tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91346848589566176692024-03-05T04:16:35.299-05:00At The End of the Day...Reflections on what's really important.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-77019717091945672016-09-11T19:30:00.000-04:002016-09-11T19:50:54.892-04:00The Cosmos ~ It's All Mystery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here in our community, a couple of years ago, we watched the wonderful presentation on TV, "Cosmos" and found ourselves always more in awe!</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid6UfYDcZmthV05lyF8xuQN3PS8AXV6kGQ5quqEOnD2cHVwo6tmCvZhCiqjYzzK-lllIXpZlcBEsXiRk-gUHsmseSduXmEMlfdbtcrEWI-PCoUV4rA5dxsa34mJRcoWjTv_YpZLJzHTIlG/s1600/Dominic+Crossan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid6UfYDcZmthV05lyF8xuQN3PS8AXV6kGQ5quqEOnD2cHVwo6tmCvZhCiqjYzzK-lllIXpZlcBEsXiRk-gUHsmseSduXmEMlfdbtcrEWI-PCoUV4rA5dxsa34mJRcoWjTv_YpZLJzHTIlG/s1600/Dominic+Crossan.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When I listen to the little-box people argue that science must fit into their religious understanding, their theology of scriptures in the Bible, I lose almost all patience. Science discovers, and theology makes sense of it. NOT the other way around! God can't be expected to fit into the limited human understanding or theology of any reading of the sacred stories intended to help us consider God. Where comes this need to limit God and reality? Why this need of black and white clarity on theological matters that are ultimately impossible for us grasp? It seems like an insecure need to control, in a way to play god by claiming to know it all. That is surely not honoring the Unknowable, surely not about love either.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Science is the language of the Big Book of Creation, and it is not opposed to the Little Book, the more recent book. It's up to us to understand the lessons being taught in light of what we can see and determine in the physical world--this beautiful world. In my opinion, that is how we honor God, not by stuffing God into a box, and ignoring everything that does not "match up" to our limited, set-in-stone theology. We need an ever-expanding theology to try to honor the infinite Mystery. Deflate the ego a bit folks, rest in peace, and rediscover awe.</span></span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/NjSFR40SY58?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> <b>Try stuffing this in your tiny box!</b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This song is in honor of the wonderful show Cosmos and all we are learning today. Set to Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">"COSMOS HALLELUJAH!"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We look above, we look below</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We search within our highs and lows</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And wonder if you do exist now, do You?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Some want You to be Puppet King</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Controlling each and everything</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Instead, we sing a humble Hallelujah!</span></span></div>
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Hallelujah, Hallelujah<br />
Hallelujah, Hallelujah</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Cosmos we may understand</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And come to recognize Your hand</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yet dare we never claim we really knew You!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">To think a story captures all—</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our pride that comes before our fall</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just let creation sing its Hallelujah!</span></span></div>
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Hallelujah, Hallelujah<br />
Hallelujah, Hallelujah</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A tiny god kept under locks</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In our own image, in a box,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Proclaiming all the while devotion to You.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Your stories meant to transform us</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">To help remember what we must</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Have blinded us and muffled Hallelujah!</span></span></div>
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Hallelujah, Hallelujah<br />
Hallelujah, Hallelujah</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Your Spirit groans within, without</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Inspires minds to look about </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And marvel, living in, and with, and through You.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The little mind will try to bind</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rather than to seek and find You</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In this mystery we call Hallelujah!</span></span></div>
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Hallelujah, Hallelujah<br />
Hallelujah, Hallelujah</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As scientists explore this world</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Religious mysteries are unfurled</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yet deeper still the love that we give to You.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As everything we’re learning now</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Compels us more to deeply bow</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And let release an awe-filled Hallelujah!</span></span></div>
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Hallelujah, Hallelujah<br />
Hallelujah, Hallelujah</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">All creation sings Your praise</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Cosmos, in such wondrous ways</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Is telling secrets—that we hardly knew You.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The beating of Your heart about</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Is sensed within and
heard without</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">With every new discovery, Hallelujah!</span></span></div>
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Hallelujah, Hallelujah<br />
Hallelujah, Hallelujah</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The little book of stories told</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The picture book that we behold</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Combine that we might know we’re closer to You</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Eye has not seen, nor has ear heard</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The glory of the Eternal Word</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our minds have not yet grasped that Hallelujah!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hallelujah, Hallelujah<br />
Hallelujah, Hallelujah</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Words c. 2014 Cait Finnegan)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yes, it's a wonder, dear God! Thank you. Good night.</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-15718670442357100892014-11-25T21:58:00.000-05:002014-11-27T16:49:12.056-05:00It's All About GratitudeThis is a busy week in many American homes. Whether poor or rich, most Americans take this week to prepare for that special secular, but secretly spiritual, holiday we call Thanksgiving Day. Kids are off from school, turkeys are murdered by the million, cranberries become delicious, sugar or some substitute is added to a multitude of dishes that become immediately addictive, and many families gather, whether everyone is talking with one another or not, just because it's what we do. Many do, anyway. Others gather with groups of friends who are more family than blood relations could ever be. Some gather with neighbors, or with strangers in Churches or soup kitchens. The gathering together seems to be what is most relished, even more than that wonderful pumpkin pie with which that particularly good baker in each family may grace the table! <br />
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Some gather only in their memories, with loved ones who have passed on, with the joys of bygone holidays, and are either lonely or content as they process their grief in life. Others gather with nobody, alone in their illness, lonliness, grief, or sometimes bitterness, sometimes by happenstance, sometimes by choice. Then there are those whose choices come back on days like this to bite them in the ass. Choices which land them in prison... or isolated by bitterness, nastiness, or narcissism,<br />
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Whatever the way the day is commemorated there is much to consider if we allow the purpose of the day to affect us, challenge us, and even comfort us. On the sunny days of life we can all come up with answers to what blesses our lives. We can think of the friends, homes, vacations, toys and goodies for all ages... On the gloomy days of life we might muster a miserable thank you for at least being alive. That might be a challenge for some, and I realize that. Thanksgiving Day is our human way of saying that regardless of the ups and downs of moods, the stock market, love affairs, births, deaths, and ice cream sundaes, calories, grades, salaries, and even self-esteem, we really need to remember to be grateful in life.<br />
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A few months ago I wrote a blog about the series COSMOS, and shared a song I'd written in response to that series, and the science we are all learning today. It flowed from a profound sense of humility and gratitude that I felt. It was that humility Carl Sagan stirred in us in his famous commentary about the pale blue dot. Thanksgiving this year stirs some of the same feelings for me of humility and gratitude to be alive in this wondrous creation, with choices and abilities, and the blessings of family and friends, of Church community, of my Faith in Christ.<br />
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I just thought of another reference that captures that feeling, and it is from a beautiful show I watched often with our daughter Rose when she was a little girl, and many times throughout the years since. It is called "The Last Unicorn" and its focus is on hope and gratitude! The unicorn has long represented Christ, and it is easy to see the reference in that movie, and certainly in the theme song.<br />
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I'm alive! I am grateful, not only for my life, but for the lives of all those I cherish, those whose lives are shared here with me still, my beautiful husband and best friend, Joe and our precious treasure, our daughter Rose! For my many feathered and furry family members who enrich my soul and reflect their Maker with each look or lick. I am grateful for my extended family and how good they are--credits to my brothers and sisters in law who have raised wonderful children to be wonderful adults. Grateful their lives are shared with love. I am grateful that our Pocono community is safe (and quiet) once again after being under a near-lockdown for so long with the recent manhunt. I am grateful for the members of my religious community and the <a href="http://www.celticchristianchurch.org/" target="_blank">Celtic Christian Church</a>. I am grateful for the fine men and women who are dedicating themselves to building up <a href="http://www.whithorn.org/" target="_blank">Whithorn School of Theology</a> to help enrich the lives of others. <br />
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Yes, at the end of the day it's all about gratitude. So, come on snow storm! You don't scare me. You may cause us to celebrate here at home rather than join the extended family, but you don't scare me because nothing can separate those who are bound by ties of love. For this I am so grateful this Thanksgiving.<br />
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God bless us all.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-68385285294666285652014-04-11T23:41:00.001-04:002014-04-11T23:41:09.758-04:00We Sometimes Hear GoodbyeThis has been a painful week for me. I feel as though I were punched in the gut. Have you ever had that kind of "surprise" or shock? The kind that is more like a bomb dropping than a pleasant unexpected event! I think most people have. Doesn't matter though, because when you go through it, somehow if feels like nobody else ever has--or should. This week someone else did though. Someone I love deeply. I felt the pain, but so did my gentle husband, a holy man, accused not quite non-verbally as much as indirectly of heresies! Being a holy man, charitable, and far more spiritually mature than I, he handles such personal pain far better than I. So, always, and now again, I learn from him. But I need to learn slowly because I'm too Irish and have to get the fight out of my gut before I settle down to let Grace do it's healing.<br />
