Filed under: Autumn's Leaves
The occasional ruminations of a Catholic Wife, Mother, Grandmother & Counsellor approaching the mellow Autumn of her life. Despite life’s ups and downs, I am always aware of God’s canopy of love over me, rain or shine. You are most welcome to share my *bench* 
“…His banner over me is love.” ~ Song of Songs 2v4
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For all things homely, visit my Life on the Home Front blog
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For peace and solitude, visit my Seeking Silence blog
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For the wisdom of our Holy Father, visit Benedict Everyday
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Visit my page on Saint Therese and I will pray for you!
…as promised!
Yesterday I went to my *new Church* (it feels so good to say that after being slightly adrift for so long!) for Rosary prayers, followed by Mass. Yes, it was everything I had hoped it would be…
I love praying the Rosary, and there is something very special about praying it with others, when I’m so used to praying it alone. I had to shift focus, as I normally pray it in Latin, and this time it was in English, but that took only a Hail Mary or two! There was such a sense of “Where two or three are gathered etc.”, and I realised how much I have missed praying with others! We prayed the Glorious Mysteries, which are beautiful, and probably my favourites (although that changes from time to time). I always have this sense of Mary holding my hand when I pray the Rosary, and Jesus comes to me through her, as He came into being through her. [That doesn't mean I always experience Jesus *through* Mary, but the times I do, I feel a real sense of maternal, as well as paternal love].
Mass was, well, Mass was Glorious, too, and so reverently and prayerfully offered! I wanted to run up to receive today (not that I ever would, but there was a sense of running in my heart) so much did I want to receive the Body and Blood. It was such a blessing, as was the conversation I had with J (who I met on Saturday) afterwards ~ unlike in my own Parish Church, our conversation just fell naturally onto spiritual matters, and we just sat and talked about faith and prayer Then another lady joined us, a lay Carmelite this time, so I met someone from yet another tradition.
I feel so positive, optimistic and blessed by this Church already after two visits! The sense of prayer, serenity and the Holy Spirit is tangible, and the priest is a lovely, gentle, humble man. As I was discussing the Sunday prayer group with J (which I hope to make this coming Sunday) it seems I have stumbled upon a Charismatic Catholic group here! How exciting! A few years ago, I would have found that scary, as my experience in a charismatic pentecostal church some years ago was very negative and damaging, but J assured me that it is all thoroughly Catholic, and more in a sense of inward transfomation rather than outward display. I can’t wait to go on Sunday now, and am just thanking God with a full and overflowing heart for the gifts He has blessd me with this week!
I have been praying for the Holy Spirit’s intervention in my faith-life every day for some time, using this prayer with my morning/evening devotions…
Cardinal Mercier’s Prayer to the Holy Spirit
O Holy Spirit, Soul of my soul, I adore You.
Enlighten, guide, strengthen and console me.
Tell me what I ought to do and command me to do it.
I promise to be submissive in everything that You permit to happen to me,
only show me what is Your will.
~ Amen
Praise God for His goodness to us!!
First of all, apologies for being so sparse and quiet. It’s summer holiday time, and all I seem to have done with it so far is babysit/spend time with grandchildren/family, so there hasn’t been much time for blogging. But other things have been happening too and there have been some exciting new developments in my life…
I may have briefly mentioned a couple of times that I have not been happy in my Parish Church. This is not the place to go into al the details of why, but one of the (less serious) issues has been the total lack of any kind of spiritual input outside of Mass. No prayer groups, faith groups, indeed groups of any kind. I have felt very lonely faith-wise lately (as I have blogged recently) and was at my wits end. I had tried a small rural Church in a rather *posh* village nearby, but gave up after 3 visits where not one single person bar the Priest spoke to me, and he only to say goodbye and shake my hand very quickly before turning to chat with the regular behind me 
Well, this last weekend I ventured off in the opposite direction, to a Catholic Church in the town where I work, about 5 miles away from home, and, well…where do I start??!! It was one of those occasions when everything seemed to come together and confirm something, and I felt the presence of God’s Holy Spirit so powerfully during Mass I was trembling. At the end of Mass I spontaneously prayed quietly in tongues for a while, and then the Ave Maria a few times in Latin as if it was my normal language. It seemed at that point that all the different parts of me were brought together as a whole and blessed by God in a really powerful way!
