good Catholic man for protection and the necessities of life itself. Antonio's doubts did not include judgment.
However, his own instincts came to the surface into his mind when Mother General came to him one night, alone and asking for spiritual counseling. She wanted his advice.
"We are in a dangerous position here and we know it. But, I am concerned about the souls of my young nuns, and as you have seen, they are all young. They seem, well, out of touch with the Cross. We grateful were taken from death by those who now have died, so that we could come here and pray and serve God. But, Antonio, should we have stayed and been martyred? I sometimes think I made the wrong decision coming here to what I thought was a place to serve the Church through prayer. But, we are not suffering, except in anxiety, not knowing what will happen day by day. Did I make the wrong decision for my little congregation? Did I run away from the Cross God offered all of us?"
Now, Antonio knew how to respond to this series of questions. His gut feelings had proved good and true.
"Mother, I think you were wrong. But, God will give you another opportunity to show Him that you love Him more than life. Make a good confession, repent, and move on. God is good and offers us the crown again and again. I know this is so."
Mother's eyes filled with tears. She accepted the rebuke she sensed was coming. She confessed not obeying the Will of God and for leading her nuns away from God's Will.
Antonio knew that he could stay now. He knew he had a spiritual sister in Mother whose eyes had been opened by grace. He knew they would both be offered the crown of glory through suffering. He rested in the peace of the Cross.
To be continued....
Does this bother anyone else? Offering children to the god Moloch
http://newyork.cbslocal.com/2014/01/06/n-y-group-applies-to-build-satan-statue-at-oklahoma-state-capitol/
Satan hugging your children? The god of sacrificing the oldest child for prosperity was Moloch. The god of Mammon demanded blood. So, too, America is giving up the children to abortion, contraception, child euthanasia which will come, pedophilia......
This is chilling. Reality....in the USA.
It reminds me of Anubis, the god of the dead in Egypt. Where is the outcry?
Satan hugging your children? The god of sacrificing the oldest child for prosperity was Moloch. The god of Mammon demanded blood. So, too, America is giving up the children to abortion, contraception, child euthanasia which will come, pedophilia......
This is chilling. Reality....in the USA.
It reminds me of Anubis, the god of the dead in Egypt. Where is the outcry?
The Hour Glass Part Nineteen
The first stop, not counting rests in copses along the way, was at Haughley. Quickly, word that Catholics priests would have confession and say Mass spread around the area. By the time the priests were ready for the faithful, fifteen people were at the door of the large house. Staying six hours, after hearing confessions, saying Mass and giving a teaching, leaving at dark, the four continued through the countryside, moving beyond Newman's Green, and trudging towards their next stop at Margeretting Tye, a hamlet with a handful of houses and cottages. Samuel wanted all the stay overnight there, instead of taking a few hours of rest. Columcille seemed ill. He shuffled rather than walked, and he looked at the ground.
At Margaretting Tye in a newish cottage off the main road, the Howards had cousins. This family, the Talbots, claimed descendancy and the Howards, indeed accepted them as related from the wife of Thomas, Alethea Talbot. Their claims could be physically seen even in this rather small house, as originals of Titian graced the walls.
Samuel said Mass for the family only, as these were the only Catholics left in this hamlet. Then, the four washed and slept for two hours. The Talbots provided new clothes, boots and more food for the road. The snow was hampering the men's timetable, but Samuel's prediction of 70 hours, as opposed to the usual 50, included making more stops than one would on sunny July day.
Samuel decided to skip Bartholomew Green as the walk around London caused them all a certain amount of trepidation. London and the outskirts must be avoided. The only way to go was north, and then west again.
They could double back to Bagshot in a day and rest there before going on to Farnborough Abbey.
The Serles provided the priests with much humor. They bickered and quarreled, mostly in fun, like siblings, but their good temper and optimism infected the small party. They had concealed their disappointment at missing the house in Pebmarsh. Mark was a bit homesick. But, the weather became the greatest obstacle, as the farther south the group traveled, they endured worse and worse bitter winds and snow.
Then, an hour out of Margaretting Tye, Columcille collapsed. Samuel blamed himself for not letting the priest stay at Braintree with his old friend. The older priest felt he was pushing the group too hard. But, Braintree was six hours back, and the group could not go that far. Should they backtrack to Margaretting Tye? Were there any safe houses north of Greater London besides Bagshot, more than eleven hours away, if one did not cross London?
