"There be pirates in the vast void of space!"

My review of Guest Law, John C. Wright's brilliant short story, can be found at SFFaudio. (I guess that's a bit of a tell ... go find out why I liked it.)

A Few Book-ish Things

You know, it's an odd thing how you can be gone for two weeks with essentially no planned activities, spend a lot of time hanging around doing nothing (such as in hospital rooms) and still never really have any time to read. Such was the condition I encountered on my trip.

I did finish Mark Shea's fantastic second Mary, Mother of the Son book and this time was wise enough to take some notes as I went. That is on my stack of review books to write up. I began the third book but that was enough Mary in concentration for that time and I feel myself irresistibly pulled to The Abbess of Andalusia: Flannery O'Connor's Spiritual Journey.

As well I just finished New Tricks by John Levitt. The sequel to Dog Days, I found this to be somewhat of a rehash of the interesting concepts introduced in the first book. Additionally, I had the culprit pegged within a few pages of initial appearance, which is always somewhat of a bore. I probably will not continue with the series although that book was perfectly diverting for the trip and so served its purpose. Yesterday I received my review copy of Ann Rice's Angel Time and after reading the first 40 pages or so am hooked. It will be my next fiction read.

On the cookbook front, my copy arrived of The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Recipes from an Accidental Country Girl by Ree Drummond. I bought this one for myself and a quick perusal shows it is just what I hoped for: a delightful representation not only of Pioneer Woman's cooking posts but of her blog in general.

Upon return I discovered an unsolicited review book (as far as I can recall), Reading Jesus: A Writer's Encounter with the Gospels by Mary Gordon. Best selling author Gordon is suddenly struck one day by the fact that she has never read the Gospels all the way through due, she tells us, to the fact that she was raised Catholic in the 1950s and only heard them in bits on Sundays. Fired up with this idea, she dashes off to begin immediately. This book is her series of contemplations on those books. I read the first 75 pages or so and found it highly humorous that Gordon does just what she is annoyed at the Church for having done. She selects key bits that all seem to be related and gives us her meditations upon them. That is not to say that her thoughts are not interesting or thought provoking or worth spending time on. I, personally, did not find them to be very enlightening and will not continue reading. Additionally, her mash-ups of Gospel were selected for common themes that she wanted to discuss. Taking them out of context is problematic and annoying for the very reason that she mentions at the beginning of the book.

Another tendency that I found annoying was Gordon's habit of tossing around Biblical scholars' names and then fall back on her own personal interpretation. This is especially obvious in the case of when Jesus tells the young man that he cannot stay to bury his father but must follow Him. Gordon concludes:

I would have buried my father. I would not have followed Jesus. I would have known that I was right.

Gordon does not stop to consider that if she would have been right and Jesus would have been wrong (Jesus, God Incarnate, let us remember) then it is possible that she is not digging deep enough. We cannot skate the surface with such texts or we fall prey to error. I am fortunate enough to have read William Barclay's study of Luke. I must add a disclaimer here that from a Catholic theological viewpoint Barclay is often in grievous error. In fact, from a basic Christian viewpoint that can be the case, such as his many "work around explanations" for the virgin birth of Jesus. However, when it comes to shedding light on past customs and original language meanings and translations Barclay is fantastic. He tells us that asking to bury one's father was a common Middle Eastern expression that was an easy way to put off immediate action.

I see that without intending it, this turned into a book review from someone who didn't read the entire book. Apologies if the rest of the book redeems the faults I mention above but I have too many books to read to spend time on this one. Mine is a highly individual take and probably many people will find them worthwhile. My main caution is that readers remember that ultimately these are Gordon's personal reflections rather than legitimate interpretations of the Gospels. To explore the Gospels in further depth, one might seek out works by the authors Gordon references as the ones I noted all seemed pretty trustworthy and some were authoritative in their fields.