When I went in I had intended to sit quietly at the back, but I saw an African lady sat on the 3rd pew back (wearing one of those beautiful bright coloured African dresses!) and felt I should sit next to her. After Mass she (F) spoke to me, and was really friendly. Turns out she was a 3rd order Dominican. I asked her if she knew which lady was J (who my confirmation sponsor mentioned often as going to this Church and who is involved in the prayer group) and she called her over. J was lovely, as was F, and is a Franciscan Tertiary…so there was a Dominican, a Franciscan and a Benedictine together in one pew! I was invited to go to an after Mass prayer meeting on Sunday which I intend to do…
And something else happened, too…I haven’t received the wine for a long time until last night (except for once on retreat) as I didn’t agree/feel comfortable with unconsecrated persons (Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion) administering it, but during Mass, I really, really felt I wanted and needed to receive the blood of Christ, as well as the body. I had read a poem on a new blog I found last week which really gave me a hunger for it. I hope Anne doesn’t mind me directing you to it, and posting the first verse:
“Amen” I say, and the cup is offered;
a small sip and I am back
on my knees with the taste of
the Precious Blood still strongly
flavoring my mouth.
When I read this, I knew I had to have the blood of Christ, and all my concerns about EMHCs just disappeared [although I still couldn't receive the Sacred Host from anything but the consecrated hands of a Priest 
]. It was an experience I can’t even explain when I received, like being washed over completely in Christ. It kind of felt covenental, in some way. I’m not tying to analyse, just enjoy!
I am so grateful to God for His clear direction, and for leading me to a Church which was full and friendly and to have been so blessed by the Spirit ~ my spirit is still soaring! Deo Gratias!
Part two is to follow…watch this space 
I have been tagged by Rita of tigerish waters so here are my 3. I have them pasted into the front and back of my Daily Prayer book, and say them often…
Cardinal Mercier’s Prayer to the Holy Spirit
O Holy Spirit, Soul of my soul, I adore You.
Enlighten, guide, strengthen and console me.
Tell me what I ought to do and command me to do it.
I promise to be submissive in everything that You permit to happen to me,
only show me what is Your will…Amen
Blessed Therese Couderc’s Act of Oblation
Lord Jesus, I unite myself
to your perpetual, unceasing,
universal sacrifice.
I offer myself to you every day of my life
and every moment of every day
according to your most holy and adorable will.
You have been the victim of my salvation;
I wish to be the victim of your love.
Accept my desire, take my offering,
graciously hear my prayer.
Let me live for love of you;
let me die for love of you,
let my last heartbeat be
an act of perfect love…Amen
Prayer of Saint Bonaventure
Pierce, O most sweet Lord Jesus, my inmost soul with the most joyous and healthful wound of Thy love, and with true, calm and most holy apostolic charity, that my soul may ever languish and melt with entire love and longing for Thee, may yearn for Thee and for thy courts, may long to be dissolved and to be with Thee.
Grant that my soul may hunger after Thee, the Bread of Angels, the refreshment of holy souls, our daily and super substantial bread, having all sweetness and savor and every delightful taste.
