12/1/07
This morning when I met with Jesus, as we walked through the brush and over rocks towards the other people gathered, I felt glowingly beautiful. I mentioned this to him and he told me that I was beautiful. I laughed. I am actually, a little, old, short, fat lady. Not very beautiful. I laughed again because I truly did look beautiful walking next to Jesus. This is our mind’s ability to bring out the pure or wishful forms.
Well, I know I am not really beautiful, but I felt like I was. I still glowed with the inner beauty of God's fountain. As we met the other people on the mountain, I saw that they also had an aura around them. I think it comes with the territory. People who love God have much of God evident within and around their bodies. I felt greatly proud to be numbered among these loving people because I am not always so holy.
I felt for the inner light that comes from my center and found it easily this morning. There are times when I can barely detect it. This morn the center of being opened wide with energy. When I turned, I could see the energy turn like a flashlight in that direction.
I joined the others as we centered ourselves into a circle. Mary smiled above us at the same time that God's energy burst over us and bathed us in liquid, golden light. The feeling of great power seemed to flow through all of us, but I don’t want to call what God gives us as power. For some reason, the word doesn't fit. For a few minutes, as I write this, I struggled with the word and finally decided to call what we felt an expanded intensification of love.
This fits because what flowed over us is the same love that created the universe, that same love that continually rebirths the universe for us with every breath, that same love that will reform our souls if we allow it. Is there a single word that will cover all this? Not sure. I haven't found it yet.
Each of us who had gathered left
and went to the section of the world where we felt most familiar. I centered my
prayer and light to the
It’s a tall order to believe that such diffuse light can do any real good, but surly it must. Surly our efforts are inching the world forward. A good measurement might be the increase in subtle attacks against religious ideas. I hear a new movie, The Golden Compass, is based on a book that kills God. An article in the Atlantic Monthly states it differently. The movie kept the body of the book but left out its soul. There is nothing pertaining to God left in the movie. Thank goodness.
But what goes on here? Why is
12/2/07
I always like to hear Father Perrone’s sermons because he always gives the gospel scripture a new and unusual slant. This Sunday was no exception. He spoke about the three Advents, the beginning of the universe, Jesus' birth, and Jesus final appearance in glory. (Which reminds me that I need to qualify something I wrote last week. I didn’t mean to write that Jesus comes back periodically, I meant that Jesus intensifies his presence off and on through the centuries to help his church. Jesus is always with us and certainly will come back in glory at the end of days, just as he said he would.)
What really caught my attention this Sunday in Father’s sermon was his mention of the fallen away Catholics and other people who's lives seem aimed towards the opposite of heaven. He didn't mince words, he said that only God knows who, but, "Meny people seem headed towards damnation."
This is a frightening reality that causes me to shudder. Too many people either don’t understand or don't care about what happens after they die. I agree that it is up to all of us to do what we can to turn people around, turn them back to Christ and get them moving towards heaven once more.
After mass, the church sponsored a speaker, Michael Voris, host of the TV program “The One True Faith,” who spoke on this same theme. He reminded us how important it is for each one of us to talk about our faith when we are around other people. How else can we bring the fallen away Catholics back into the fold? According to him, we need to shout loudly to get their attention because we have too many distractions in our modern world. “Our quiet Catholic behavior will no longer speak for us like it did in the 50's and 60's."
A good point that I hadn't thought of before. He also mentioned that the situation is dire for Christianity in the west these days, including Catholicism. I am reminded of the essay about the lack of religion in the west that I put on this web site a few years ago by an excellent writer. (Wish I could write so well). Here is a link for anyone who wants a fresh look at the subject. Vanishing Sea of Faith.htm
The sermon on Monday was interesting too. Father Bustamante said the mass and spoke about faith in his sermon. He equated faith with hope, an idea I had not considered before. It reminded me of the days when I have felt bad but didn’t know why. I would ask myself what was wrong and wondered if I was lacking in faith? The sermon taught me that the only thing I had been lacking in was hope. A moment of hopelessness can right-punch anyone of us in today’s world.
Jesus encourages me past these bad moments or days by hinting at a new idea for me to write about, or an idea for a new painting. Creativity helps so much in life. But listening to sermons helps too. It would be reason enough to go to church seven days a week, though most of us don’t, myself included. Yet, I have found that a good sermon can not only teach, but lead to new thoughts and ideas. I can only conjecture about all the great ones I missed.