When perusing Mom's bookcases I discovered a book that I think I gave her and then, somehow, forgot. It is always odd to rediscover a book that one liked well enough to give as a gift. A Circle of Quiet by Madeleine L'Engle is the first of her Crosswick Journals series of four books. She wrote them as a long letter or series of journal entries on her life living in the country near a small village with her family. This book achieves the effect that I believe Mary Gordon was going for. L'Engle's meditations upon life reads somewhat like Dorothy Day's journal, On Pilgrimage which I see I have somehow never reviewed but highly recommend. Inextricably wound in among daily activities of family, teaching, and writing are thoughts about God that are quietly illuminating and give us much food for thought. Highest recommendation.

"You do not realize the value of the good you are doing..."

You do not realize the value of the good you are doing. Think of how the farmer sows without seeing his crop in front of him. He trusts in the land to deliver his harvest. So why don't you put your trust in God? The day of the harvest will surely come.Imagine yourself in the middle of the planting season. The more we sow today, the more we can reap tomorrow. Remember those words of Holy scripture: "He that goes forth weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him" (Ps 125:6).

St. Augustine, Sermon 102, 5
Quoted in In Conversation with God, Vol. 5:
Ordinary Time, Weeks 24-34

I feel as if I have just come off of a two week retreat. A retreat that others are carrying on with my prayer support, I might add.

On the way back to Dallas, reviewing the astounding events that have taken place over a two-week period, I again was in awe of God and his mysterious workings. The result was that for the first two hours I played my "God mix" as loud as I could take it and sang along in my private praise and worship session. Sometimes jubilant, sometimes crying ... as the Holy Spirit touched my soul.

I am sorry to say that first I had to overcome my selfish desire to stay home and not disrupt my life which was flowing along nicely. That took a couple of days. I was then able to throw myself fully into the humble tasks of driving Mom, sitting at Dad's bedside both when it seemed each breath would be his last and then as he miraculously recovered his faculties completely (and I use the word "miraculous" deliberately), helping clean out their house, making sure Mom remembered to eat, and suchlike. Good works to be sure but nothing exalted. Except that, not seeing with God's eyes, those experiences are exactly what enabled me to have such a perspective that I could say to my father before I left, "When you die and see God holding out His hand, take it and go with Him. You can't imagine the love and happiness there and I want you to have it."

Not exactly words I ever imagined myself saying to my father. Or him crying with me and saying, "I will!"

I couldn't have imagined how my sister, brother, and I would all in our own ways provide what was needed, both practically and spiritually, for my mother and father ... each according to our talents and insights.

I certainly couldn't have imagined that a demonic encounter by a down-to-earth family member, that was impossible to mistake for coincidence, would be the thing that would suddenly prompt a new focus for my mother, a new way of thinking, and a series of conversations about spiritual warfare. I am positive that The Enemy, also as short sighted as me, wouldn't have imagined that such blatancy would be used by God to such a result that my mother told me on the phone that she prayed last night. Glory be to God! Surely her reaching out to God is something that she will sorely need in the trials of the days to come and of adjusting to new life later.

The growth and light never end. We are not often privileged to see strands come together as God weaves a tapestry, but this is one of those times.

I am now prayer support as my father's "retreat" continues. I do not think it has long to go as he is becoming weaker. Of your kindness, please continue to add your prayers to mine for my father and mother.

Ghosties and Ghoulies

From ghoulies and ghosties
And long-leggedy beasties
And things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us!

Scottish Saying

So here's the other thing about this whole experience with Dad and dreadful illness and family coming together and many, many people praying and feeling strange movings of the Holy Spirit coming over them to intercede for my father.

Just in case we thought that only God cares? No. It has become very apparent that, just as before a retreat comes up, the Enemy is irate over the idea of something good happening that can change people's lives for the better; that can send them to eternal bliss with God instead of separate them forever from that light.

I won't go into details other than to say some is silly petty annoyance and some are downright Halloween-worthy encounters. (I have to say, more than I have ever come across for a retreat.) However, the effect of these attempts has been to tip the Enemy's hand. That's clumsy. And what's easy to see is something that can be fought and opposed by prayer, faithful striving to let God shine through, and just plain loving each other while trying to do our best as a family. Which is a beautiful thing to see.