May my heart ever hunger after and feed upon Thee, Whom the angels desire to look upon, and may my inmost soul be filled with the sweetness of Thy savor; may it ever thirst for Thee, the fountain of life, the fountain of wisdom and knowledge, the fountain of eternal light, the torrent of pleasure, the fullness of the house of God;
may it ever compass Thee, seek Thee, find Thee, run to Thee, come up to Thee, meditate on Thee, speak of Thee, and do all for the praise and glory of Thy name, with humility and discretion, with love and delight, with ease and affection, with perseverance to the end; and be Thou alone ever my hope, my entire confidence, my riches, my delight, my pleasure, my joy, my rest and tranquility, my peace, my sweetness, my food, my refreshment, my refuge, my help, my wisdom, my portion, my possession, my treasure; in Whom may my mind and my heart be ever fixed and firm and rooted immovably…Amen
These three prayers sum up virtually everything for me, and encapsulate my desire for submission to God, to do His will, to seek His Spirit and to love Him with all my heart. Thanks for tagging me, Rita
Filed under: Prayer
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about prayer this week while I’ve been off work and have the time and space to do so. Sometimes I struggle with my prayer life, and this seems to be a “common denominator” amongst most Christians I know. I’ve been reading a book, Personality and Prayer, by Ruth Fowkes, and it’s really helped me to clarify a couple of points. For instance, I have discovered that the way I relate to God is *relational* and also that I tend to flit about in prayer, like a butterfly going from flower to flower
The relational aspect really helped me to understand myself better. I compare it to my closest relationship, with my husband, and the many ways we communicate. Imagine if hubby and I had a set formula for communicating, and always said the same thing in the same order? Sometimes this is what prayer feels like, especially when praying the Office. There are set elements to hubby and I’s interactions, ie when one gets in from work, the other always asks “how was your day?” and then we can offload ~ but then the conversation takes its own twists and turns. In seeing this, I can see how the Office can be used as a springboard for other types of prayer. Sometimes my husband and I talk at length and deeply; at other times, we simply chat; sometimes we sit in companiable silence; at other times we do something practical together, like making a meal. All these can be ways of praying, too!
I read something online the other day about prayer, which made me feel really cross! This is it…
When a person goes to a florist to buy a flower, he selects the most beautiful flower that he can find, one that emits a pleasant fragrance, one that is blooming, that is rich in colourful petals, that is free of defects, that is appealing to the eyes, etc… Symbolically speaking, when a person presents a prayer petition to God, it is like presenting that most beautiful flower in exchange for a worldly or spiritual favour that is being requested. The greater the beauty of the flower, the greater the likelihood that the petitioner shall obtain the favour that he is seeking from God. If the petitioner gives God a flower that is covered with dirt, has a number of defects and half of the petals are missing, surely this would be an insult to God. God would turn His back to the petitioner and ignore the unworthy prayer request.
It made me so cross I shouted at the computer screen! I agree that our prayer is an offering to God, but also feel that we are incapable of offering a “perfect flower”. I thought of my Grandson. Often when I meet him and my daughter in town, he has, in his sweaty fist, a flower or weed he’s picked for me as they walk along the river into town. By the time I get it, it’s usually been squashed in his fist, has lost half its petals and very often doesn’t have a stalk at all. One time, he brought me a poppy seed head, and said I could sprinkle the seeds on a lasagne (!!) But each and every offering is beautiful in my eyes. So it is with God. No matter how inadequate and stumbling and illiterate my prayer, to God it will always be precious because He loves me with an even deeper love than I love my Grandson!
What do you think? I shall be back to ponder more on prayer
Filed under: Awards
…which is encouraging, as I’ve been hopeless at up-dating it recently! I’m in a place, spiritually which is very hard to put into words without sounding completely over-the-top. In a nutshell, I am going through a very deep and intense time in my relationship with Jesus, like falling head over heels in love with Him all over again. The verse which really sums up where I’ve been is from the Song of Songs: “My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.” and that’s where I’ve been ~ away with God, focusing on Him, basking in His love, falling into His arms. Forgive me! I told you it would sound over the top, and I will share more when I can do it justice (and be coherent!)
Until then, thanks to Sharon @ A Catholic Calling for blessing me with this award! If you read this, please consider it passed on to you too!
I took these photos recently, of the most magnificent sunset, from the back of my house. I love it when God paints the sky in such beautiful, vibrant colours…and on closer inspection, saw that my beloved cat was sat on the post at the bottom of one of the pictures. I wanted to share them with you…
I have been thinking about posture in relation to prayer, kneeling in particular, and wanted to share how my prayer life *benefits * from this posture (I tentatively say “benefits”, as we ourselves can never know just how beneficial prayer is. It is a mystery, the depths of which can only be plumbed by God, but one can be aware of a little of these depths, from time to time). Kneeling has become an important part of my prayer life. If I don’t kneel before God in my private devotions, then I haven’t lived the day well, or given God the reverence He deserves. Kneeling is a natural response to God, it places me in my rightful position before Him.