12/9/07
During mass before communion when the priest says a lot of prayers, I wanted to go to a few people to hug, but didn’t do very well. I did manage to go to an older man who seemed homeless and a baby in the hospital, yet I didn't feel as though I was effective. I haven’t been doing well going to people for the last few days which I figure as just one of those troughs we all sink into once in a while. We can’t always ride the high wave. Even so, I was beginning to worry, so I asked Jesus for extra help this morning.
Right away, after I asked for Jesus' help, I felt a strong emotion of distress pull at me. I let my mind flow to the source which seemed far out in the suburbs. There, in a large basement(?) room, I found a young boy about twelve years old moping and squinting his face up in anger. Because he was alone in a very large house, I assumed that both his parents were at work and he was feeling rejected. He was probably feeling hateful and hated, emotions that can grip us when we feel unloved.
I hugged him and spoke softly to him. "You are loved."
His distraught emotional state must have opened a mental door so he could hear my voice. He suddenly looked in my direction.
I sighed and wondered what to say next. It isn't often that an older child can hear me speak. Finally, I said, “Come with me on a short trip.”
I led him into the sky-tunnel which is now so opened up that the clouds and stars are obvious from every viewpoint. Birds fly around and plants thrive here, no matter that it is dark or freezing outside. The mind can do wonders that I am only now learning how to make use of.
Jesus met with us in the tunnel and the boy smiled at him. This made my job easier. It is one thing to see me (inside the mind), but quite another leap to see Jesus. When we got to the end of the tunnel, I hesitated for a second. I wanted to show the young man the moon (I knew his name by now but won't repeat it here), but then wondered if it would be irreverent to do so during mass. I looked at Jesus and he nodded his approval. Jesus has instructed me to show other people what he has shown me. This is why I had the lead this morning. Besides, the moon trip turned out to be very reverent.
We stepped out of the tunnel and stood on moon rock. Mounds of dust, rocks and every hill rise was either shadowed in vivid black or aglow with blazing white. He stood and turned his head in wonder as he looked at the moonscape. He reached down and tried to pick up some stones. I explained that he had no physical effect on the moon because only our minds were here, not our bodies. Besides, I reminded him, if our bodies were here, we wouldn’t be able to breath. He smiled. Of course, he already knew that.
“Turn around,” I told him.
He turned and there in front of us hung the huge, bloated, vivid blue ball of earth, obviously teeming with life. The contrast was stark and unforgettable. The scene brought tears to his eyes. We both stood in awe as we looked across at the earth.
I said to him, “This is yours. It will be for you to take care of one day.”
He was so choked up he could do nothing but nod.
Finally, we stepped back into the tunnel and I followed him back to his house.
I don’t know what I looked like to him. a spirit of some kind because next he asked me. “Who are you?”
"No one special," I told him.
Right at this moment, I am sitting in church and listening to the choir.”
“I want to go to church.” He said.
“Doesn’t your family go to church?” I asked him.
“No.”
“A Catholic church would be best.” I told him.
“We are supposed to be Catholic.” He answered.
I smiled. I could almost see his thoughts as if he put his mind in gear with a scheme to wear down his parents. A gleam came into his eyes, but also a hard look of defiance. His distraught emotions were gone, now replaced with a strong determination to get himself and his family back into church. I laughed and told him I would come back and visit him again one day.
All this took only a few minutes. I sat in the pew, and as the priest began to repeat Jesus words at the last supper, I thought about the boy and remembered how my own son had once helped me get back to church. In late grade school, I sent him to a Catholic school down the street from us. One day he brought home a sheet of paper with the Our Father and Hail Mary typed out on it. I read the words slowly and said, “Why, these prayers are beautiful.”
I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed their beauty before. At the time, I considered myself to be 'religious' but 'not churchy.' Also, I had probably run through the prayers quickly most of my life, even when saying a rosary. Life is a learning process, but I am exceedingly grateful that I did get back to church. I thank Jesus at least once a week. I sometimes shudder at those times when I didn’t go to church and the little sins I committed in ignorance. But all is forgiven now and I seldom look back. I just need to say it one more time, "Thank you Jesus."
12/16/07
The snow storm finally came our way. It is Sunday morning and church is out of the question. I am too old to attempt to drive to church so early in the morning through a foot of snow. I can’t take the chance in getting stuck someplace. The roads might be more passable later in the day, not sure. I assume the schools will be closed tomorrow too. So I will have another day to stay home and paint. Not sure if I want another day to paint, I haven’t been doing so well with the time I have spent with it lately. I am in one of those moods where nothing I do seems good enough. Hope I work myself out of it soon.