"We have to go back. I do not know of one house between the Talbots and Bagshot. Do you?" Samuel turned to the Serles. "St Mary's Church, Ingatestone! There was an Anglo-Catholic priest there, but it would be the same time, almost, as going back to Margaretting Tye. I cannot think of anything closer." Mark spoke first.
Then his brother had another idea. "You have forgotten the sisters at Pilgrim's Hatch. That would be no more than fifteen minutes from here. We can go there."
Samuel, in his anxiety and rush, had forgotten the good sisters in hiding there. "Yes, this is Providential. I need to see them, of course."
The two young men picked up Columcille and carried him between them. He felt hot, feverish. They stumbled in the snow.
The three walked as fast as they could and finally, they saw the old dairy which was where the sisters were supposed to be. A dark line of smoke rose from the chimney. If they had to meet strangers, so be it. Columcille was very ill.
"Mark, run ahead and find out who is there. Just say you are a traveler. Use your wits." Samuel and the others waited about thirty feet from the door under some yew trees.
The door opened and a woman spoke to Mark. He then ran back to the others. "Fine, the sisters are here. Hurry, they say they are watched."
Within minutes, Columcille was in a warm bed under the care of Sister Audrey, a former nurse. The other three washed, and ate tea and toast with the other three sisters.
"I thought you had more sisters here, Sister Agnes," noted Samuel.
"We started out up north with eight. Within the first year, two died. Sister Louis de Montfort and Sister Matthew Mary, who were both elderly, died of the flu. Then, two months ago, Sister Frances Xavier died of a heart attack. A month later, Sister Hilda died suddenly. We honestly do not know why. They are all buried behind the old dairy. Will you bless their graves, Father, I mean Samuel. None had the Last Rites."
Samuel looked into the large, sad eyes of Mother Charles, and said, "Of course and, I am sure you want Mass and confessions."
The two seminarians went upstairs to the small bedroom where Sister Audrey looked over Columcille.
"He is not well. It is some putrid fever which I cannot identify. There are so many strange and new illnesses. I must say I am afraid for him." The two seminarians told Sister they would watch so that she could go to confession and attend Mass, while the young men took turns. Mark stayed. After Mass, Samuel brought Communion to John. He was hoping to give Communion to Columcille, but the priest's face was grey.
"John, he is slipping away from us." Samuel could hardly speak. He then prayed the prayers of the dying and anointed Columcille. At the end of the sacrament, Columcille opened his eyes. "Samuel, I would like the Lord in the Host."
"Yes, can you swallow?" Samuel became emotional, but he tried to control his voice. This was his spiritual son, slipping away into eternity. He priest gave his friend Viaticum.
"You will get better, Columcille," the old priest said softly.
"No, I am dying, Samuel. I know."
"Now, now...." Samuel could not finish his sentence. "Do not say that."
"Samuel, I know, I know. I have seen The Lord. I saw Him, without the black spots. Do you understand? I saw Him."
Samuel bowed his head and went out of the room. He called the sisters around him. "Come, watch the death of a saint."
The four sisters, John and Mark stood around the bed. They decided to sing the Salve Regina, for some reason. And, Columcille died.
Samuel decided, as it was night, they would stay this night, and a day and leave at night the following day.
Sister Audrey took over, and in the dark before dawn, another grave was added to the small cemetery of sisters behind the dairy. Samuel blessed all the mounds, all but one hidden by the snow. He stood there for a long time. Why do the young have to go first? Why am I now so alone? God's ways were not our ways.....And I wanted him at Farnborough, not here.
To be continued...
At Margaretting Tye in a newish cottage off the main road, the Howards had cousins. This family, the Talbots, claimed descendancy and the Howards, indeed accepted them as related from the wife of Thomas, Alethea Talbot. Their claims could be physically seen even in this rather small house, as originals of Titian graced the walls.
Samuel said Mass for the family only, as these were the only Catholics left in this hamlet. Then, the four washed and slept for two hours. The Talbots provided new clothes, boots and more food for the road. The snow was hampering the men's timetable, but Samuel's prediction of 70 hours, as opposed to the usual 50, included making more stops than one would on sunny July day.
Samuel decided to skip Bartholomew Green as the walk around London caused them all a certain amount of trepidation. London and the outskirts must be avoided. The only way to go was north, and then west again.