It's a really good reminder as well. That's just how precious an eternal soul is. Just in case we forget or doubt it.

My Father

My father will be going into hospice probably tomorrow afternoon. This might not sound like good news but it definitely is the best of the options available for his condition. I admire my mother so much for stepping up to support her husband in love and help him make the decisions he is too confused to properly consider right now. She has gone through so much grieving and, of course, will continue to do so but she was a source of quiet strength for Dad today.

A few days ago when he was much less coherent than he is right now, my father was telling me that he'd like an Irish wake. I told him that I'd rather have an Irish welcome home celebration. He somehow latched onto that and this morning when he decided that hospice was the best course, then wanted to get on with planning the party.

So we are throwing ourselves into getting his "welcome home" party planned. Ok, to be totally truthful, my sister has taken charge of that (thank goodness, because my "taking charge" batteries are all run down right now). We are seeing about appetizers from his favorite restaurant (Ocean Zen), with pastries reminiscent of some favorites from his youth, crossing our fingers that the guest list will not have Halloween parties to attend until later in the evening, and suchlike. All this goes on with regular hospital visits and assigned tasks to do with clearing out their home for rental, etc.

This afternoon when my brother and I spent a few hours with Dad, he was telling the most hilarious stories and we were laughing so hard that we could hardly breathe. A prep session, perhaps, for the party.

I am so thankful for all the prayers. I know that they made a huge difference. Although there have been many problems, difficult decisions, and much crying and heart-rending pain, there have also been many examples of love and sacrifice offered up for each other in our little family in service of each other. This morning was the culmination of all that. I prayed for the Holy Spirit to flow and for God's will to be done and I believe that it is, as best we can carry it out. The way suddenly became smoother, as often happens, and various people at peace and in harmony as we worked our way through the day.

Halloween News Tidbit

Controlled studies have measured the effects of sugar consumption on behavior and cognitive performance and failed to find any connection. See for example this meta-analysis. There have even been interesting studies where parents were asked to observe kids behavior. When the parents thought the kids had eaten sugar, they reported changes in behavior--even when the kids had actually been given a placebo. See this article for more on the sugar-hyperactivity myth.

Read it all and get the links at Nutrition Diva.

Chaput Tosses Together a Tasty Salad of Politics, American History, and Catholicism: Render Unto Caesar

I am long overdue in reviewing Render Unto Caesar by Charles J. Chaput. It is a brilliant book. Overall it is an examination of how to be Catholic and involved in political life. In the United States, this actually applies to each and every Catholic. How we weigh which candidates to vote for, how we decide which public issues to become involved in, how we even evaluate what the media tells us about the world at large, should all be examined through a lens of Catholic faith.

For me, just as important is Chaput's examination of the history of Catholics in America. He doesn't dwell on the oft-mentioned "persecuted minority" that many Catholic histories mention, but instead focuses on why history teaches us it is important to be involved in government. As Chaput says, "Christian faith is always personal but never private."

It is difficult to be more eloquent than previous reviewers. What I can tell you is that, unlikely as it seems, I read this book in a dead heat in the space of a week. It captivated me with the well-stated, compelling reasoning that is Chaput's hallmark. I also really respect Chaput for his ability to be very even-handed. That is established firmly at the very beginning with the list of what the book is not, which I offer in abbreviated excerpt below.

Let me explain what this book will not do. It will not endorse any political party or candidate. Both major U.S. political parties have plenty of good people in their ranks. Neither party fully represents a Catholic way of thinking about social issues. One of the lessons we need to learn from the last fifty years is that a preferred American "Catholic" party doesn't exist. ...

This book will not feed anyone's nostalgia for a Catholic golden age. The past usually looks better as it fades in the rearview mirror. ... After listening to some ten thousand personal confessions over thirty-seven years of priesthood, I'm very confident that the details of daily life change over time but human nature doesn't. ...