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Feelings of betrayal are difficult to process. I've felt the feelings, and I wasn't sure what to think. I couldn't think, really. I could only feel. Feel and wonder. That was only the beginning. Emotions have a life cycle of their own, and hurt leads to frustration, then to anger, then what? Feeling sad and worn out. They lead on to reevaluating relationships and boundaries, trust and self-preservation. That all translates into one question for me: What do I do about hospitality? Hospitality is the sacred tradition my parents passed to me spiritually, and ritually/practically. It is a sacred Celtic tradition, but the plain fact is it sometimes gets taken for granted by guests of the heart. The only way to avoid it completely is to shut the door, something foreign to me. Something lamentable to me. Unthinkable.<br />
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Betrayal is felt when one opens not only the door to one's home, but more profoundly when one opens the door to one's heart, welcoming another in, as family, as friend, as a trusted other, only one day, down the road, to discover all the conversations were shallow, disingenuous and words ultimately meaningless because they were untrue. Betrayal. It's comes in different forms, and arrives by word of mouth or action, directly or indirectly. <br />
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So what? What do you do with it, about it, when it happens? I'm still learning. After the hurt and anger came the wonder, and now I'm thinking more clearly. It takes time to process reality when reality sucks. The bottom line, at the end of the day, is that some people use people. Some do it unconsciously, unintentionally, only to survive periods of loneliness between relationships that they ultimately destroy, or find such fault with them they need to run away... They find a hideout with some schmuck bleeding heart like me. Then move on to the next adventure.<br />
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At the end of the day we all need to take stock and learn from the various relationships in our lives. We learn about love from the good ones, and we learn about the need for healthy discernment from the abusive or painful ones...learn to be more careful and have our boundaries securely in place so that a healthy spiritual detachment allows us to remain in peace should we sometimes hear "Goodbye." At the end of the day, life goes on, and I grow stronger. What choice is there?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-28727915063297510992013-08-24T00:00:00.000-04:002014-05-11T03:01:55.959-04:00We give -- Buiachas Le Dia! Thanks to God! <div class="blogContent">
Today I’m celebrating my feast day! <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">The feast of St. Patrick.</span><br />
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He was the cause of the first serious argument, and act of rebellion I had as a youth with my mother. I was given a tremendous love of my Irish heritage and the Faith passed to me by my parents and grandmother grows deeper each day of my life. At the age of 12, however, I don’t think my mom realized how very serious I was about my religious choices.<br />
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In May it was normal for 6th graders in our school to be confirmed in the Faith. Looking back now, from this old age, I realize most kids that age don’t have a clue about what it truly means, and I’m grateful we gave our daughter Rose the choice to be confirmed or to wait when her turn arrived at a similar age. Although I believe Rose was a graced child, and was ready to make such a step, she herself decided to wait. Then during her college years, she was confirmed in Boston, in the middle of the worst scandals in US Church history! I admire that kind of Faith in Jesus!<br />
<br />
When it was my turn, there were no choices given. We were trained, sometimes well, and ushered down the aisle to the bishop who gently smacked us upside the head and our faith was confirmed. Mine truly was. I too was a child of grace, gifted with a love I thought everyone had, presumed everyone had for God! God was my friend, my companion, my buddy, my God! Always together, never apart. Of course I longed to be confirmed. There was no thought of anything else.<br />
<br />
The problem was not one of faith in our home, but one of tradition (not the big "T" Tradition, but the little human "t" tradition). What name to take? My father had taken Aloysius for his confirmation name (God only knows why). So, when my oldest brother was born, he was named after our father, then when his confirmation came around, he too took Aloysius--after our father. When my turn came, I, who had been named after my mother and Catherine of Siena, was expected to take my mother’s confirmation name, Mary.<br />
<br />
My first battle was over the mother of God and St. Patrick! You know it’s a Catholic family with that kind of turmoil! I announced that I was taking Patricia for my name after St. Patrick, because I admired him (from having read his biography, and from hearing about him all my life from my beloved Irish grandmother). My mother was hurt. I never realized that she was more hurt than angry, until years later. But it came across as anger to me then, and I dug my heels of faith in and stood my ground. This was, after all to be my name forever into eternity! This was my choice to follow the steps of a particular saint. I wanted to be a saint, like Catherine of Siena, and now to follow in Patrick’s steps of sharing the good news of Jesus to others. That seemed like what we were told to do in religion class. The good sisters never mentioned taking our parents’ names, but the names of saints we admired. (uh, it must be made clear here that I admire Mary the mother of Jesus Christ...never let it be said otherwise, but I had this love for Patrick, or what I knew of him then.)<br />
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Anyway, my mother figured I’d obey her and take Mary, and didn’t know until I came back from the bishop, in profound tears of joy and love of God, that I’d indeed taken Patrick as my patron.<br />
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Years later, Rose made her choice in Boston, and was confirmed. We went to Boston to celebrate this day with her, and with her friends. I never thought to ask her what name she took if any (I’d heard some didn’t add names these days). As we were walking to the restaurant after the ceremony I asked if she took a name. She said yes. What was it? She looked at me and said "Patricia!"<br />
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Suddenly, I understood how my own mother felt. I never expected Rose to take the name I had taken. I had not even thought of names until that very moment. Yet, when she said that I felt the bond that my own mother wanted with me. I guess it’s that human thing that gets in the way so often, the emotions that motivate some of our hopes and decisions. My mother wanted us to share those names. She meant no harm, no pride at all, just a desire to share that bond that a name holds for parents and children within certain traditions. I suddenly felt a sorrow that I somehow hurt my mother (who had died only a few months prior to Rose’s Confirmation Day). It was part of my grief, I guess. I felt happy that Rose took Patricia. We’d named her Rose Catherine, and both names after me (no, I’m not explaining the Rose part now...). I was happy to pass Catherine of Siena along to her as her patron saint--a very strong woman of Faith. Now she too had Patrick. Did she take it for Patrick? Or for me? I don’t know.<br />
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But, I matured a bit more that day, and understood my own mother a bit more that day. Our children unwittingly teach us so much about ourselves, and our parents when we are parents. So St. Patrick’s Day is my feast day, and Rose’s feast day. The fact that it falls during Holy Week doesn’t change that one bit. We are happy today. We celebrate our heritage, our Faith, our family bonds, and those grandparents we knew and never knew who passed this Irish thing to us that we love so much. We celebrate.<br />
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Theologically I think I might differ with Pat today. Not certain. But today, that doesn’t matter much. Today it’s a celebration of our Faith, and our Family!<br />
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Thanks for bringing Christ to our people Patrick! Party on!<br />
<br />
Cait<br />
<br />
"Celtic Soul Song"<br />
<br />
Our people were pagan until we met Christ.<br />
We recognized Him from the start.<br />
Never a martyr was made at our hands<br />
For Christ was in the Irish heart.<br />
<br />
And His message of Good News that God loved the world<br />
was something we always believed<br />
for we knew well God’s Spirit in nature and life,<br />
and it showed in the circles we weaved.<br />
<br />
We knew of the other world all around us<br />
such spiritual people were we<br />
who hungered so deeply for life and for love<br />
outraged it was nailed to a tree!<br />
<br />
As Conor MacNessa first led the way<br />
defending Christ unto his death,<br />
our people have faithfully recognized Him,<br />
calling Him with their last breath.<br />
<br />
But the old pagan ways and the gods that we knew<br />
continued along by Christ’s side,<br />
called by a new name given by Rome.<br />
It is not from Christ that they hide,<br />
<br />
But from those who dare to speak in His Name,<br />
conquering culture and lore,<br />
proclaiming that Christ would have it that way,<br />
destroying all that came before.<br />
<br />
But free Celtic spirits knew that in Christ<br />
there is neither male nor female,<br />
and threatened the power that sought to control<br />
the mind, heart and soul of the Gael.<br />
<br />
And ’tho they have died for Christ through these years,<br />
their spirit submitted to Rome,<br />
their passion subdued by Jansenist lies<br />
invading their Faith and their home.<br />
<br />
’tho many a priestly priest came from our land<br />
and they had the power, we know.<br />
That power was Love, God’s very own.<br />
(For others it just wasn’t so.)<br />
<br />
For others the priesthood was not to serve God<br />
and not to bring Grace to the soul.<br />
With goodwill we trusted and honoured them all.<br />
Their power was meant to control.<br />
<br />
Yet still we are Irish and still our souls yearn<br />
for that spiritual part in our lives.<br />
Abused and afflicted, like Christ we were led,<br />
as children and husbands and wives.<br />
<br />
Obeying the laws, tho they were not our own<br />
but placed upon us from outside,<br />
we trusted their goodwill and trusted their vows<br />
until we discovered they lied.<br />
<br />
We look deep within now still knowing the Love<br />
of that God who is greater than Rome,<br />
to the God of our people, the God of our clan,<br />
the God of our family and home.<br />
<br />
The misuse of power, that we trusted so,<br />
as quietly we bore our cross!<br />
Exposed now for what it was, treachery, sin!<br />
Our clear vision now is Rome’s loss.<br />
<br />
But surely it was not Christ who did wrong<br />
nor priests humbly serving our land,<br />
but those filled with lust of power o’er us.<br />
Satanical, clerical band!<br />
<br />
Our impulse toward God will guide us as we<br />
continue to seek the Divine.<br />
We’ll see God in nature, in people and song<br />
as clearly as in bread and wine.<br />
<br />
And the ancient soul friends who’ve never left us,<br />
who’ve always been here in our land<br />
Daghdha and Bridget and from Tir na nOg<br />
with Jesus they walk hand in hand.<br />
<br />
Forget not our heritage and whence we came!<br />
And honour the heart of the Celt.<br />
We must be respected in Church as in home,<br />
For before Rome knew Christ, we knelt.<br />
<br />
T’was never a time that we did not know God,<br />
regardless the titles we use.<br />
And we welcomed the Truth, whatever the form.<br />
The true God would never abuse!<br />
<br />
So we hold fast to God as we always have,<br />
as Pagan or Christian or Jew,<br />
and take back the power that we gave to Rome.<br />
Oh God, if only we knew....<br />
<br />
<br />
Copyright 1995 Cáit Finnegan</div>