I will go out and shovel snow later. Not sure if I can do it all. Maybe if I do it in fifteen minutes spurts throughout the day. If someone comes along to shovel for money, I may let them, but I don’t mind shoveling the first snow fall. It is so beautiful. I will take my camera outside later and take a few photos too.
I wonder if I will put this up on the web? It is supposed to be about Jesus and his words to us, not my own ins and outs. Yet, he told me once, “I have given you a voice, use it.” He meant in regards to the ills of the world, that I should let my words shout about what we are doing wrong. I do, but not often because most of us are helpless to change the course of events.
I can only think that we are a very dumb species. Myself included. The other day I had a slight tooth ache, but had the opportunity to eat out so chose sweet and sour chicken. When I was about done eating my dinner I realized my stupidity. I am still paying for it by the need to drink ice water and take an aspirin every four hours. I would have went to a dentist, but didn’t know which one to go to on such short notice. That is my fault too. So next month I intend to start going to a dentist regularly.
So dumbness runs in the human family. Our planet is breaking up at the seams and we carry on with politics and wars as if the splitting seams weren’t vital. The leaders need to step in and make quick changes or it will be too late. Too late once we allow the sea currents to change and the poles to melt and…
It is up to our leaders to put this disaster into reverse. Some are trying, many voices are shouting amid the fray, but in the end, without togetherness and great effort, none of the voices will be enough to stop what is coming. Soon, we may all be taking notice of Pope Benedict’s opinion that nothing can change without God at the helm.
In fact, I am surprised that no one has yet blamed God for this mess. It feels like God has taken the props out of the world, decided to let it go back to nature, decided to allow us to undo ourselves, to end the experiment sooner, rather than later. I guess we are smart enough to know who to blame for these current troubles, just not smart enough to prevent their continuance.
I wonder if those people in the middle states where the snow blizzard has cut off electricity and heat for more than a week are sitting in the cold blaming God or praying to him? Maybe it is like being on the preverbal sinking boat, we will all learn how to pray, we already know how to curse. I have pray for the people stuck in the cold because I can readily imagine their distress. I was warned by Jesus a number of years ago.
Jesus said, “You are living in one of the more fortunate areas.”
So I accept
his words and know that even with
Ok, time to stop complaining and worrying. I am going to get dressed, get out and shovel snow. After that, I plan to have a very beautiful, lazy, good book in a warm chair, day.
12/18/07
The area of
McGraw has
been driving every the street in the city of
I love that
quote because it is true. He also said that
The Freepress article goes on to say that everywhere he drove in this district he found odd pieces of art. A few artists are using abandoned houses and empty lots for their canvas. I have seen a few of these houses scattered around. What a fun day it would be to drive around this district to search out and take photos of the artistic works scattered amid new porches and abandoned houses. I am going to make it a spring project.
Our circle,
(Many areas were grouped by Bill McGraw for his own reasons), included the area
just below
The series
ran for a week and every article about
12/20/07
Last night while I lay in bed, in that between state of awake and trying to drift off to sleep, my mind suddenly focused on a small round form struggling to rise up from nothingness. As it pushed and struggled I saw that it might be a face, but it was hard to tell because it seemed covered in fine, soft green netting that was stretching outward. I held my breath as I waited for it to emerge, like a chick from an egg. Finally, a small child-like person with large eyes stood up free of the net and looked at me.
Our emotions joined instantly. I felt the same thrill of arrival as the person did. Are mutual feeling of love and empathy was automatic as if the person knew I would be there waiting with a greeting. We both reached out to touch the other's hand. We kept the touch for a long while; each of us feeling great happiness. Then I moved past this first person to touch and join with many other people waiting in back. The lasting moments were filled with such a tender joy and love that I will never forget it.
As I thought about it later, I became certain that this meeting was the first of its kind. That this was their first successful attempt to reach into the past and contact one of us. I know it won't be their last. It is just the beginning of a long relationship of love and concern, on their part.