This book will not be an academic study or a work of formal scholarship. ... On the other hand, this book certainly does claim to be a statement of common sense amply supported by history, public record, and fact. ...

Finally, this book doesn't offer any grand theory. It does offer thoughts based on my nineteen years as an American Catholic bishop and my interest in our common history. I believe that our nation's public life, like Christianity itself is meant for everyone, and everyone has a duty to contribute to it. The American experiment depends on the active involvement of all its citizens, not just lobbyists, experts, think tanks, and the mass media. for Catholics, politics--the pursuit of justice and the common good--is part of the history of salvation. No one is a minor actor in that drama. Each person is important ...

... Ultimately I believe that all of us who call ourselves American and Catholic need to recover what it really means to be "Catholic." "We also need to find again the courage to be Catholic Christians first--not in opposition to our country, but to serve its best ideals.

Highly recommended ... oh, and yes, I received the book from the publisher. But I'd tell you to read it even if I didn't.

For Dad, Who Loves the Fall Leaves

Both are from Visual Thoughts, where DL Ennis has many more gorgeous photos.

St. Dismas, pray for us

Pax of Ariberto from The Lion & the Cardinal

Intercessions
With reverence and love, let us lay before our God the needs of the world: R:Hear us, O God our Savior!

Who I'm Praying for Today

• Dad, who is extremely close to meeting His Maker.
• For Mom, who is not ready to let Dad go.
• For Joanette and her job application ... Lord guide her in the way she should go
• An end to abortion and a reverence for life in all stages of age and health.
• Our priests and for vocations
  
• Abortion providers, Lord open their eyes and hearts
• Strength, joy and peace for oppressed Christians in China, Asia, and the Middle East. Also that their oppressors may have their eyes opened to the truth. And for all those oppressed, actually.
• Plus a whole lot of previous intentions mentioned here and for the intentions mentioned around St. Blog's Parish. Although they are usually mentioned here for only about a week, the prayers continue as these intentions go into my prayer journal.

Something to Laugh About ... Especially if You are a Film School Student

Which means, of course, that I got this from Rose.



Click on the image to enlarge it.

I especially liked Antz and Shrek from the Dreamworks offerings so we really need not have any arguments. But you gotta admit it's pretty funny.

Sweet Mother ...

Dulce Madre, no te alejes.
Tu vista de mi no apartes.
Ven conmigo a todas partes, y solo(a) nunca me dejes.
Ya que me proteges tanto, como verdadera Madre,
Haz que me bendiga el Padre, el Hijo, y el Espíritu Santo.
Amén.

Sweet Mother, do not part from me.
Do not lose me from your sight.
Accompany me everywhere and never leave me all alone.
Because you protect me like a true Mother,
Obtain for me the blessing of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.
Amen.

If you have not yet come across Mexico Bob then you are missing a real treat. Go read all about this dulce prayer.

Feeling God's Love Through the Kindness of Strangers

What a day.

It began with Mom and me talking on the phone and admitting to each other that we'd been walking around crying over everything. Gray and rainy and cold outside with nary a stray sunbeam to lighten the mood. I lost my phone charger. I locked myself out of my hotel room.

Through all this Mom and I trudged on to the hospital to see Dad and found small touches of the miraculous everywhere we turned.

It began with a kind friend who wrote to ask about Dad's progress (not good, by the way). After relating similar experiences (although much worse sounding to me) he then wrote with simple eloquence, "God is merciful. This is how he forms us all to become more like his Son."

I can't tell you how that hit me. Like a reality check and a caress at the same time. It reminded me of how earnestly I had prayed a couple of weeks before to draw closer to Jesus, to be more like Him no matter what it took (and so sorry for the fear behind that prayer, Lord, as always). Prayers being answered, friends sending the word. Beautiful.