<a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=210746017&blogID=367682979&Mytoken=E3435E48-9EF3-4601-83EC6C0AD21E568B40436249"><b> 2:50 PM </b></a> - <a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=210746017&blogID=367682979&Mytoken=E3435E48-9EF3-4601-83EC6C0AD21E568B40436249"><b>0 Comments</b></a> - Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-34033120604590460492013-08-23T23:59:00.001-04:002013-08-23T23:59:59.508-04:00There is Renewed LifeMy last blog <i>here</i> was in April of 2009. I was then 58 years old, or almost. I am now 62, and much more content. Funny, how that is so. My last blog here was about dealing with the loss of our store, and remembering what's important. Now, over 4 years later, at the end of the day, I cling to what is important more than ever.<br />
<br />
A great deal happens in people's lives over the course of 4 years. Good things and less good. Happy and sad. There are highs and lows. At the end of the day, we either learn from it all, or live our lives wasting time waiting to die. That becomes more real as we age! Well, I'm determined to cling to joy even when troubled by challenges or sorrow. Joy goes beyond sorrow to focus on what I believe, what is really real to me...what is eternal, and that, I believe is Love.<br />
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These years have been and continue to be a time of fine-tuning our lives. Retired from full-time work, we have deliberately chosen a quiet life of prayer. We've welcomed into our house of prayer one of our sisters from the religious order to which I belong (<a href="http://www.orderofthemercifulchrist.org/" target="_blank">The Order of the Merciful Christ</a>), and living in intentional community brings my husband, Joe, and me full circle in life. We each began our adult lives as religious, and now, at the end of the day, we recognize our lives have <i>always</i> been lived as such, with marriage, family, and work. St Francis created his Third Order for people like us. The early Celtic Church with its model of monastic life was open to house Church as well as male/female monastic houses, and that indeed is what we have lived since our marriage. Growing old in our house Church, as religious, is comfortable for us, is who we are. <br />
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Tomorrow I am going with Joe, to look at a location to reopen our little shop, not as a huge store, but as a small shop within a community market. Many vendors there have gone through what we experienced, closed shops and life changes. We've considered this before, but have not made the leap. We may decide not to now, again. However, we are open to the movement of the Spirit within us, the Spirit <i>in</i> Whom we live, move, and have our being. That is an exciting place to be spiritually--open to the guidance of the Spirit. Finding our peace after the storm of closing our shop by taking time apart to pray, and plan, and find our current form of community and ministry has given us some renewed spiritual energy, even as we've aged, and juggle the physical limitations we now have. At the end of the day life in this physical realm, you know, is brief and sacred. We embrace it, and live. Where there is life, there is hope, and we believe in life eternal!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-34549317943594176752009-04-17T22:58:00.000-04:002009-04-17T23:24:17.285-04:00Only What is Really Important is Really ImportantI let this blog hang for the last year. I didn't care... I didn't want to think about how much I was feeling hurt by the particulars in our lives that ended up destroying our little business in East Stroudsburg. Those who destroyed us didn't care! They still don't care. But, hey, I got over it! At the end of the day we either have to get over it or let it beat us into the ground. I'm not ready for that yet.<br /><br />As those who know us already know, our brick and mortar store closed last Fall. Local priests were told to remove our store ads from their parish bulletins (some did), and my husband was accused of impersonating a Roman Catholic priest! (Slander is an awful thing coming from religious and clergy.) It goes to show how little of Church history is known by those who SHOULD know it! Joe's a priest, <span style="font-style: italic;">but not a RC priest,</span> and why anyone would want to impersonate one is beyond me! But, there are those who think he ought to be punished for serving as a Celtic Christian priest (Independent Old Catholic)! Oh well, they lost the most in that nasty little attempt to destroy our business of selling religious books and gifts! They lost far more than we. Sad, really.<br /><br />Yes, we are building the online store up even more, but it's taking a long time. EVERY bit of inventory from our three room shop is piled in our home! So, little by little we are sorting our way through it all, trying to find LIVING ROOM, make some order and get ready to sell it online and in the local flea market (within the month). What a challenge!<br /><br />Yet, I've come to accept that it has only been that--a challenge. The greatest challenge in one sense--the challenge to love and forgive. And it's a challenge to discover the difference between forgiveness and being stupid enough to ever expect anything different from particular individuals and populations. However, it is NOT the end of the world, and it is not the end of our Rose of Sharon! So much has been slowed by my lack of energy and my personal disabilities. My radio shows have slowed and I'm canceling two of them and keeping two--the ones that are most important to me, <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.blogtalkradio.com/theismnetwork">The Independent Catholic</a>, and <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.blogtalkradio.com/theroseofsharon">SpiritualiTEA</a>. <br /><br />And in the midst of all this we are expanding our ministry of <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.goodtidingsministry.org">Good Tidings</a> to those sexually abused by clergy to include other populations. The fact that this is a necessary ministry is heartbreaking, but too real. We've worked for 26 years with one population and now we are expanding that to others, abused as children or youth as well. In addition, we're working with another spiritual director and reaching out to those who are physically disabled, left to the side too often, who are seeking spiritual direction. <span style="font-weight: bold;">SOLACE</span> is what we hope to bring in Christ's Name.<br /><br />At the end of the day, only what is really important is really important. So, I thank God for reminding me of that, and what it is that<span style="font-style: italic;"> is</span> so important--vital, and that is God's Love for each of us. That's what I'm recommitting myself to in this life, just sharing that Good Tidings of great joy! We are loved. There is no reason to hurt others in God's Name!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-73319191949634480982008-04-04T02:54:00.000-04:002014-05-11T03:32:07.603-04:00We Await the Dawn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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April 4, 2008 - Friday </div>
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This week, much like the past several months, has been very difficult for my husband and me. The little store we have, a small ecumenical religious shop, is on its last legs--humanly speaking. From a human perspective, the store is a business failure. From a ministerial perspective, the store has been a blessing, and countless people have told me so. We began this store just 2 years ago, and our approach, believing we were hearing and following God’s lead, was "Failure is NOT an option!" Both Joe and I thought about that today, and he brought it up at lunch. Is it a "failure?"</div>
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At this point I expect we will have to close our little shop this month. I will mourn it because of the good people I will not see again. Yes, we will keep in touch with some, but most we will not see again. But is it a failure? If it is, it is only financially. The good people who came to our little store to shop for family and friends, to give gifts to express their love and share their faith made our shop a blessed success! If it is God’s Will that we close now, to try to save our home, then, AMEN. We are behind in many bills. We spent the Winter without heat in our home, and this week the electric company turned off our service at the store, leaving me sitting there in total darkness.<br /><br />I prayed with the psalmist: "even darkness is not dark for You, and the night is as clear as the day, for it was You Who created me and formed me in my mother’s womb." And yet, I was angry! I quickly realized it was NOT the electric company with whom I was angry. That was a just debt. I was angry with the Roman Catholic pastor who went out of his way to kick the shovel out of our hands! I was angry at the Roman Catholic priest who slandered my husband Joe, saying that he was impersonating a priest!!! Geez, even by Roman Catholic canon law Joe IS a priest FOREVER. How does one impersonate oneself? The fact is, Joe is a Celtic Christian priest, a bishop, serving in the Celtic Christian Church. If he had converted to the Episcopal Church this self-righteous pastor would not have DARED to say such things about Joe and his public ministry any more than he would publicly insult the FEMALE priests who serve in the Episcopal Churches in this area!<br /><br />This was not just innocent ignorance on the part of this Roman Catholic pastor--it was a deliberate vengeful attempt to destroy a 76 year old man’s livelihood! See how these Christians do not love one another! Our store being a religious shop, we depend almost entirely upon advertising. The logical place to advertise has been in the local Church bulletins. When this Roman Catholic pastor saw our ad in his church bulletin, he called the local RC priests and told them to get our ad out of their parish bulletins. Most ignored him. Many sent parishioners to our shop!! One can only guess most of them have his number, and just ignore him. However, he and the local pastor both removed our weekly ads, and put a mortal dent in our business, by not allowing local Roman Catholics to know we are here, a dent that has brought us to this point in time--the point of closing our doors and local ministry, or continuing to wait for a miracle. Joe and I have great Faith--but we will not tempt God!<br /><br />I am not a particularly good person. I pray every day for this nasty priest, and beg the Holy Spirit to touch his heart before he dies--which will be soon. I have been privy to stories that are far nastier than this, where he has deeply hurt others. Indeed, Joe has picked up more than his share of the pieces of wounded persons that this priest has left in his wake! But I’m not a particularly good person because I sat in the darkened store angrier than I have been in a very, very long time. If it were not for Jesus Christ cramping my style, I would destroy this priest. Yeah, the street kid in me was ready to rumble. How easy it would be to destroy him. Then that scripture comes drifting through my mind...what profit to gain the world and lose my soul? By allowing myself not to love him--not to pray for his soul, but to go out of my way to harm him I would destroy my own soul! Well, Jesus, when You put it that way, You leave me little choice...(mumbling to self)<br /><br />God is God. I will do no harm. However, I will speak the truth of what I have experienced as bigotry toward us, especially toward Joe as a former Roman Catholic priest--now a Celtic Christian priest. Sustained and deliberate bigotry and slander intended to harm him, us--and primarily from Roman Catholic priests, and holier-than-thou religious whose gross ignorance of Church (i.e. CHRISTIAN) history is so extensive as to leave an echo in their heads when they hear the facts of history spoken, explained. OH, pardon me, you’ve never heard of "OLD CATHOLICS?" NO, it doesn’t mean we’re Roman Catholics nearing 99 yrs of age...!! No! Sorry! Old Catholic is a Church Body--as in part of the Body of Christ, just like those Episcopals, Lutherans, Methodists, and Presbyterians you pray with at those ecumenical services--the ones where the Old Catholics are not even given the kiss of peace. Yeah, Old Catholics, that denomination with valid apostolic succession and sacraments--unlike those you pray with (according to your own laws, that is).<br /><br />I will speak about the intentional bigotry of priests and religious who have great nerve pointing fingers at ANY other Church body in this day and age! Shame on you! We will continue to pick up the pieces of those whose spiritual lives you harm or destroy without giving it a second thought, the youth humiliated, and adults insulted by you. Oh Father, SHAME ON YOU! Shame on you for kicking the shovel out of an aging brother priest’s hands. I do pray the Holy Spirit touch your heart, turning a heart of stone to a heart of flesh. However, until then, what is done in the dark (of a cold dark heart) will be seen in the Light.<br /><br />At the end of the day, we await the Dawn. Christ is our Dawn. I pray you live to see the Dawn in this life, in the land of the living. That is the best I can do right now, just pray for you, and pray you stop hurting people. Yeah, I’m still angry, like a Mama Bear. "Don’t mess with my family" I want to roar. I guess I’ve done that here... I hope you folks NEVER meet this Roman Catholic pastor in question.<br /><br />Anyway, this has all come at the very time I’ve pulled together an Internet Talk Radio Show called: "The Independent Catholic." On the show we will discuss the various Independent Old Catholic Churches in the USA and other countries. We will bring on the bishops and members of these Churches and introduce them to our listeners. Many have suffered far more from powerful Church denominations and their clergy and hierarchy than we have from our petty clerical neighbor. All that will be made known. But more importantly, we will focus on the ministries and service done by so many--without the support and the public forum of mega-Church institutional structures. The Independent Catholic! You can tune in and listen, or call in and participate at:</div>