Kneeling, for me, is the only true response to coming before my Heavenly Father during the Eucharist too, in an attitude of humble submission. Once I get down on my knees, creakingly, I am unable to big myself up, to be arrogant, knowledgable, powerful or any other manifestations of the ego. I am immediately reminded of my humble state before God. Furthermore, with head bowed, I am in an attitude of pleading before Him, waiting for the gentle touch of His hand upon my head. Of course, this is something which occurs spiritually, but there have been two occasions when kneeling when I have physically felt His touch. One time was when kneeling to receive communion at Mass (in the ordinary form). Everyone in front of me received standing, most in the hand. It was the day I had decided that I was going to kneel, despite the fact that there was no altar rail, and I would have to kneel on the hard, dusty floor of the aisle. It seemed a small penance in light of the great sacrifice the Sacrament embodies. But I was very nervous! It is difficult to do something that might single oneself out as “different”, and I found myself almost shaking and feeling hot and cold on proceeding towards the Priest!
Never-the-less, when it came to my turn to receive, I knelt, opened my mouth to receive the Host on my tongue and closed my eyes. As the Priest placed the Host in my mouth, I felt pressure on my head, and wondered why he had placed his hands on my head. I opened my eyes, and of course he had not! And yet the pressure was there, and remained there through the rest of the Mass and for a good while afterwards. For me it was a grace and a confirmation that I had done the right thing in kneeling, and have done so ever since. It is a worthwhile penance to have to kneel where people’s dirty shoes have previously walked…of course, not all are physically able to kneel, but as long as I can, I will.
I long for the day when altar rails are re-instated, and where the faithful can easily and naturally kneel to receive the Eucharist. Unfortunately, there have been reported cases of Priests refusing communion to someone who is kneeling despite having no right to do so. My own priest, when I informed him I wished to receive on the tongue said “if that’s what you want, but please don’t kneel”, one of the many reasons I no longer attend my own Parish Church along with this one (yes, it’s still there!)
Pope Benedict has said that all who want to kneel should be permitted to kneel. It pains me greatly that in the Anglican tradition, one can still receive kneeling at an altar rail, while the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church has ripped hers out in the name of modernisim. Maybe one day, this will be the norm in our Churches again…
As a continuation on my previous post on the new BBC sitcom, Rev.
…I was encouraged to watch the 2nd episode on the recommendation of a friend, which I did so reluctantly. Depsite still being peppered (although not quite so liberally) with innuendo, it did make a serious point, and made me slightly revise my opinion. Ok, so I still wish there weren’t quite so many sexual references and instances of bad language, this did spoil the viewing, but underneath there was substance, and character development.
I won’t go into the episode in detail, but will just say that if anyone has been put off watching Rev. because of my last entry, then perhaps I have done you a disservice. Both episodes are still available on BBC iPlayer.
Sometimes, occasionally, I am wrong 
Filed under: Autumn is feeling...
This last week has been incredibly hard, and culminated yesterday in having to have my old cat put to sleep, due to kidney, heart and thyroid problems. The house feels so lonely without him, as I’m used to having him purring round my feet all the while my husband is at work. I miss him! He was so gentle, lovely and affectionate, and even though he has been ill for a while, still a source of amusement with his funny little ways. He was much loved and will be greatly missed. I firmly believe that animals go to a great garden in the sky somewhere and it’s comforting to think of him running and playing and chasing butterflies, all the things he hasn’t been able to do for a while…
R.I.P. Dookie, we love you!
Two of my favourite photos of him…
I have the blues…
I have noticed myself becoming generally sadder and sadder over the last few days. Well, perhaps longer, but I have been fighting it, admirably. But now I have surrendered and given in to it in an attempt to be *real*, and its waves have just washed over me, as if I was standing on a beach like King Canute, trying to hold the waves at bay, and then all of sudden I find myself underwater in a murky blue haze…
There are many identifiable reasons why I feel blue, not least an issue at work which I am fighting but with a hopeless sense of swinging at windmills. The last two days I have had to admit to myself that I can’t win this one *sigh*. Never-the-less, it will impact on me, my work, my clients. After giving myself unreservedly to my work for ten years I now find myself in the worst situation I have been in, environment-wise. It is a trial, and one which, right now, just makes me want to give up and cry.