At the hospital we rolled into the Step Down unit and Mom cried out delightedly, "JOSEPHINE!" A charming, smiling Asian nurse had been Mom's favorite nurse when Dad was in the Critical Care unit. Today she was Dad's nurse again. For Mom it was like a touch of home and relaxation to find that someone she likes so well was taking care of Dad.

Then on to the palliative care nurse who was genuinely interested in the story of how Mom and Dad met, what their lives were like together and so on. She was able to explain the hospice concept and how it might apply to Dad while, amazingly, remaining just detached enough that we did not worry about it happening soon. She also showed us a great elevator trick for getting around lines since Mom is in a wheelchair because the long hospital halls are too much for her wonky knee.

Getting lunch from a little cafe in the hospital, a complete stranger left his own lunch waiting on the counter while he suddenly appeared out of nowhere at our table with our lunches. A lady from a nearby table stopped on her way out and told us to have a good day, just out of the blue. It left us feeling happy and left me uplifted. Which, as Happy Catholic, I had to share with her that for a Christian those are little pats and hugs from God to tell us He loves us, that He's with us, that we're not alone ... delivered by all those around us. Which she took ok ...

Then later in talking about someone who was experiencing the results of bad behavior and how it just hurt him more than anyone else ... she said, "I suppose God, if you believed in him, doesn't really ever punish anyone. He just lets you go your own way and you reap the consequences of bad decisions."

She is so smart and perceptive. It astounded me that she even brought God into the equation at all. We then had a very short exchange about free will and the fact that love is never true unless it is freely given. (amen!)

When I checked email tonight I had a message from another good friend who has had Dad on his mind for prayers for some time. As this friend has told me more than once, it is NOT his common practice to pray for various fathers of anyone. Today he suddenly thought of praying the Sacred Heart of Jesus novena for Dad to the point where he had to pull over and begin.

Those who read this blog regularly will know that I have a special love for that novena, which I include below.

O Lord Jesus Christ, to your most Sacred Heart I confide this intention. Only look upon me, then do what your love inspires. Let your Sacred Heart decide. I count on you. I trust in you. I throw myself on your mercy. Lord Jesus, you will not fail me.

(Mention your request)

Sacred Heart of Jesus, I trust in you.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, I believe in your love for me.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, your kingdom come.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, I have asked you for many favors, but I earnestly implore this one. Take it, place it in your open heart. When the Eternal Father looks upon it, he will see it covered with your Precious Blood. It will no longer be my prayer, but yours, Jesus. Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in you. Let me not be disappointed. Amen.

The line "When the Eternal Father looks upon it, he will see it covered with your Precious Blood. It will no longer be my prayer, but yours, Jesus" is my favorite. How could my friend's prayers for my father not be Jesus' own prayer?

I am so grateful for the kindness of friends and strangers ... and for the glimpses of the loving God they showed me today. I did not ask for it. I did not expect it. Which makes it even more of a humbling gift to receive.

Thank you, O Lord.

Ask Dr. Boli ...

Dr. Boli's most recent addition to the allegorical bestiary features a creature well known to Texans and I couldn't resist printing the entire thing ... his description of the henroaches running management made me laugh out loud.

Dear Dr. Boli,

How come female cockroaches are not called henroaches?

Sincerely yours,
Desperate in Chicago

Dr. Boli is a little surprised by this question, but he supposes that the subtler points of entomology are no longer routinely taught except to specialists. In his youth it was well known that female cockroaches are in fact called henroaches, but the term seems to have been nearly forgotten, in the same way that it is common now for even ornithologists to observe a flock of ducks without remarking that some of them are drakes.

Roaches are capitalistic by nature, and their colonies are run like any well-managed corporation. The cockroaches are the manual labor of the establishment, busy with the ordinary affairs of the company, such as skittering, foraging, and manufacturing small plastic goods for the domestic market. The henroaches, on the other hand, are in the management end of the business. They sit at the small desks which the cockroaches have painstakingly fashioned for them with their mandibles out of bits of wood, writing reports to each other, reading flowcharts, and ordering catered luncheons. Most of the concrete decisions in the colony are made by outside consultants hired from reputable firms at nearly ruinous rates.