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<br />The first show will air on <span style="color: #ff6600; font-weight: bold;">Monday night April 7th, at 11 PM US Eastern Time</span><span style="color: #ff6600;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">, and will be on each Monday thereafter</span>.</span> If you can’t listen that late, you will be able to download segments from our BlogRadio website or as podcasts from iTunes.<br /><br />OK, I’ve vented. I feel a lot better now. Now I will try to be a better person! Pray for me, please, cause it ain’t easy!<br /><br />Cait</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-1171957057860344942008-03-20T00:54:00.000-04:002014-05-11T03:21:46.784-04:00We Stood Together for Peace<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="blog" style="width: 100%px;"><tbody>
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<a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.viewCategory&FriendID=210746017&BlogCategoryID=17"></a>Today passed much like any other day for me. I went to work, opened the shop and talked with people who came in. Great people. Today was not different than most other days. Yet today was the 5th anniversary of the United States invading Iraq.<br /><br />I’ve never been really interested in politics. Never kept up with it, even when it was important to do so. I’m not proud of that part. It always seemed beyond my own scope, somehow. But these recent years are different. Maybe it’s because I’m older. Life becomes so valuable as one ages and watches the ones we love pass on to the next life. Faith gets us through that, if we are people of Faith. If not, I have no idea how people deal with the death of loved ones.<br /><br />Death has made me much more sensitive and appreciative of life. I value it now, more than ever. Part of that is coming to terms with death, and preparing for my own as much as possible, again in the context of my deep Faith that life changes but does not end.<br /><br />However, while we are here, it is precious, and no life is less precious than another. None. The horror of war is evil enough when unavoidable, but when it happens because of lies and greed it is difficult to wrap my mind around it. When businesses have more to say about our nation’s foreign policies than elected officials and the voters, and unelected officials ignore voters, and elected officials give the power of war away to a "king" as has happened, I find I can’t ignore national politics any longer, and must be aware, much more aware than ever. It’s become a moral imperative for me. Why? Well, today I read the current figure, 5 years into the war, that <span style="color: red; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">3,990 of our military have been killed for this greed</span>, obeying in sincerity the greedy who have gotten us into this disgraceful moment of history. I also read today that <span style="color: red; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">1,189,000 + Iraqi civilians (that’s a million plus, folks) have been killed in this war</span>. One in four Iraqis are homeless now, displaced is the term used.<br /><br />It’s far away. For those of us who have nobody in the military or working with the military there it might be easy to forget. For those with loved ones there it is impossible. How long, I wonder, will we fool ourselves about all the reasons for this war? When will the nation demand accountability from our government, and especially our president/king? When will we have the courage to face the fact that this all has been based upon one lie after another?<br /><br />I don’t know the answers. Tonight I witnessed a few neighbors standing together in the rain on the corner of Main Street, Stroudsburg, with candles in hand remembering the dead. Where were all the others?? Where were those who want the war to end now? Who want the troops home but not in body bags? Where were they?<br /><br />It was raining on us tonight. I guess the rain made people stay home because I’m sure they don’t want more death and more body bags. It must have been the rain.<br /><br />Next year, on that anniversary, I hope there are a few more with us to speak out to the king! There will be a much larger number of dead.<br /><br /></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-48886000998328063822008-03-19T02:59:00.001-04:002008-03-19T02:59:58.341-04:00Barack Obama on Registering to Vote in PA<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/vI_m3UPpRRY' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/vI_m3UPpRRY'/></object></p><p>PA VOTERS...This is more than politics...this is about taking care of people in this country and around the world. </p></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-85680666167618695832008-03-19T02:41:00.001-04:002008-03-19T02:41:17.316-04:00Obama Speech: 'A More Perfect Union'<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/pWe7wTVbLUU' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/pWe7wTVbLUU'/></object></p><p>I am very encouraged by this speech.</p></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-68310335737099829352008-03-17T15:45:00.000-04:002008-03-17T15:48:31.222-04:00We give -- Buiachas Le Dia! Thanks to God!<p class="blogContent">Today I’m celebrating my feast day! <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">The feast of St. Patrick.</span><br /><br />He was the cause of the first serious argument, and act of rebellion I had as a youth with my mother. I was given a tremendous love of my Irish heritage and the Faith passed to me by my parents and grandmother grows deeper each day of my life. At the age of 12, however, I don’t think my mom realized how very serious I was about my religious choices.<br /><br />In May it was normal for 6th graders in our school to be confirmed in the Faith. Looking back now, from this old age, I realize most kids that age don’t have a clue about what it truly means, and I’m grateful we gave our daughter Rose the choice to be confirmed or to wait when her turn arrived at a similar age. Although I believe Rose was a graced child, and was ready to make such a step, she herself decided to wait. Then during her college years, she was confirmed in Boston, in the middle of the worst scandals in US Church history! I admire that kind of Faith in Jesus!<br /><br />When it was my turn, there were no choices given. We were trained, sometimes well, and ushered down the aisle to the bishop who gently smacked us upside the head and our faith was confirmed. Mine truly was. I too was a child of grace, gifted with a love I thought everyone had, presumed everyone had for God! God was my friend, my companion, my buddy, my God! Always together, never apart. Of course I longed to be confirmed. There was no thought of anything else.<br /><br />The problem was not one of faith in our home, but one of tradition (not the big "T" Tradition, but the little human "t" tradition). What name to take? My father had taken Aloysius for his confirmation name (God only knows why). So, when my oldest brother was born, he was named after our father, then when his confirmation came around, he too took Aloysius--after our father. When my turn came, I, who had been named after my mother and Catherine of Siena, was expected to take my mother’s confirmation name, Mary.<br /><br />My first battle was over the mother of God and St. Patrick! You know it’s a Catholic family with that kind of turmoil! I announced that I was taking Patricia for my name after St. Patrick, because I admired him (from having read his biography, and from hearing about him all my life from my beloved Irish grandmother). My mother was hurt. I never realized that she was more hurt than angry, until years later. But it came across as anger to me then, and I dug my heels of faith in and stood my ground. This was, after all to be my name forever into eternity! This was my choice to follow the steps of a particular saint. I wanted to be a saint, like Catherine of Siena, and now to follow in Patrick’s steps of sharing the good news of Jesus to others. That seemed like what we were told to do in religion class. The good sisters never mentioned taking our parents’ names, but the names of saints we admired. (uh, it must be made clear here that I admire Mary the mother of Jesus Christ...never let it be said otherwise, but I had this love for Patrick, or what I knew of him then.)<br /><br />Anyway, my mother figured I’d obey her and take Mary, and didn’t know until I came back from the bishop, in profound tears of joy and love of God, that I’d indeed taken Patrick as my patron.<br /><br />Years later, Rose made her choice in Boston, and was confirmed. We went to Boston to celebrate this day with her, and with her friends. I never thought to ask her what name she took if any (I’d heard some didn’t add names these days). As we were walking to the restaurant after the ceremony I asked if she took a name. She said yes. What was it? She looked at me and said "Patricia!"<br /><br />Suddenly, I understood how my own mother felt. I never expected Rose to take the name I had taken. I had not even thought of names until that very moment. Yet, when she said that I felt the bond that my own mother wanted with me. I guess it’s that human thing that gets in the way so often, the emotions that motivate some of our hopes and decisions. My mother wanted us to share those names. She meant no harm, no pride at all, just a desire to share that bond that a name holds for parents and children within certain traditions. I suddenly felt a sorrow that I somehow hurt my mother (who had died only a few months prior to Rose’s Confirmation Day). It was part of my grief, I guess. I felt happy that Rose took Patricia. We’d named her Rose Catherine, and both names after me (no, I’m not explaining the Rose part now...). I was happy to pass Catherine of Siena along to her as her patron saint--a very strong woman of Faith. Now she too had Patrick. Did she take it for Patrick? Or for me? I don’t know.<br /><br />But, I matured a bit more that day, and understood my own mother a bit more that day. Our children unwittingly teach us so much about ourselves, and our parents when we are parents. So St. Patrick’s Day is my feast day, and Rose’s feast day. The fact that it falls during Holy Week doesn’t change that one bit. We are happy today. We celebrate our heritage, our Faith, our family bonds, and those grandparents we knew and never knew who passed this Irish thing to us that we love so much. We celebrate.<br /><br />Theologically I think I might differ with Pat today. Not certain. But today, that doesn’t matter much. Today it’s a celebration of our Faith, and our Family!<br /><br />Thanks for bringing Christ to our people Patrick! Party on!<br /><br />Cait<br /><br />"Celtic Soul Song"<br /><br />Our people were pagan until we met Christ.<br />We recognized Him from the start.<br />Never a martyr was made at our hands<br />For Christ was in the Irish heart.<br /><br />And His message of Good News that God loved the world<br />was something we always believed<br />for we knew well God’s Spirit in nature and life,<br />and it showed in the circles we weaved.<br /><br />We knew of the other world all around us<br />such spiritual people were we<br />who hungered so deeply for life and for love<br />outraged it was nailed to a tree!<br /><br />As Conor MacNessa first led the way<br />defending Christ unto his death,<br />our people have faithfully recognized Him,<br />calling Him with their last breath.