This morning I remembered that I had painted a similar meeting about eight years ago. I think I put it on my web site with other paintings if anyone wants to check it out, Friend in the Night Painting large image Friend in the Night--large
12/20/07
I have been thinking about the young boy who saw me the other Sunday. I think he saw me with his mind’s eye, yet, that is still unusual for a child of that age. He also accepted me right away, which also seems unusual. I think his anger or hyper-state of emotions may have had something to do with his ability to see me. Our emotions may play a big role in our ability to see angels or, in my case, mental visitors.
I remember that I was nervous during the first meeting of the Legion of Mary, so nervous that my emotions may have been on a hyper level. Mary has stood by me many times since then, but I have not seen her so vividly present in the meetings.
Death of a loved one can put us in a hyper-state of emotions too and may have something to do with seeing the ghosts of loved ones. I remember after my husband died, I experienced ghostly images, sounds on the stairs and even nightmares. A death can mix up our emotions for a long time. I think a hyper-state like this is what brings us visions of ghosts etc. I wonder if emotions also have something to do with other types of visions beyond the ordinary.
If we were to see Mary appear, I think that our overwhelming feelings of emotions and awe mixed with love, would enhance the effect, and might actually help us stay in contact. In other words, our own output might help Mary communicate with us.
The other week, Mary surprised me by speaking directly to me when my mind was on other things. I think I was reading a book at the time. A short time before, I had went to the door to give a lady some cans she could cash in. I felt deeply sorry for her, but didn't know what else I could do. She has had a drug and drinking problem in the past. Though she is fortunate to have a place to stay, she needs to beg for extras or maybe her next fix? If she didn’t know me, I would have given her a few dollars, but I discourage hand-outs when the person knows where I live.
After I sat down and began reading again, Mary spoke to me.
She said, "Do you want me to heal her?'
I blinked my focus out of the book and thought about it for a split second.
"Of
course." I said, surprised, and at the same time, I wondered if it was
possible to actually cure a drug addict. Yet, if anyone could, it would be
Mary.
"Yes." I laughed as
I added, "You know I would ask you heal each and every person I meet or
think about I could."
Mary smiled knowingly at my words. Her smile felt like a ray of sunshine that had suddenly entered my mind to enclose me light.
If she could, she would heal every person on earth, but we all know that is impossible. Mary knew my worry about how long any cure last with a drug addict. She let me know that that the women had her own free will so could likely revert back to her old ways again, but that, for now, she would be cured.
I understood. In Jesus time, Leprosy was the major scourge, but in our day, it is drugs that make people untouchable. I felt a slight pang of guilt too. I never invite the women inside, I talk friendly, but have never offered to be her friend. I told Mary I was ashamed for my failure.
"If she does get cured and can stay that way for a while," I promised Mary, "I will be more friendly."
I hope and pray I can keep that promise.
12/23/07
During mass this morning, my mind wondered out of the church again. The mass is so powerful that it fills me with energy enough to share God’s light energy with others. Today, I saw a man huddled in an old tweed coat near a fence. He was an older man, large with white hair. I went to him and hugged him in sympathy and shared the energy from the mass with him.
Then I refocused on the mass and the beautiful alter filled with Christmas trees. But before too long, I found my thoughts once more riveted on the same elderly man. He hadn’t moved from the spot and still cowered from the fierce wind. I could hear it howling outside around the steeples of the church.
I realized how futile my hugs were as a means of warmth, so this time I whispered into his ear, “Why not go into a church to get warm?”
I saw that he held a small bottle of liquor in his rough, cold hand, tucked halfway beneath his gray tweed coat. He was shivering. I repeated my statement, but wondered if he heard me.
“Who are you?” he finally asked into my mind.
He blinked and looked surprised when I told him I was just another person like him who was sitting inside a church right now.
“You are far from this church, but I see a small church across the street from you. Go in and get warm.”
I could see the yellow glow from a front church window with the cross centered in it.
He lifted his head and looked directly at the church and seemed to be thinking. He then looked down at the bottle he held in his hand. I didn’t say anything. This was a time to stop talking and be silent. I stood back from him and began saying a Hail Mary. Mary stood next to me and sent out a flow of heavenly light towards the old man.
Suddenly he looked around, pulled out the small bottle and set it down on the overturned tree trunk he’d been sitting near. He stood up, swayed for a moment, then straightened his back. His eyes looked red but not bleary. He didn’t look drunk to me, just cold. He turned to where I stood and smiled, though I am sure he didn’t see me or Mary. Then he reached into his coat and pulled out another small bottle. He set that one down next to the half empty one and walked across the street.