And then there is a crushing sense of loneliness which seems to taint every day. I breathe it in and breathe it out again, every in breath causes a pain in the centre of my chest. Every out breath fails to release it. How can I have reached the age of 48 and feel so horribly alone, even with family around me. I ache…I long for a Church community where I feel enclosed, safe and loved ~ dare I say where I am even noticed ~ but I don’t have it. I go to Mass, I enter into the mystery of Christ (which is always a blessing) and then I leave. I don’t have friends at Church. I worship alone, in a little mini-vacuum, with a stream of connection, like a rope made out of twisted light, between myself and Jesus, but nothing goes sideways . There are no connections between me and others that go beyond the superficial level 1 communication. My family, I adore. They love me, they truly care. But they cannot always give me the kind of companionship I long for.
I keep reminding myself that we are a pilgrim people. This is not my home, for I am on a journey to eternity, and will always be a stranger in the world. In some respects, I do not belong here, and I long for the day when I will see Jesus face to face and fall into His arms and never feel lonely or isolated again. There are times when I look at Scripture with a real envy of those who were able to see Jesus in the flesh, to touch Him, as the woman who washed His feet with tears and wiped them with her hair, or Thomas who placed his hand in our Lord’s side. I can wash His feet in Spirit, but I long for the feel of His rough carpenter’s hands placed gently on my head, the smell of His skin, the sound of His voice, His eyes holding my gaze in love…
Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus…
Filed under: Autumn's Leaves,Being Catholic,Obedience,Pondering Church,Pondering Sin
I am acutely aware today of the damage that is done by those who speak out against the truths of Catholic teaching. Who stir up dissent against our Holy Father. Who proclaim that sex outside of the marriage relationship, practising homosexuality, contraception and abortion aren’t sinful after all, as we have been taught. What they do, they say they do in the name of equality and love, but one of the most un-loving things we can do is to convince someone that their sin isn’t sin after all, and so lead them into spiritual danger. Such things create confusion, sin and spiritual death.
Jesus never refused to speak out against sin, but He did so lovingly. To condone sin, whether ours or another person’s, is to be unlike Jesus. To follow Him is to hang fast to Truth, however much that may hurt us or invite attack against us. Being Catholic often means being lonely and misunderstood, but we cannot compromise with God, nor He with us. Being calumniated and despised is a part of the life of faith.
I am writing this as I am painfully aware right now of the consequences for someone who has been led into un-truth by well-meaning but harmful advice, and is now paying the price. Those who were involved in the selling of these un-truths will also have to stand before God and give account of themselves.
Be true, be faithful, be holy, be Catholic in every sense of the word. It may hurt us now, but we will be rewarded in eternity.
Old Man in Sorrow (On the Threshold of Eternity) by Vincent Van Gogh
Am I a prude? I’m sure some of my friends might think I am…
I watched a new tv sitcom on BBC iPlayer last night (and there goes my first mistake in the words “BBC” and “sitcom”, so I should have known better) called Rev. It is centred around an inner city London Vicar and the goings on at his rather run down Anglican Church. The last attempt the BBC had at *doing religion* was the Vicar of Dibley with Dawn French, which was rather amusing to begin with, but which rapidly descended into smutty innuendo (at which point I stopped watching). This new series, Rev. has taken smutty innuendo as a tag-line from the beginning, and I felt more and more dismayed whilst watching.
I truly and honestly hope it isn’t a realistic portrayal of the Church of England, as I do know some very genuine and devout Christians who are CofE, including a couple of vicar’s wives. Every character in the Church was either completely barmy, smouldering with barely contained lust or simply using the Church to get a place at the local Church school. The curate was, at the opposite extreme, an over-serious, flowery-languaged, pious Bible know-it-all. The Archdeacon was portrayed as some kind of slimy snake. There was a reference to the Vicar’s predecessor as having “scuttled off to Rome”, and was it really necessary to have the episode peppered with references to “c**k” and middle-aged ladies having “o****ms” during the sermon? Every single character was deeply caricatured and the whole concept was flawed from the word go.