<br /><br />But the old pagan ways and the gods that we knew<br />continued along by Christ’s side,<br />called by a new name given by Rome.<br />It is not from Christ that they hide,<br /><br />But from those who dare to speak in His Name,<br />conquering culture and lore,<br />proclaiming that Christ would have it that way,<br />destroying all that came before.<br /><br />But free Celtic spirits knew that in Christ<br />there is neither male nor female,<br />and threatened the power that sought to control<br />the mind, heart and soul of the Gael.<br /><br />And ’tho they have died for Christ through these years,<br />their spirit submitted to Rome,<br />their passion subdued by Jansenist lies<br />invading their Faith and their home.<br /><br />’tho many a priestly priest came from our land<br />and they had the power, we know.<br />That power was Love, God’s very own.<br />(For others it just wasn’t so.)<br /><br />For others the priesthood was not to serve God<br />and not to bring Grace to the soul.<br />With goodwill we trusted and honoured them all.<br />Their power was meant to control.<br /><br />Yet still we are Irish and still our souls yearn<br />for that spiritual part in our lives.<br />Abused and afflicted, like Christ we were led,<br />as children and husbands and wives.<br /><br />Obeying the laws, tho they were not our own<br />but placed upon us from outside,<br />we trusted their goodwill and trusted their vows<br />until we discovered they lied.<br /><br />We look deep within now still knowing the Love<br />of that God who is greater than Rome,<br />to the God of our people, the God of our clan,<br />the God of our family and home.<br /><br />The misuse of power, that we trusted so,<br />as quietly we bore our cross!<br />Exposed now for what it was, treachery, sin!<br />Our clear vision now is Rome’s loss.<br /><br />But surely it was not Christ who did wrong<br />nor priests humbly serving our land,<br />but those filled with lust of power o’er us.<br />Satanical, clerical band!<br /><br />Our impulse toward God will guide us as we<br />continue to seek the Divine.<br />We’ll see God in nature, in people and song<br />as clearly as in bread and wine.<br /><br />And the ancient soul friends who’ve never left us,<br />who’ve always been here in our land<br />Daghdha and Bridget and from Tir na nOg<br />with Jesus they walk hand in hand.<br /><br />Forget not our heritage and whence we came!<br />And honour the heart of the Celt.<br />We must be respected in Church as in home,<br />For before Rome knew Christ, we knelt.<br /><br />T’was never a time that we did not know God,<br />regardless the titles we use.<br />And we welcomed the Truth, whatever the form.<br />The true God would never abuse!<br /><br />So we hold fast to God as we always have,<br />as Pagan or Christian or Jew,<br />and take back the power that we gave to Rome.<br />Oh God, if only we knew....<br /><br /><br />Copyright 1995 Cáit Finnegan</p> <a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=210746017&blogID=367682979&Mytoken=E3435E48-9EF3-4601-83EC6C0AD21E568B40436249"><b> 2:50 PM </b></a> - <a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=210746017&blogID=367682979&Mytoken=E3435E48-9EF3-4601-83EC6C0AD21E568B40436249"><b>0 Comments</b></a> -Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-31729404070711850592008-02-18T01:58:00.000-05:002008-02-18T01:59:14.198-05:00There is Always Another Day!Today I'm celebrating my grandmother's birthday. Her name was Nellie Farrell Daly. We all called her Nin, a nickname her first grandson, my oldest brother gave her. Nin turned 124 years old today! Amazing to imagine. I thought she was old when I was a kid. She's a lot older now. I figure, with the way we always celebrated her birthday while she was here with us on Earth, there's a hooley in heaven tonight! All of her children, and many of her grandchildren are with her, so I know they are celebrating her life and the gift she was and is to us, eternally.<br /><br />I used to think I would have her forever. What kid imagines losing a parent or grandparent, or sibling for that matter, until it finally happens? I've lost them all by now. My siblings died young (from my perspective anyway), in their 50's, and suddenly. My parents lived long lives. But my grandmother? She was born on February 17, 1884 and was buried on February 17, 1976. A sad way to celebrate that particular birthday it was. She was 92 that day, but had no cake, no candles. Only copious tears from all of us who loved her so much. I still miss her. She was like a second mom to me and taught me all about my heritage. She gave me Ireland. She gave me a great gift!<br /><br />It took me a few years before I could go to her grave. The first time I went was on my wedding day in 1980, to introduce her to my soon-to-be husband, and I guess ask her blessing. I was, after all, marrying a priest. I knew she blessed us. I knew it. Wasn't she the grandmother who wept when I entered the convent? Who went into mourning? Wasn't she the grandmother who struggled to her feet, on the day I left the convent, to grab my hands and dance a jig with me, joyful to have me home? Holiness, my father would say, was found in the family. She agreed! Nin did not want me to live in a convent. Of course she gave us her blessing! I married my husband knowing I had it, hers and my parents' blessings.<br /><br />Some think life ends with death. That there are no more days after that last breath. I do not believe that. I believe, with the Church, that death means life is changed, not ended. And so I believe that although I cannot see or hear the party tonight, I know it is going on, and will continue. Life is changed, not ended. At the end of the day...there is always another day. God is Love, and Love doesn't come to an end. We were created by that Love, and it is that Love that quickens us here, and leads us into our eternal life.<br /><br />Happy Birthday, Nin! Thank you for sharing your life and love with me. I love you forever.<br /><br />Your Cait<br /><br /><br />"The Memory of You"<br /><br />My heart warms within me when I think of the days<br />that we had together; how I loved all your ways<br />Your faith and your love of God each day you shared<br />and with tender affection you showed me you cared.<br />You taught me to sing and to laugh and to cry<br />and to always be happy and to reach for the sky.<br />Your songs and your stories we knew were all true<br />and they'll live forever in the memory of you.<br /><br />But your death, though expected, broke promises made:<br />that we'd go together and stand in the shade<br />of the Blood Red Rose Tree and O'Donnell Aboo.<br />Now these heroes of old are all standing with you.<br />And I envy those who are close by your side<br />but your presence is dear to me though you have died.<br />For our dreams, joys and plans for the things that we'd do<br />continue forever in the memory of you.<br /><br />There were days in my childhood when I cried bitter tears<br />as I learned Ireland's history and her scars through the years.<br />Then we'd bind up those wounds with a song and a smile;<br />you nourished me with love - but just for a while.<br />As the years flew and we knew - closer we became -<br />for Jesus was coming to call you by name.<br />And our hearts weaved together as you time was due<br />and I'll live forever with the memory of you.<br /><br />Now I stand by your grave and I fall to my knees<br />and I pray to our God and I beg Him: "Lord please<br />keep my mind on the thought of her being with You,<br />and not here below me but living anew.<br />O Lord strengthen the joy that she gave to me,<br />keep Irish eyes, smiling as she'd have it be."<br />I give thanks for those happy years, many - yet few,<br />and I live, Grandmother, with the memory of you.<br />My heart filled forever with the memory of you.<br /><br />copyright 1976 Cait Finnegan<br /><br />~~~~~~~~<br /><br />"I've Not Forgotten You"<br /><br />It's not that I've forgotten you<br />or put you from my mind.<br />It's not that I neglect to pray<br />or think from time to time.<br />Remembering the times we shared<br />and all the love we knew,<br />I sit at times alone in tears,<br />I've not forgotten you.<br /><br />But life goes on (as you well know).<br />I strive for what you've gained.<br />I live each day in deepening faith;<br />I seek what you;ve attained.<br />And though my time is filled each day<br />with love and work an dprayer,<br />Don't ever think that I'd forget<br />for you are always there.<br /><br />You're there each time I cry or smile,<br />you're there with each good deed;<br />for it was you who planted love -<br />you, the farmer - love, the seed -<br />a seed which grew from childhood love<br />to live eternally.<br />You're there as it is shared with all;<br />you're still there tenderly.<br /><br />For lessons learned don't end with death<br />you taught them well, you see.<br />Your guidance comes through memories<br />of things you've said to me.<br />And as I love those God has given<br />you touch them too - through me<br />and thus we know love has no end;<br />our love will always be.<br /><br />So please, don't think that I'd forget<br />though routine seems to reign,<br />for in the quiet of my day<br />I whisper low your name.<br />And yes, I miss you as I pray<br />with tears (my foggy dew);<br />be reassured then, of my love.<br />I've not forgotten you.<br /><br />copyright 1995 Cáit FinneganAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-415491493165207062008-02-03T01:00:00.000-05:002008-02-18T01:57:57.868-05:00Cycle of LifeThis has been quite a week for our family. First we lost one of our parakeets, Biddy, mother of two keets, Baby B, her first hatched girl, and Bonnie Boy, her youngest son. She died just as her daughter was sitting on 5 eggs. Kind of sad she didn't see her grandkids.<br /><br />Then my heart broke last Wednesday while at work when my friend of 9 years suddenly fell to a massive stroke right in front of me. My friend, my service dog, my buddy, she died so unexpectedly that it will take me a long time to get over the shock and grief. Honey, a beautiful German Shepherd, was also a mother-figure to our Yorkshire Terrier, Puca, who has never spent a day away from Honey in her 6 years. This is a major emotional hurdle for me, and has brought me to prayer seeking comfort. I find it in the belief that all creation was created by Love, for Love and to BE Love, and Love does not come to an end. Life is changed not ended, and Honey still IS, in whatever form our Creator knows to be best.<br /><br />Tonight after fighting a long hard battle, my oldest cat died peacefully in my arms. We had given him to my mother for her 75th birthday. He was a kitten and so we put him in a little box, so when she opened it he popped up like a Jack in the Box, and surprised her. She was so surprised she slammed the cardboard cover back down pushing Tiger back into the box! We laughed for years that she left him scarred for life. Tiger brought my aging mother so much joy. It was the best gift she ever received, and became her friend. He was with her as she died, kissing her. We inherited him and I promised Mom I would take good care of him for her. I know I did that, especially these days as he was getting ready to meet her again. Tonight, Tiger took his last breath while I held him close telling him to "go to Grandma."<br /><br />Three deaths in a week. But this morning was the first time I handled our first new baby. Hatched a few weeks ago, I left mom, dad and chick alone other than saying hi when cleaning, feeding, etc. But this morning I picked up little Sunshine for the first time. My husband was amazed at how at ease s/he was in my hands, but then I said, there is no reason to mistrust; s/he's never been harmed by a human! I hand raised the parents, so we all shared some chirps and I returned Sunshine to the nesting box. A beautiful little yellow (so far) parakeet. New life beginning while older life moved on...<br /><br />I only began with birds about 10 year ago, so I'm not as familiar as I am with dogs, cats, or even goats. But I love these little friends, and learn more every day from them as well as my other pets.<br /><br />So a week of death had its flip side too--beautiful new life. What kind of world would we have if every kid grew up witnessing this cycle gently in the home? I think we'd have far more respect for life, and a willingness to protect and nurture it, rather than take it for granted, or be fearful of the cycle, or do harm to others.<br /><br />I give thanks tonight for the beautiful friends in my life who are feathered or furry! They are part of my spiritual community teaching me about the faithful love of our Creator. Like St. Ciaran who found community among the animals, I have been blessed by them as well.