They could double back to Bagshot in a day and rest there before going on to Farnborough Abbey.
The Serles provided the priests with much humor. They bickered and quarreled, mostly in fun, like siblings, but their good temper and optimism infected the small party. They had concealed their disappointment at missing the house in Pebmarsh. Mark was a bit homesick. But, the weather became the greatest obstacle, as the farther south the group traveled, they endured worse and worse bitter winds and snow.
Then, an hour out of Margaretting Tye, Columcille collapsed. Samuel blamed himself for not letting the priest stay at Braintree with his old friend. The older priest felt he was pushing the group too hard. But, Braintree was six hours back, and the group could not go that far. Should they backtrack to Margaretting Tye? Were there any safe houses north of Greater London besides Bagshot, more than eleven hours away, if one did not cross London?
"We have to go back. I do not know of one house between the Talbots and Bagshot. Do you?" Samuel turned to the Serles. "St Mary's Church, Ingatestone! There was an Anglo-Catholic priest there, but it would be the same time, almost, as going back to Margaretting Tye. I cannot think of anything closer." Mark spoke first.
Then his brother had another idea. "You have forgotten the sisters at Pilgrim's Hatch. That would be no more than fifteen minutes from here. We can go there."
Samuel, in his anxiety and rush, had forgotten the good sisters in hiding there. "Yes, this is Providential. I need to see them, of course."
The two young men picked up Columcille and carried him between them. He felt hot, feverish. They stumbled in the snow.
The three walked as fast as they could and finally, they saw the old dairy which was where the sisters were supposed to be. A dark line of smoke rose from the chimney. If they had to meet strangers, so be it. Columcille was very ill.
"Mark, run ahead and find out who is there. Just say you are a traveler. Use your wits." Samuel and the others waited about thirty feet from the door under some yew trees.
The door opened and a woman spoke to Mark. He then ran back to the others. "Fine, the sisters are here. Hurry, they say they are watched."
Within minutes, Columcille was in a warm bed under the care of Sister Audrey, a former nurse. The other three washed, and ate tea and toast with the other three sisters.
"I thought you had more sisters here, Sister Agnes," noted Samuel.
"We started out up north with eight. Within the first year, two died. Sister Louis de Montfort and Sister Matthew Mary, who were both elderly, died of the flu. Then, two months ago, Sister Frances Xavier died of a heart attack. A month later, Sister Hilda died suddenly. We honestly do not know why. They are all buried behind the old dairy. Will you bless their graves, Father, I mean Samuel. None had the Last Rites."
Samuel looked into the large, sad eyes of Mother Charles, and said, "Of course and, I am sure you want Mass and confessions."
The two seminarians went upstairs to the small bedroom where Sister Audrey looked over Columcille.
"He is not well. It is some putrid fever which I cannot identify. There are so many strange and new illnesses. I must say I am afraid for him." The two seminarians told Sister they would watch so that she could go to confession and attend Mass, while the young men took turns. Mark stayed. After Mass, Samuel brought Communion to John. He was hoping to give Communion to Columcille, but the priest's face was grey.
"John, he is slipping away from us." Samuel could hardly speak. He then prayed the prayers of the dying and anointed Columcille. At the end of the sacrament, Columcille opened his eyes. "Samuel, I would like the Lord in the Host."
"Yes, can you swallow?" Samuel became emotional, but he tried to control his voice. This was his spiritual son, slipping away into eternity. He priest gave his friend Viaticum.
"You will get better, Columcille," the old priest said softly.
"No, I am dying, Samuel. I know."
"Now, now...." Samuel could not finish his sentence. "Do not say that."
"Samuel, I know, I know. I have seen The Lord. I saw Him, without the black spots. Do you understand? I saw Him."
Samuel bowed his head and went out of the room. He called the sisters around him. "Come, watch the death of a saint."
The four sisters, John and Mark stood around the bed. They decided to sing the Salve Regina, for some reason. And, Columcille died.
Samuel decided, as it was night, they would stay this night, and a day and leave at night the following day.
Sister Audrey took over, and in the dark before dawn, another grave was added to the small cemetery of sisters behind the dairy. Samuel blessed all the mounds, all but one hidden by the snow. He stood there for a long time. Why do the young have to go first? Why am I now so alone? God's ways were not our ways.....And I wanted him at Farnborough, not here.
To be continued...
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