You see, the problem with sitcoms centred around religion, is that spirituality and humour which appeals to the BBC viewing public don’t go together. The only character who is portrayed as having any serious spirituality is the curate, but it is of the kind which is as off-putting as the innuendo ~ a self-righteous know-it-all who takes 3 weeks to write a sermon and gets excited at exposing hypocrites. What a dismal representation of faith, and definitely a programme which I have placed on the “unsuitable for this Catholic” list!
But it’s hard isn’t it, not to appear prudish at times like this. Whilst I acknowledge that one cannot live in a cosy religious bubble, and there are elements of real life which are shocking, disturbing and unsavoury which we cannot avoid and sometimes need to address, we have to walk a fine line between “being in the world, but not of the world”, as Jesus Himself prayed for us:
I have given them your word and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world. My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one. (John 17v14-15)
As Christian believers we are set apart, we do not share the world’s values, we are called to be holy as God is holy. It’s a very tall order, and I for one am constantly trying, constantly failing, constantly seeking forgiveness. But Jesus tells us we are “the light of the world”, a small candle flame taken from the greater flame of His love, to illuminate the darkness around us; “the salt of the earth”, called to preserve and not to corrupt. The things we take into ourselves ~ what we read, listen to and look at, can hinder or help. We have to carefully discern for ourselves the effects of what it is we are focusing on, especially in the name of entertainment.
Perhaps these words can be our guide…
Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. (Phil. 4v8)
Good Morning Friends! How are you today? I’ve just got time for a quick chat and fill-in. Things are still busy at the moment, and I haven’t had a quiet day for a couple of weeks now, just the odd quiet moment. I had a very busy Sunday, consisting of going to a Summer Lunch event at my daughter’s (Anglican) Church, on the hottest day of the year so far (and it was HOT!!) The afternoon was spent at her house watching England’s utterly dismal failure in the World Cup My husband was not a happy man!
I have also been suffering from a gum infection for the last week, hence the warning. My dentist prescribed me some antibiotics called Metronidazole (Flagyl) which I started taking yesterday, and oh boy, did I react to them. After just two tablets I had horrendous stomach pains, making me double over, dizziness, hot flushes and palpitations, visual disturbances, pins and needles in my fingers and toes, wobbly legs, disorientation, confusion, a *crawly* scalp (like ants in my hair!) and a foul taste in my mouth. You can read all about the adverse effects here. It was just horrible and I was actually quite scared… 
So be warned! This is a very, very strong antibiotic which in some people can also cause anxiety, panic attacks and depression.
Needless to say I stopped taking it after 2 tablets, and am going back to the dentist for a different prescription this afternoon, and to have a warning added to my medical records. I still feel wobbly and not quite right this morning, and had such a disturbed night’s sleep, I was thrashing and moaning and doubling up with the pain in my stomach, sides and back! Thankfully the pain has gone now. I am taking the tablets back to the pharmacy this afternoon, and hopefully will get a refund of the prescription charges.
Otherwise, life goes on. I had a difficult week spiritually last week, and struggled with certain temptations. Thankfully at the moment God is holding me very close (I need to be close to His heart!) But it has been a useful experience. Although perhaps a contentious thing to say, sometimes sin plays a positive part in our lives. During confession a Franciscan Friar once said to me that sometimes sin’s purpose is to humble us, to make us face up to our own frailty and our need for God, to help us to see ourselves as we really are ~ totally dependant on Him. It is a helpful antidote to pride, as long as we don’t use this as an excuse to sin deliberately, and make sure we go to confession as soon as we are able, with a firm resolve to cease from sin. But it has shown me just how weak and frail my human nature is, and made me realise that I need to lean on God all the more and surrender all parts of myself to Him.
Well, that’s enough from me for today ~ I hope your day is a good one, take care now!
I was struck by something I heard on the radio last night. Every Sunday evening, I listen to Sunday Half Hour with Father Brian d’Arcy, usually in the bath, but don’t linger on that image Last night, he shared about an experience which really spoke to me. He talked about his yearly visit to the island of Inish Davar on Lough Erne in Northern Ireland to see the beautiful display on bluebells. This year, the display had been less spectacular due to the over-long, over-cold winter, but rather than being a disappointment, Father d’Arcy said that this led him to look around, and further afield, at the other natural beauty the island had to offer. Instead of being mesmerised by the bluebells alone, his vision was widened to take in much more, things he hadn’t really noticed before despite having made many visits.