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-64514636828974712772007-08-17T00:00:00.001-04:002008-02-18T01:56:38.879-05:00If Life Came With A Road MapToday I was thinking about my friends. It seems we are all so similar in our desire to make the right choices in life, base our choices on the right reasons, with the right motivation, etc. Yet, somehow, at varying stages in life, we all wonder "what if" about this or that choice. What if I had done things differently? What if I had taken another path? What if I studied that subject instead, or went into that field instead?<br /><br />Everyone can ask these questions, and a good many of us do. Sometimes it helps to evaluate where we are now, and where we'd like to be as we continue on in life. Sometimes it serves no purpose but to heap more depression and guilt, and more of a sense of failure for not being or doing what one likes. Sometimes it leaves us grateful for the path we've chosen, regardless of the stumbling blocks we may face at times.<br /><br /><br />If only life came with a map for each person, handed to new moms to guide their children in youth toward the EXACT purpose intended for them, and then handed to the young adult to follow when leaving home to head out into life in the world. If only... A map could make the choices easier. Actually, it would leave no need for choices, or show us which paths get us to the goal target, even if not directly (little side trips that could add some fun and adventure while still heading in the generally right direction). If only it was all printed out for us, colors, a slide show, and all. Then free will, still an option, would be to use the map or toss it to the wind.<br /><br /><br />I've discovered a secret. It is not meant to be kept secret though, so I'm going to tell you it in case nobody else has. There is a map! There is a map, a buried treasure, and an adventure, all in one, and we each have one! This is exciting good news indeed!<br /><br />"I Am the Way, the Truth and the Life" OMG!! There it is, buried in that bit of information told us by Jesus... The Map, The Goal, and The Adventure...all in One!<br /><br /><br />As kids we may or may not see our parents ask directions when lost. A lot depends upon the ego of the one lost, the pride. Can a parent admit s/he needs guidance? Does s/he stop and ask along the way, "How do I get to...from here?"<br />If we don't see our parents humble it's hard to learn humility. If we don't see them pray and ask guidance from the MapMaker, it's hard to learn that prayer helps us come to a spiritual discernment in our own lives. It's hard to ask another for direction, even when hopelessly lost, seeing no Light at the end of the road, no candle in any window, no friendly faces along the road. Instead we can end up cursing the day we began the journey of life, cursing the darkness and trusting nobody for assistance.<br /><br />Parents really must show their kids the humility of seeking direction in life. Show them how to pray, show them how to seek trusted others to ask guidance. Friends need to help one another do this too, especially if parents did not or could not do so, or the cycle of being Lost continues, generation to generation.<br /><br /><br />Spiritual Discernment is a rich tradition in the Christian Church. There are those with a true gift who are trained and willing to share it, to walk the path of the Lord with others and encourage them along the Way.<br /><br /><br />We do have the Map. Thanks be to God!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-40709777970389659832007-08-17T00:00:00.000-04:002014-05-11T03:01:55.968-04:00If Life Came With A Road Map<br />Today I was thinking about my friends. It seems we are all so similar in our desire to make the right choices in life, base our choices on the right reasons, with the right motivation, etc. Yet, somehow, at varying stages in life, we all wonder "what if" about this or that choice. What if I had done things differently? What if I had taken another path? What if I studied that subject instead, or went into that field instead?<br /><br />Everyone can ask these questions, and a good many of us do. Sometimes it helps to evaluate where we are now, and where we'd like to be as we continue on in life. Sometimes it serves no purpose but to heap more depression and guilt, and more of a sense of failure for not being or doing what one likes. Sometimes it leaves us grateful for the path we've chosen, regardless of the stumbling blocks we may face at times.<br /><br /><br />If only life came with a map for each person, handed to new moms to guide their children in youth toward the EXACT purpose intended for them, and then handed to the young adult to follow when leaving home to head out into life in the world. If only... A map could make the choices easier. Actually, it would leave no need for choices, or show us which paths get us to the goal target, even if not directly (little side trips that could add some fun and adventure while still heading in the generally right direction). If only it was all printed out for us, colors, a slide show, and all. Then free will, still an option, would be to use the map or toss it to the wind.<br /><br /><br />I've discovered a secret. It is not meant to be kept secret though, so I'm going to tell you it in case nobody else has. There is a map! There is a map, a buried treasure, and an adventure, all in one, and we each have one! This is exciting good news indeed!<br /><br />"I Am the Way, the Truth and the Life" OMG!! There it is, buried in that bit of information told us by Jesus... The Map, The Goal, and The Adventure...all in One!<br /><br /><br />As kids we may or may not see our parents ask directions when lost. A lot depends upon the ego of the one lost, the pride. Can a parent admit s/he needs guidance? Does s/he stop and ask along the way, "How do I get to...from here?"<br />If we don't see our parents humble it's hard to learn humility. If we don't see them pray and ask guidance from the MapMaker, it's hard to learn that prayer helps us come to a spiritual discernment in our own lives. It's hard to ask another for direction, even when hopelessly lost, seeing no Light at the end of the road, no candle in any window, no friendly faces along the road. Instead we can end up cursing the day we began the journey of life, cursing the darkness and trusting nobody for assistance.<br /><br />Parents really must show their kids the humility of seeking direction in life. Show them how to pray, show them how to seek trusted others to ask guidance. Friends need to help one another do this too, especially if parents did not or could not do so, or the cycle of being Lost continues, generation to generation.<br /><br /><br />Spiritual Discernment is a rich tradition in the Christian Church. There are those with a true gift who are trained and willing to share it, to walk the path of the Lord with others and encourage them along the Way.<br /><br /><br />We do have the Map. Thanks be to God!<br /><br /><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-24849050803412788572007-08-16T01:53:00.000-04:002008-02-18T01:54:53.197-05:00Good MorningGood Morning World! Not that it's so early, but now that I have my morning coffee I'm more able to function.<br /><br />I don't really like coffee. That's the thing. It is a legal stimulant, and I belong to the Night Owl group (on one list of priests we call it Night Owls for Christ), and so I am NOT a morning person. The world doesn't favor those of use who are not morning people. The world just goes on without us, so we're forced to make difficult choices in life. Either burn it at both ends, or live "an alternate lifestyle" and not be able to keep up with the rest of the world on its schedule.<br /><br />I fit into both groups. I burn it at both ends too often, and then there's the me who doesn't care about the world's schedule, and I keep pace with my night owl buddies (including my daughter Rose). It's a genetic thing! My mother was a night owl too. We spent many long nights together in her old age talking, playing games, watching movies, having tea. The three of us, Rose, Mom and I were like clones when it came to the night hours. We'd be prowling the house while my husband was in neverland sleeping peacefully, and then up early to function with normal people. How he dealt with 3 of us I don't know.<br /><br />Now it's just me he deals with for the most part. So, I try to compromise. I have my laptop in our room now. I have a comfortable chair there too. I can stay up reading. I can watch a movie or chat with friends, or just write. I have earphones, so my music doesn't keep him awake. Strange thing this night life.<br /><br />And, here's the funny part. I have 3 dogs, 5 cats, and 6 birds. They are ALL on my schedule. I think I have the only birds that are chattering among themselves at 3 AM. My cockatiel whistles The Nutcracker or 1812 Overture in the middle of the night! I tell them "Every other bird in the woods is asleep...but you guys!" And they just go on talking and singing. They doze off around dawn. My dogs are the same. The cats? They sleep all day and night.<br /><br />But the world goes on, and I don't want to miss out on that either, so Good Morning! Have a cuppa jo!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-71240235176898237422007-08-15T01:49:00.000-04:002008-02-18T01:53:09.328-05:00I Find Myself Thinking How Very Amazing Grace Truly Is!Today I was thinking about my daughter. She's coming home to visit soon, and I am very excited. We don't get to see her as often as we'd like. So visits are so special.<br /><br /><br />Sometimes I look back on her youth, and I think of all the things I could have done better. It makes me wonder how she turned out so good and spiritual and compassionate. Can you tell I'm a proud mom? Yeah, I admit it. Yet, I am aware I was a wounded person, raising a beautiful child.<br /><br /><br />Being a parent is not easy. When people say to me "You're lucky, your daughter is really good" I think to myself "LUCKY?? Luck has nothing to do with it! It is hard work, everyday, and when I fail it's God that saves her from my failings."<br /><br /><br />Raising children is no easy task. Sometimes the most intelligent thing a mother hears all day is her own voice! No wonder some rural moms start talking to themselves! I know I did!<br /><br /><br />When we moved to PA from NYC I thought I would lose my mind. Yes, I loved it here and still do. HOWEVER, adjusting to rural life was a challenge I truly had not considered. I was a city kid. Concrete, noise, delis, and lots of people. Here in PA we were in a rural development with few people around, and I was shy. When my husband left for work I was alone. Well, not really, but you know what I mean. I had God. I had the Communion of Saints. But, I couldn't see them! <br /><br /><br />I had good days, and a lot of bad days. Depression. Lonliness. Writing was a huge help for me back then. I had a wonderful husband who loved me, but there was something missing in my own inner life that I could not figure out. I've since realized it was the peace that comes from truly loving myself. Geez, loving oneself was the same as selfish, or so I believed. So, I sacrificed for everyone I loved, or tried to. I was there for my aging parents. I took in many children, and helped whomever I could in our ministry. But facing my own wounds and loving myself? Nope! Worst thing was that I was oblivious to my own needs.<br /><br /><br />I knew my husband loved me. No doubt. I had the most wonderful child in the universe. No doubt. And yet, there I was restless and going into a major depression. My poor family suffered from it. I tried therapy, but in hindsight I realize I was too hasty and did not take my time to find the right therapist for my particular problems. But how would I know? I didn't know my problems!! Since then I have come to recognize them honestly and found a wonderful therapist who helped me tremendously, and it made a huge difference for healing. <br /><br /><br />Grace alone, given through my husband's love, and my spiritual director's help kept me going until time and prayer opened me to look deep enough inside myself to face my own personal pain and woundedness--the things that caused me to feel unlovable, and therefore never SATISFIED with the wonderful love I was being given. How could it be real if I was not worthy? I was wrong but did not know it then. How sad, too, for those who loved me and watched me suffer...<br /><br /><br />Tremendous abuse makes a human feel unworthy of love. Women experience this all too often. I did. (I know it's hard too for men who've experienced abuse, because society tells men they have to be strong, adding yet another cross to the one they carry.) When God sent me someone who did NOT abuse but who truly reflected God's Own Love, it was hard to trust that I was loveable. It had nothing to do with him--it was my own lack of self-worth that caused me misery, and I spread the misery around freely too often!