I watched as he entered the church. It was a small church, probably Baptists. I have been in small churches like this and felt the warmth. I was sure people inside this church would welcome him with open arms, especially during the Christmas holidays. Wasn’t love Jesus’ most important message to us? Didn’t he instruct us to love one another? A small storefront church is often the best place to find such friendship.
I hope someone takes him home too. I think he did a turn around in his life this Sunday and will need help to keep on the straight and narrow. Surly the angels and Mary will watch over him. It reminds me that even one soul, no matter how degraded the person has become outwardly, is worth saving.
12/25/07
Yes. The gospel this morning was from the beginning of John. The word was made flesh. Pope Benedict wrote that this was the only time in history that God became flesh. According to John’s gospel, Jesus was in the world before he became flesh. Those other times must mean Jesus as God was in the spirit. The actual truth of it is probably too deep for our understanding right now. Now in the Christmas Season and on the day we celebrate Jesus birth, I can think of nothing to write except that I am very grateful for Jesus’ birth of flesh. Heaven gave us a great gift that day, which is why we also give gifts on Christmas. Thank you Jesus for coming. Thank you for being. Thank you for teaching us how to live. Thank you for …everything.
12/30/07
Sunday's mass was heavenly. I have described the great sounding orchestra before, so have run out of superlative words in which to describe it. I can say that during the Kyrie and Gloria I felt transported beyond myself. My emotions were on such a high at this point, that I saw wisps of angels sitting to the front and side. I took closer notice and angels filled every empty seat, and I suspect, they filled the isles too.
It takes a high emotional state to see the angels because they can only be seen on the periphery of vision or with the mind’s eye. What brought the tears to my eyes was the realization that they were here because they too are so joyful about Jesus birth they celebrate it with us.
Jesus smiled and nodded at my realization. Once more I understood what a great gift he gave us by coming to earth to be born. The Catholic mass evokes this thankful feeling in me often. Even with the long tradition that weights behind the mass, it stays fresh for me during such times as this.
Later during the mass, after the gospel, Jesus walked with me down many streets of the city. Before mass, I read letters in the paper about the Driving Detroit series, so my mind was on the city this morning. Jesus walked with me on the streets surrounding the church and I noticed the contrast of hope and despair. The church stands as a fortress of hope in a sea of decay. Now all houses are in bad shape and there are a some new ones being built, but the church seems an anchor of holiness.
My own immediate neighborhood (we walked here too) is in better shape because most people have held on to their homes and not given them up to renters. This makes a big difference. Home owners usually keep up their property.
While we
walked, I wondered at what the future
would hold for the city. The angels told me once that
I suppose many are to blame for the city's plight, but I blame the leaders who pad themselves with high wages even during bad times, a council who is elected "at large," and lazy people who deface the city with their trash. I also wondere how many people were like me during the prosperous 90’s. Prosperity didn’t touch me and now that the economy is going sour, maybe it won’t fold me under either. We are a tough bunch who hold on and keep on pushing.
This down turn may be harder on those in the suburbs who aren’t used to handling such needs. I pray daily for those who are loosing good jobs and homes. Still, I see a ray of hope. It may be that this middle class, finally fed up with it all, will finally force a change that demand accountability, or at least, a larger trickle down from the top.
Here I go worrying and thinking too hard again. As we walked, Jesus told me once more not to worry, that all will be well. I smile at his words. He always says that and it seldom stops my tendency towards looking for trouble
When I took notice of the alter once more, I was amazed to see three priests and realized that three priests had been saying mass this whole time. I have never noticed that before at a mass. Maybe I haven’t been to such a high celebration before. As the procession left the church, I counted 22 alter servers, men and boys.
How
wonderful. No wonder the church and grounds glow with health. Surly the
holiness from the church spreads outwards to influence the whole area. Maybe
all the churches in
Mary told me once that when she appears, "It will help all the churches in the city."
I asked Jesus if there was anything else he would like me to do for the world.
He told me, “Just keep writing.”
I intend to hang on to Jesus words, to believe all is well and beautiful, or will be, and I decided one of my New Year’s resolutions will be to learn how to say the Our Father in Latin. At least I can do that much soon, and later learn other prayers too. By next Christmas I will be better able to follow along during the mass and won’t get lost so often. I found it interesting that while listening to my favorite music, Mozart's Requiem Mass, to noticed that it actually follows the Sunday mass book. Of course it would. Sometimes I am astounded at my own dumbness.