This is a really powerful picture, because it tells me that I can so often focus on what is good and beautiful immediately “close to home”, and be mesmerised by it. Whilst it is, of course, good to acknowledge our blessings and consolations, we can too easily become obsessed by them, or think that they are necessary to our well-being. And yet there are times when God removes these familiar, expected consolations from our lives, for our own good, so that we can widen our vision and look for broader horizons. Focusing in on one small aspect of our lives often means that we miss other, equally beautiful sights, and even when all consolations have been removed, hope is not lost, for then we can do nothing but focus on God.
There is a saying I came across a while ago “seek God’s heart, not His hands”. In other words, seek God for who He is, rather than for what He can give us. It may be that God gives us nothing but Himself, but in that, we have everything we could ever need, as the prayer of St. Ignatius reminds us:
Take, O Lord, and receive my entire liberty,
my memory, my understanding and my whole will.
All that I am and all that I possess You have given me:
I surrender it all to You to be disposed of according to Your will.
Give me only Your love and Your grace;
with these I will be rich enough,
and will desire nothing more.
~Amen~
There are many examples in the lives of the saints, of godly men and women who surrendered to God all earthly and worldly comforts in His service, accepting sickness, persecutions even death, and were richly blessed spiritually. Even if we can only imitate them in very small ways, it is a step. We may not always have a profusion of bluebells, but we will always have God.
The bluebells of Inish Davar
Filed under: Autumn's Leaves,Humility,Pondering Grace,Pondering Holiness,Pondering Love,Pondering Self
I have been messing about trying out some new WordPress themes, so if you tried to find my blogs and found something which looked entirely different, that is why! I am going to stick with this one, as I am rather fond of it, and I have swapped and changed a few times since starting this blog, which is a sign of a restless mind! I’ll just change the header picture now and again, until I’ve worked my way through all my Autumn photos
It is tempting, isn’t it, to change exteriors? We often do this kind of cosmetic work when it comes to our relationship with God. We can easily change what’s on the outside in an attempt to put right what’s on the inside…we may attempt to appear holy to others, to be seen going to Mass, to try to appear pious. It can feel that way sometimes when one becomes aware of being the only one at mass wearing a mantilla ~ I would hate to think that others thought I was doing it to appear “holier than thou”. But wearing a mantilla won’t mean anything to God if it is covering up a mean spirit, a gossiping mouth, a hard heart. God looks not at the outside, but at the heart. How do I know? Because Scripture tells me…
“For the LORD does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7
We live in a culture which is so dominated by appearances, whether that is physical beauty, or the appearance of wealth or success. People who are poor, shabby, unfashionable, plain, old, disabled are often overlooked in private and public life, and yet none of us know what is in a person’s heart. But God looks beyond and beneath, He knows our thoughts, our feelings, hopes, dreams, fears, aspirations. He recognises our longings and responds to them; He desires only to bring us into a right relationship with Him and then love us into growth, like a gardener tending a fragile plant, until we bloom for Him alone.
So, needless to say, I haven’t changed my blog templates but at least the temptation gave me some food for thought! Have a great day!
Filed under: Autumn is feeling...,Keep Calm and Carry On!,Pondering Life,Prayer
I just had a mini-meltdown! Thankfully, of the interior kind, I don’t do big exaggerated displays of emotion around other people I am glad to say! But I heard some news at work this morning which floored me temporarily, and being on the verge of tears, I simply grabbed my handbag, having responded to a colleague’s “are you ok” with a “no, I’m so not ok!”, and left the building, went and found a quiet spot and took some deep breaths and threw up a handful of frustrated prayers. Half an hour and a bar of chocolate later, I’m back on an even keel, and determined to face this problem as stoically as I know I can. Not easy, but do-able.
There was a time when I was a bit of a drama-queen. Faith has gradually, over the years, surgically removed that part of my personality, I am happy and rather surprised to say. I used to think the advert which said “don’t make a drama out of a crisis” was based on yours truly, and it is a most wondrous thing to be able to roll with the punches. I am in a not ideal situation in many ways, but all I can do is to work with the little I have been given and see how it pans out. Stomping and shouting and having a tantrum isn’t going to change things one jot, and besides, you look really, really silly having a tantrum at the age of 48!