<br /><br /><br />Oh, yes, and add aging to that mix, and the feeling of not being able to create my "identity" and succeed at anything I wanted to do... Aging and women can make for trouble enough long before we recognize the symptoms. <br /><br /><br />Dear God, how do women who carry such crosses make it through life? How did I? How did I come to such deep peace? GRACE! It is not called "amazing" without reason! It comes in many ways and sometimes we don't even recognize it until we look back in 20/20 hindsight. Maybe that's what's called the wisdom of years--recognizing the Grace that saved us, and now the Grace that can save others. I don't know. I do know it has been hard work working on myself. And I am far from done! Always a work in progress, we are as humans. Yet the key, as I look back, was brute honesty about my life, my wounds, my intense need for God to heal them, to heal me.<br /><br /><br />I remain a wounded healer as a priest. But that's good! I praise God for making all things work together for the good, as promised. The very worst things I have suffered in life, abuse, betrayal, unexpected loss of my family, prolonged grief are being transformed each day by Grace into compassion and empathy for others who suffer such crosses in life, or different crosses. God takes the blackest of coal in our broken hearts and makes diamonds! Without the coal there would be no diamonds.<br /><br /><br />Funny how one thought leads to another. Thinking about my beautiful daughter coming home...remembering her as a child, now grown into a lovely woman...how God has kept us close despite my many failings, and then reflecting on the journey... Writing is good. In the old days I said I like to "think in ink," now with computers it's still good. Reflection encourages gratitude, and I am so very grateful.<br /><br /><br />Thank you, God. Thank You. Thank You for Your love for me. I love You, God. Goodnight.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-44569991030009140222007-08-13T22:21:00.000-04:002007-08-13T22:24:33.271-04:00God Willing, We Will Awake in the Morning<p>I remember as a child being taught to live each day as though it were my last here on Earth. To then live each moment as though it were my last. It was not taught to encourage hedonism, but profound Charity. If I am called home tonight, or in the next moment, would I be at peace with how I've lived?There are some wonderful things my family and the Sisters of Mercy taught me as a youth. I was lucky not to have a fanatically fearful religious family, but an intensely devoted spiritual family, who expressed their faith and spirituality through their religious lives. That's a big difference. Fanatics are fearful. Devoted people are complelled by LOVE, and God is LOVE.</p><p>My father should have been a married priest. God knows, he gave as much time to the Church as any priest ever has. He was a knock-around guy. After Church he'd hit the local pub for a few. Pubs then, like the pubs in Ireland, were not dives, but neighborhood hangouts, where much more than drinks went down. But, Da, he was a priest at heart...a man of God. The Church loses so much when men like that are not used to serve as married priests. </p><p>At 80 yrs of age herself, my mother presented me for ordination. She said that is what God was trying to get through to me all those years... In the East, where married priests are the norm in the Church, one generation after another has priests in the family. Father to son... With us, it would have been father to daughter. Alas, neither father nor daughter are welcomed as priests in the Latin Rite of the Church. But, then would I have had the wonderful journey in my life if they were? Would I have discovered the Celtic Rite?</p><p>Da taught me about Charity. He said it was the MOST important thing we must have. We would be judged by God on how we loved. So, living each day as if it were the last translated into living each day with as much Charity toward others as I could offer.My brothers each died suddenly. No warning. They were about my age. So I have become even more sober regarding this living each day as if it were my last. Those I love KNOW I love them. There is no time in life to let those things go unsaid. </p><p>This week a local woman near my age was killed in a car accident. She swerved so as not to hit a deer. The deer is alive, the woman, sadly, died. I felt so bad all week and have been praying for her son and elderly mom. What a shock it is to lose someone we love suddenly. I remember the shock of my brothers...Then there was that little boy I read about yesterday, killed by his dad who is a priest... We do not know the day or the hour. Today's readings...how true. </p><p>So, do we live in fear or worry about the day or hour, or in joy and peace? It depends upon our readiness, I suppose. Life is a gift from God, and it'd be awful to live it without joy, or in dread. I know, because I have done that as well, but that is for another day's writing.Tonight, I give my life again to God, or better put, I acknowledge my life is in God's hands, and I'm glad of it! If I live to wake up in the morning, I will give thanks, as I do each morning. </p><p>Tonight I pray for those who have died suddenly leaving the sorrowful behind in tears.</p><p>Tonight I pray in thanksgiving for my Da and Mom who gave me my Faith, for my family where the seed was watered.</p><p>Tonight I give thanks for the love in my life, for my husband and daughter and our extended family and friends. I give thanks for our Church and the wonderful people in it. I give thanks for my religious order, and their love of God.</p><p>Tonight, I give thanks for my service dog, without whom I would be much less than I am able to be. Even now, she lies at my feet with her head on my foot...</p><p>Tonight, oh my God, I give You thanks in all things. If it be Your Will, I will awake in the morning to give You thanks again.</p><p>Goodnight God. I love You.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-63069607663476653222007-08-13T22:19:00.000-04:002007-08-13T22:20:56.153-04:00"In the Name of the Father"This is from my Good Tidings Blog: Our Day Will Come www.blog.myspace.com/good_tidings<br /><br />Catholic News Service ran a very short piece about Father Dagoberto Valle Arriaga, a Mexican priest convicted of killing his 8 year old son. It was a run-of-the-mill news article, nothing more. Much as one might read the cost of gas has gone up again, and maybe have the idea that both the writer and reader are getting used to such rotten news. <br /><br />My dear God, in heaven! I can't help but feel really disgusted, revolted over the lack of outrage in the news article! I can't help but feel such anger myself, not only at the priest who would do such an unthinkable thing to his own child, but anger at the Church that would create a culture of fear in so many ethnic Catholic people, and outrage at the media for not being more outraged than I because I hear about priest-fathers hurting their children all the time. Not killing them physically, but doing their best to destroy any hope for a loving father in this life.<br /><br />What in the Name of our Good God has happened to this Church? What has happened to the people of this world that a priest killing his son to protect his own worthless arse doesn't strike horror in the mind and heart of everyone?<br /><br />Are there so few good priests left that this is just another news article about another priest doing evil to a child--the ultimate evil? Where are the good priests? Why, if they are out there are they not screaming about all this? Why don't they care? Do they all have something to hide, to protect? Where is their treasure? In the security of the priestly life, so that they will not speak up loudly in defense of the children of priests...the women of priests, the faithful who pay their salaries, expecting holy priests? I can't hear anyone? The silence is deafening. <br /><br />Oh...look gas prices went down a few cents in our area...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-65548720226571830562007-08-13T22:13:00.000-04:002014-05-11T03:01:55.992-04:00SOME END THE DAY DEAD<div> <br />This is from my Good Tidings Blog: Our Day Will Come (www.</div><br /><div><br />-- "In the Name of the Father" </div><br /><div><br />Catholic News Service ran a very short piece about Father Dagoberto Valle Arriaga, a Mexican priest convicted of killing his 8 year old son. It was a run-of-the-mill news article, nothing more. Much as one might read the cost of gas has gone up again, and maybe have the idea that both the writer and reader are getting used to such rotten news. </div><br /><div><br />My dear God, in heaven! I can't help but feel really disgusted, revolted over the lack of outrage in the news article! I can't help but feel such anger myself, not only at the priest who would do such an unthinkable thing to his own child, but anger at the Church that would create a culture of fear in so many ethnic Catholic people, and outrage at the media for not being more outraged than I because I hear about priest-fathers hurting their children all the time. Not killing them physically, but doing their best to destroy any hope for a loving father in this life.<br />What in the Name of our Good God has happened to this Church? What has happened to the people of this world that a priest killing his son to protect his own worthless arse doesn't strike horror in the mind and heart of everyone?</div><br /><div><br />Are there so few good priests left that this is just another news article about another priest doing evil to a child--the ultimate evil? Where are the good priests? Why, if they are out there are they not screaming about all this? Why don't they care? Do they all have something to hide, to protect? Where is their treasure? In the security of the priestly life, so that they will not speak up loudly in defense of the children of priests...the women of priests, the faithful who pay their salaries, expecting holy priests? I can't hear anyone? The silence is deafening. </div><br /><div><br />Oh...look gas prices went down a few cents in our area... </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-24758013719851540352007-08-07T02:26:00.000-04:002007-08-07T02:42:28.469-04:00Yeah, On What's REALLY ImportantTonight as I was playing with one of my websites I was looking for clip art to use next to the titles of my blogs. Little animals for the spirituality of animal care, teacups for the teapot spirituality blog, etc. Then I was look for one that could represent this blog. A piece of clip art about what is really important. That's right. Clip art expressing the important things in life.<br /><br />I put in all kinds of keywords about things I thought were important to me, and so I figured to others too. Family, belonging, love, peace, goodness (only one clipart on Microsoft for "goodness" isn't that scary?), friendship, joy...I tried a lot of important concepts. All those things we crave and need in life. Somehow as appropriate as many seemed, I didn't click with any until I found a small icon of a person simply praying.<br /><br />Why would that strike me as the best representation for what is really important at the end of the day? I think it's because it was a perfect example of what we truly need, what will keep us focussed on the most import parts of life, the very reason for life. When we truly pray, we must be humble. To truly pray we need to admit we need. We need to admit we are not complete in ourselves. We find peace we recognize we have everything we crave and need in our Creator! At the end of the day, we are who we are, what we are--creatures. Yet we are such blessed creatures, loved infinitely by our Infinite God! At the end of the day, we can rest...in peace. At the end of the day, it is our relationship with this loving God that is most important. <br /><br />What a joy, and a comfort to know where we stand...loved eternally. Yeah, that's what's really important, and when that really sinks in, how can we but respond in love?<br /><br />Thank you God, for this reminder of what is most important. And thank You for wanting my love in return. What a great end to the day.<br /><br />Goodnight God.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-58981162814455188782007-07-18T23:38:00.000-04:002007-07-18T23:58:42.145-04:00Sometimes We Fall On Our Faces...I think everyone now and then has taken a fall. Ice, wet pavement, mud, a stumble over something we don't see...all those unexpected violent moments seem to happen when we're totally unprepared, maybe thinking of something completely apart from the danger at our feet. Not being mindful of our footing, down we go!