Allegorically, the cockroach represents the planet Neptune, which was rather a latecomer to the game, having been discovered at a time when the stock of allegorical representatives had been thoroughly picked over.

Unbelievably ... this photo was shot from a kite

Read all about it in this Macworld article. (via New Advent)

Just Checking In for a Sec ...

... my dad is not doing very well right now. He goes in tomorrow for surgery for a port to begin dialysis. Although there are also issues with heart and lungs, helping his kidneys "wake up" is the best chance to help the whole system.

If it works, we shall see how things go from there.

If not, well, then that's bad news.

My poor mom had to absorb all this today, which was the first day we had an overall report from a doctor.

I so appreciate the prayers of everyone in this matter.

This evening Mom mentioned that everyone was so nice and considerate around the hospital. I thought that was probably because for everyone except new parents, we are all in it together with something sad somewhere being visited on someone we love. And we all know that we're in it together. It makes me pray for everyone I see when I walk through there.

Nothing new in terms of revelation, but never a bad thing to remember.

She's leaving town .... bye, bye

Actually I am leaving town tomorrow to drive to Springfield.

Dad's hospital stay has become more extended than originally thought. If I have learned nothing else from Tom's Dad's extended hospital stay before he died a few years ago, it was that emotional support matters much more than the idea that one can "do" anything in the situation.

This is where they also serve who only sit and wait (if I haven't mangled that quote).

Anyway, I have a few posts that will show up Friday and Saturday and then we shall see how much time, energy, and inspiration I have for more.

Actually, I know I'll have inspiration. Getting a leaky tire looked at this morning turned into an extended wait with not enough to do (no tread on the tires meant new tires, alignment needed, oh and natch the brakes were "metal on metal" in the back ... thank Heavens for that leaky tire!). Plus I grabbed the wrong book ... Mark Shea's vol. 2 of Mary, Mother of the Son. Not that any of his trilogy are ever wrong but I had finished it and meant to grab vol. 3 which I began last night.

Providential. Of course.

I read through the parts I had marked up (lots of those). Pondered. Read through them a second and third time. Then in the middle of mentally complaining yet again about all the time this was taking, all the money this was costing, the lack of a new book to read, the guy next to me using his cell phone ... oh, yeah, and it is gray again outside ... so I was suffering, y'all ... S.U.F.F.E.R.I.N.G.

(I know ... what a whiner, right?)

Then it hit me.

I was suffering.

(Ok, mostly I was annoyed but it counted anyway.)

Glory be to God and thank you!

I had an overflowing bounty to join with Christ's suffering which I could offer up for my father and mother.

What a difference a thought like that can make.

I was not wanting new problems to surface but as the annoyances continued I could honestly say, "thank you" for each one and hold it up to Christ.

Now that the suffering wasn't being wasted, of course, it no longer bothered me nearly as much. In fact, I would smile when something presented itself.

Glory be, how I love being Catholic.

(Oh, and now my nice, safe, overhauled car feels as if I am floating on air when I drive...like new. God's economy, y'all.)

Improvised Music, Improvised Magic, and a Canine Companion (and yes he's magic too)

I first read about Dog Days in a review at SF Site. Luckily the library had a copy although I probably will be buying my own. This book grabbed me by the throat and I couldn't put it down. It's been a long time since I've been kept up turning pages until around midnight ... and I'd forgotten how good it felt to be interested by a compelling story.

Mason's forte is improvisation. His talent makes him a good jazz musician though if he weren't too lazy to practice he could be a great one. Likewise his talent makes him a good improvisational magic practitioner though, again, if he practiced he could be great ... and I'm not talking about pulling rabbits out of a hat. With Lou who is, for lack of a more precise term, a magical dog-ish companion, Mason makes out ok and enjoys his life.