I read a lot of twaddle in various places, mostly from feminists, about reclaiming our anger, and stropping with pride, letting rip, unchaining the beast of anger inside us instead of being a good little girl. Can you imagine if women went about their daily lives roaring in such a way, allowing destructive anger to overflow and touch everyone around them.
If we pray at such times, and surrender our anger to God He transforms it, and gives it back to us as something different, perhaps as the impetus to make changes, or to act on someone’s behalf, or to right an injustice. That doesn’t mean we can’t express our anger in God’s presence, He is big enough to take it, but we need to choose the tools we use wisely, so that others around us aren’t damaged.
I always think of Saint Peter’s words in times like this: “rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God.” (1 Peter 3:4) Our ability to deal with crises in a quiet and gentle manner will be a far greater witness to our faith than blowing up and richoceting around the room! But it is a gift of Grace which only God can give us, and I am thankful for God’s healing Grace in my life today!
I thought a cow coffee cup might be apt, seeing as I am in a “ruminative” mood! Doesn’t do any harm to ponder and chew the cud every now and then. I feel rather pensive and thoughtful this morning, and find myself mulling over my life, as one does…
A couple of things have sparked this off, one being the fact that the last couple of weeks, I have experienced God in my life in ways which have felt powerful and refreshing. I don’t go chasing here and there looking for experiences of God! I have had enough dry and dark night experiences to know now that feelings have very little to do with faith, but when they come out of the blue, they are a blessing to be grasped with both hands. I find I desire to pray more, to read Scripture and learn more about the character of God, to attend Mass. I have been aware lately of His presence at my shoulder, the breath of the Holy Spirit gently breathing on my neck, and sometimes a real sense of being somehow enfolded, held, embraced by Jesus accompanied by a real sense of peace and a relaxing into His arms. It won’t always be this way, I know, but while it is I want to store up the feelings and memories, so I can look back on them in dry times.
Life is still busy, and I am often tired (is that just the norm for women of a certain age?! 
) I keep thinking next week I’ll feel less tired, but next week comes and it’s full to the brim of work, family, household management etc. etc. and I never seem to get any more energy! But I’m not moaning as long as I have enough for the day! And there are built-in oases, such as my weekend away last week, which do recharge the batteries and set me up for the next long haul. My immediate family do demand a great deal of my resources, often to the neglect of my wider family (I barely seem to have time for my sisters, and have never had an awful lot of contact with my parents ~ something which I feel I should remedy, but it’s difficult and a little painful) To be honest, my wider family play little part in my life, nor I in theirs. Things have happened over the years, family has moved apart, lost touch, got back together, lost touch again, and I feel two steps removed from most of them. My immediate family on the other hand…well, I’m sure you know, husband, daughters and grandchildren are my life and they get 90% of me!
The one other thing that’s on my mind is Church…not the Catholic Church per se, although I do sometimes struggle with what I see/hear/read. I would like our dear Pope to make some radical changes as regards the Mass. As I said in my last post, I would dearly love there to be a TLM in every parish, but count myself blessed that there is one in the neighbouring parish, albeit only once a month, thanks to the Latin Mass Society. I have reached the point, after sticking with my own parish for the last few months, of realising that although I know I receive Jesus through the Blessed sacrament and that will always be precious to me, the setting of the NO Mass just doesn’t do Him justice! Try as I might to really connect with the reverence of the occasion (the bread and wine if being transformed, by the power of the Holy Spirit, into the REAL body and the REAL blood of Jesus Christ: Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity!) I find the ordinary form to be too lightweight. It’s like comparing cheese and crackers to a joint of roast beef, eaten to the bone and with the marrow sucked out. Cheese and crackers can and will sustain you for quite a long time, but they won’t satisfy in the same way. Going to the TLM yesterday was the full roast dinner, it is superior, I would be lying if I said I thought otherwise.
*Phew* perhaps rather too ruminative for a Monday morning, but there you go. I pray you all have a blessed week, and are aware of the presence of God in it.
The altar, after Mass yesterday, Ad Orientem.