<br /><br />I had a fall like that tonight as I was stepping into my home after a long day. I was busy thinking about a conversation I'd just had with a very nice lady who was interested in buying a miraculous medal from our store. We talked a very long time, and then I headed home. My mind, however, was back wandering around the many things we touched on in our discussion. <br /><br />Now, I have to take responsibility for this "accident" because I know the step into our house is steep and I always have to be careful. I've had bad falls before, you see, so I'm not unfamiliar with what might happen. Yet I was not mindful of the NOW, the moment in which I was living, stuck as I was in "the past" even though it was the recent past of just 20 minutes earlier. I was not living in the NOW, was not mindful of NOW, and down I went. I spare you the ugly details of the cuts, etc., as it is the lesson upon which I want to focus. I need to focus!!<br /><br />How often do we live our days in the past? Whether it is the days of our youth, joyful or challenging, or downright painful, or last week's conversation that may have left us with much unsaid that has haunted us (if I only said ...). Maybe we focus on past relationships that have hurt us, or ones that have been so positive that we cannot bear to continue living in the flesh without that other, so we cling to memories without notice of today's Grace. <br /><br />I discovered a wonderful lesson tonight. Sometimes at the end of the day we fall on our faces...because we are still back in the middle of the day. Sometimes in life we fall on our faces because we are not truly living fully in the NOW with all the potential given to us by God. If only this, if only that, while God waits patiently, lovingly in the present moment with outstretched arms of love, waiting for us to focus on Divine Love in this life NOW, or (yikes) waiting to catch us until we do become mindful of NOW and this moment's Divine Love.<br /><br />I wish I could have learned this lesson from some mystic I've read and reread. Alas, I learn best from experience it seems!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-49907429784410914922007-07-11T00:42:00.000-04:002007-07-11T00:45:25.409-04:00Christ came to chatJuly 10, 2007 - Tuesday<br /><br /><br />Today was hot and humid, and I couldn't wait to close the shop and get home. I was just saying goodnight to a friend when a homeless man I have gotten to know well came walking into our store. Only recently our local business owners had a meeting with local police to discuss the problem of the local homeless who hang out near the stores, and in some cases frighten people off. The discussion was about what to do about the problem.<br /><br />When BT walked into the shop tonight I was actually glad to see him. He had not been around in a few weeks, and when he's gone that long I figure he's in the hospital or jail, or maybe worse. I admit, I worry about him. Tonight he was coming back from a stay in the hospital.<br /><br />Often enough when he comes, I can smell the beer breath, and tell him to watch his step because I'm not anxious to clean up any mess he may make if he bumps into counters and knocks items down. In fact, he has never made any such mess. Tonight I noticed his breath, but it was not more than one beer at the time. I come from a family that can easily recognize not just beer, but many of the other options, and we have a good idea by the look of a person about how many and what kind of intake they've had! <br /><br />Tonight I gave him no warning, but instead I greeted him, happy to see he was not in jail... and was still alive. I was getting ready to close, and honestly didn't feel like chatting, but I did want to see how he was and where he'd been. We started talking and catching up. If BT were sober long enough, he could write an interesting autobiography. But he does love his beer, as he tells me often.<br /><br />Somehow we got to talking, as usual about God, and forgiveness, and BT's choices, and the choices that are still before him. I admit, when we talk, some of my NYC street speech comes boiling to the top. I have discovered I am bilingual. I can talk to both sober and drunk speakers. He was rather shocked, because he said priests don't talk that way. I told him to be happy I was talking turkey to him, and wasn't Jesus Christ, or I'd beat him with a whip--to get his attention. BT is quite bright. He immediately got the reference. <br /><br />Our chat led into some very deep talk of God, mercy, judgement, and I found myself thinking how much the world was missing with BT hiding his light under a bushel, or a glass. I told him so. I told him how intelligent he is, and that it was obvious to me, and that he was given this gift to use. We talked about that, in his language. He laughed a lot because he was amazed how fluent I am.<br /><br />I was very aware the we were not there talking alone. Where two or more gather we know there is a Third. It's easy to think that I might have some words of wisdom for BT, afterall, I'm a priest. Ha! Don't ever let that fool ya! BT teaches me more about humility than I could ever teach him. He listens, he shares, he cries, he prays, and yes, he says he can't give up the beer.<br /><br />I think BT is right. Alone he cannot. He knows he needs Christ's help. He asked me to pray that he could. He knew I was seeing his potential and he told me the things he had enjoyed in life, before he took this real nose dive and ended homeless. He couldn't see himself getting out of this rut. But he told me he did a lot of thinking and crying at night when he talks with Christ. So, when he and Christ walked out that door, after kissing my hand like a knight, and thanking me for taking time to talk when stopped in, I told him to visit whenever he wanted because we really have great talks.<br /><br />Some locals have said there is nothing we can do for these homeless who seem to have no goals. I wonder. Even if we can do nothing, we know Christ can. Tonight, when Christ and BT came to chat, I realized that even more clearly.<br /><br />At the end of the day, we will be judged on Charity. God have mercy on me.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-80540273483266032282007-07-08T02:13:00.000-04:002007-07-08T02:15:00.631-04:00It's All About LoveAs each day comes to an end there comes that time in the evening when I begin to unwind. Well, to be honest, it's not normally in the evening for me, it's usually very late at night. I'm a night person, it seems. It's in my genes. My mom was a night person, I am, and so is my daughter. So, when the day REALLY comes to an end, I start to unwind.<br /><br />Sometimes, depending upon how well I'm living my intentions to maintain some form of a disciplined schedule, I actually sit, recollect and do a formal examine. An examine? Yes, well that's what some of us call it. It's kind of a personal test of honesty about how I've lived my day. Not like it's on a chart or anything like that (except if you really get into this and draw that line down the middle of a page...which I've not been known to do much in life). The examine, for me is about sitting myself before God Almighty, reflecting on the day, and my participation in it. To go one step more in honesty...often enough I don't sit at all, I'm lying in bed doing this. There in bed talking to the Creator of the Universe!<br /><br />It's a good thing my notion of God is based upon the loving Dad I had. He often told me there was NOTHING I could ever do wrong in life for which he would not forgive me. WOW! I didn't dwell on it much as a youth, but I often remember those words of love now. He's passed on into God, but his words are still with me. He said that if he, as a sinner could forgive me, then he bound God to do him one better!<br /><br />The end of my day often finds me thankful for this image of God...a loving parent Who embraces me and loves me despite my many failings at love. Oh, yeah, I get "the talks" from God. The Holy Spirit is sent to correct me and help me pick up my pieces best I can, and try to do better, but the talk is not a beating! It's the talk that flows from a Parent Who wants me happy, wants me to live this gift of life abundantly, and Who does all that is possible to get my mistakes repaired, or pull it all together for the good, because I do so much love God.<br /><br />At the end of the day I finish my examine, often enough in tears, but always knowing how I will fall asleep in the Arms of Divine Love. And, so I thank God for loving me...loving me directly, loving me through my husband and daughter, and through my friends and religious community. And I thank God for accepting my love, poor as it is. I thank God for the chance to have tried today, and leave it in Divine Hands whether I will be here to try again tomorrow to love a bit better. At the end of the day it's all about Love.<br /><br />Good night, God, I love You.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134684858956617669.post-59577250690978619382007-07-08T02:10:00.000-04:002007-07-08T02:12:48.459-04:00And the Beat Goes OnAnd the Beat Goes On...<br /><br />July 2, 2007 1:47am Today <br />It was a strange and wonderful weekend for me. Joe and I spent it in Syosset, L.I. where my own personal history came flooding back into my mind and heart.<br /><br />We were there for the ordination to priesthood of Maura Bernard. +Joe and +Katherine Kurtz, and +Peter Brennan were there together to lay hands. Right there is a historic group, when one considers each bishop, and his and her contribution to Church reform.<br /><br />Maura asked me to preach at the ordination and it was a very odd feeling being back in Syosset, as a priest, preaching at the ordination of another woman in the CCC, in an Episcopal Church! Had anyone told me this would eventually happen, that this would be my life, when I was living in Syosset as a Sister of Mercy, I would have slapped them! How unique, how tailored our personal journeys are when we walk with Christ. If I had walked alone, it would have been a very different path.<br /><br />The Sisters of Mercy have a huge convent and academy on Convent Road in Syosset. It used to be the novitiate building too. However, when I entered I was the only novice, and a building able to house a hundred novices was not the place to house one. So the novitiate formation program was moved to Brooklyn NY. I was the first one to enter the newly setup novitiate in Little Flower Convent on Ave D in East Flatbush. It seems like a million years ago, but today, when Joe and I visited Our Lady of Mercy Academy in Syosset and chatted with Sr Monica, it seemed like yesterday. Names flooded back. Memories flooded back. History was present. The past 40 years were a blur, and there I was back amid the Sisters who were, for a short time, my family. I missed them. I had loved them so much.<br /><br />Sr Monica told me where some of the Sisters were now living. All retired in what used to be the motherhouse, until the community recently merged with other Mercy communities forming the Mid-Atlantic Community. So much change. So many dead or old. Oh, but that meant...<br /><br />Yes, I was no longer that young sister. I thought, "but I feel the same, in a way." Sure, I have walked a different, but somehow similar path. My faith was still my faith... yet here I am an ordained priest outside the Church of my youth, and far from where I expected to be at this point in life.<br /><br />And here I am--aging, So much older... Looking tonight at the pictures of some I knew way back then, as they celebrated their 50th jubilees this year, I thought, "oh how they've aged!" Then, it hit me...I had aged as well. How strange. How strange to be older. Yet how wonderful to have the dream of serving Jesus Christ still in my heart of hearts. There's that song...Forever Young. I love that song.<br /><br />So much of this was in my heart as I preached at Mother Maura's ordination. Yes Maura, there is enough sap in these old trees to go around!!! Praise God that we are able to respond NOW. Praise God that age is meaningless and there is only the eternal NOW. <br /><br />That knotwork of life is strange and beautiful, and I am deeply grateful to God for creating the art and beauty in our lives.<br /><br />May God bless Maura as she continues her life in this new role, serving in a new way. God bless the Sisters who touched my life so deeply and profoundly, and who in many ways, set me on a course toward my own priesthood.<br /><br />Being with others in the Celtic Christian Church, and other Old Catholics this weekend was wonderful. I thank God for my life, for Joe and Rose, and for the Faith that binds my extended family in Love. <br /><br />Good night God, and thanks.<br />Cait<br /><br /><br />PS 1972 I was known as Sister Dominic Marie, RSM and this is my dear grandmother, Nellie Farrell. She was 90 yrs old and danced a jig when I left the convent.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915565946990071202noreply@blogger.com3