Until, of course, increasingly stronger magical attacks begin on his life. This sends him to consult his mentor, Eli, and we then become introduced to more about this universe's construction of magic and the people who practice it in San Francisco. As we would expect the story builds to the climax of Mason and Lou versus the evil magic user who is perpetrating some truly heinous crimes for a number of very bad reasons.

Levitt knows how to write a story that keeps the reader on the edge of his seat. Even though Mason might sound like a slacker, this story is the beginning of a series. From Mason's reaction to hearing true assessments of his character, lack of ambition, and potential, we can see that there may be changes taking place over time as he reevaluates priorities. Lou is a lovable character, partially because of how fond Mason is of him and that is another point in Mason's favor.

This is something along the lines of the early Harry Dresden books by Jim Butcher and I look forward to reading the sequel.

Best. Canned. Tuna. Ever.

Read about my quest for the perfect tuna and where I found it at Meanwhile, Back in the Kitchen.

"Do not wait for leaders. Do it alone. Person to person." -- Mother Teresa

On the way to the church, I had seen a man standing on the corner of Farnam and Saddle Creek Road with a cardboard sign that said, “HOMELESS – EVERYTHING HELPS.” Beggars are not uncommon in this half of town, and when I see them, I always think of “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.” God gave me a weak spot in my heart for beggars. When I look at them I can’t see anything but Jesus. If I can, I give them what they ask for.

So today I got back in my car and drove to that intersection. The man was still there. I parked in the lot behind him and approached him. He was an older man, a Native American with longer, wispy gray hair, wrinkles, and a few missing teeth. He wore a Colorado Rockies jacket over a thin dark tank-top. He greeted me with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

“Hi,” I said. “I don’t have any cash with me, but if you’re hungry I’ll buy you dinner across the street.” I gestured to the Don and Millie’s restaurant on the other side of Saddle Creek.

“You want to?” he asked with just a shade of disbelief.

“Yeah, if you’re hungry,” I said. He nodded and folded his sign into a tattered backpack. “Meet me there, ok?” I said. He nodded again and went to cross the street. I drove my car around to the restaurant (not easily – from that corner, it involved two U-turns).

We went inside and I noticed he smelled strongly of alcohol. I asked him what he wanted. He briefly examined the menu, then said “Whatever is cheapest.”

“No, what do you want?” I said. ...

I have a feeling Mother Teresa approved heartily of Brad following his convictions. Go read the entire thing. It makes me remember that it is easy to talk, not so easy to do. But we must all make the effort or no one ever steps out and does an act of kindness for anyone.

The Beauty of Being Used Up

Long ago you founded the earth
and the heavens are the work of your hands.
They will perish but you will remain.
They will all wear out like a garment.
You will change them like clothes that are changed.
But you neither change, nor have an end.

A beautiful depiction of the constant-renewal of the world and all Creation in it, including you and me. I prayed the psalms and considered the slow lifting of the darkness on this overcast autumn day, the first-turning leaves, from green-to-gold. Summertime has reached its absolute fullness, and -being wholly and fully summer, and incapable of being more of what it is- it leaves us now, and the slow but inexorable winter begins the process of reaching its culmination, of becoming wholly and fully winter, until it can be no more of winter, and so forth.

God arrays himself in the splendor of all of it, wears it out like garments needing changing.

And that is us, as well. If we are to be Christ to each other, to become the presence of God that is Love, Mercy and Justice, to each other, then our whole life is, like winter and summer, the quest to become wholly and fully ourselves, who we were created to be, in Christ, until we cannot be more of what we are.

Does this mean more when I read it because we have had day after day of gray autumnal weather here? Maybe. I love autumn. Does it mean more because my father has taken a turn for the worse and so I naturally turn my thoughts to last things? Maybe. I love my father. Is it because God is asking me to stretch for Him again and take on a new thing? Maybe. It is like all those things He has asked of me, enticing but means putting myself out there more than is strictly comfortable.

All I know is that The Anchoress's thoughts right now are just what I needed to read.

There is more and I think I will be printing it out to ponder and reread slowly, in my own time.