HOLY POVERTY DOES NOT WORK FOR DISABLED PEOPLE

 

PACKING TAPE COVERS THE HOLE THE

THIEVES LEFT WHERE THE WINDOW USED

TO BE

"Holy poverty" is something one learns to live with and, for the most part, I have adjusted to the limitations, but it would be a lot easier if I was not also variously disabled.

I have lived alone as a disabled urban religious for the last 20 years, surviving on my Social Security retirement income that I accumulated over more than 30 years of working as a secretary and office manager, something I did between stints in a Hindu convent. I also wrote for television in my early 20's, but the environment did not suit me and I left it behind.

Throughout my working life, I was battling poor health, mostly from what I now know to be inherited arthritic conditions, until I finally could not work any more and I had to stop. (In addition, I was suffering from long-term complex PTSD from several near-death and violent experiences, on top of Asberger's syndrome.)

My life has never been easy, but I have offered it up for the glory of God and, while I am happy to do that, it is still necessary to SURVIVE, something that is very difficult to do if one is disabled, mobility challenged, and does not have close family.

For some years after becoming disabled, I anticipated the inheritance my father had willed to me, but after he got Alzheimer's, someone took him to an attorney friend of theirs who did not know him, instead of the attorney he had used for decades who knew me, and that third person had me written  out of my father's will in favor of herself and her relatives. Shortly thereafter, he died under very suspicious circumstances. 

I was not notified that my father had died until after his body had been cremated. Shortly thereafter, the man who signed my father's death certificate went to prison for writing bogus prescriptions for people he had never seen. It is fairly obvious what happened here.  

I was even conned by another estranged relative who called me out of the blue and promised to get my inheritance back for me, but it turned out to be a conspiracy on top of a con job so that I could be pushed aside in favor of HER. That was more than a decade ago. There was nothing I could do to right these injustices. I had to acknowledge that I am too trusting and not nearly as clever as these people who were willing to lie, cheat, steal, and more, in order to grab money.  I had to just bless them and release them, knowing that The Lord will deal with them in His own way and I had to just move on.

A painting I did of our Blessed

Mother and Baby Jesus

Ever since that time, I have tried to supplement my retirement income by working at several types of crafts to sell, but without help to market and sell these things, I was unable to do it. One woman from church offered to sell things at a table during one of our church events, then she backed out after I had made a large supply of silver earrings because she realized she had misinformed me about the type of craft items that were allowed to be sold. A local store agreed to see my work, but when I finished producing the line to show her and/or sell, she backed out because she had gotten an influx of "vendors" into her shop and she did not even want to see what I had made for her! She had "too much stock." Recently, a very good friend generously offered to share her yearly craft table at a local fair, and I prepared a large number of things for it, but the day before the craft fair, her husband came down with Covid, and of course the whole project had to be scrapped. Between the tools and supplies, I had spent a good deal of money  - all for naught. I gave up on those projects and am donating everything to charity.

There are two creative projects left, both of which have generated some income for me in the past. One is a set of paintings I have designed, along with hand-made matching frames,  and the other is a novel I have been struggling to write. I was unsure if The Lord was wanting me to continue to strive forward with these, so I asked him recently, "Lord, please tell me if you want me to give up the creative projects and just devote myself to prayer alone" and within a minute, I had my answer. He gave me the introductory scenes and the denouement of a novel that had eluded me for two years! It was as if he handed me the entire project timeline from Heaven!  He just laid it on me in one fell swoop! My own personal miracle. I still have to write it, mind you, but He gave me those essential plot points that I've needed for so very long. Thanks be to God!

"Lady of the Stars"

watercolor I painted

The really wonderful thing is that the novel has an underlying spiritual dimension that could speak to nearly everyone. The story is realistic without being negative, uplifting without being saccharine. I will continue to work on it and hope to finish it this year.

IN THE MEANTIME, the recent upsurge in prices at the market, as well as incredibly expensive heating bills over the fall and winter, have left me absolutely "skint," as my British friends would say. Combine this with the deficit created by the money spent on the creative projects I was not able to sell, and you have a real disaster waiting to happen. I was robbing Peter to pay Paul, all the while hoping to somehow catch up.

That disaster happened today, when I had one more emergency than I was prepared to handle. My car's battery has died for the last time. It is not holding a charge. The battery was failing, and the recent freezing weather killed it. It is almost 30 years old, however, so I am grateful it lasted as long as it has!

To make it even more pathetic, the

car also has a flat front tire.

Batteries, along with everything else, have increased dramatically in price. The last time I had to buy a battery, it was $30. Now they are, at minimum, about $140. That does not include the labor to install them.

In addition, the back passenger window is still missing, the hole covered with tape. The front driver's window is permanently in the "closed" position because the mechanism broke some time ago and we did not generate enough money to fix it properly, so a friend of a friend opened up the door panel and tied the window in place. Now, whenever faced with a drive-through of any sort, I have to open the entire door. This is not a SAFE arrangement, but it will cost about $500 to install a working mechanism to lift the window up and down.

I am forced to create a GOFUNDME campaign to get the car worked on. I could actually use a couple thousand dollars to fix everything that is wrong with it, but I thought it better to ask for as little as possible, thinking it may encourage folks to donate, if it does not look like an impossible goal. I am actually hoping for more than we've asked for, but at the very LEAST would like to get a new or reconditioned battery.

I realize that my situation my not seem pathetic enough to some, but my survival actually depends on getting some help. I have done everything I can to help myself, to no avail, and I hope that my readers may find it in their hearts to contribute.

You can find my GO FUND ME CAMPAIGN HERE.

If you are unable to contribute, I ask that you to pray for me.

God bless us all

SOLEMNITY OF THE MOST SACRED HEART OF JESUS - JUNE 11, 2021

 

The daily practice of researching, studying and contemplating the day's saint, Marian observance, or other feast day has become a deeply satisfying spiritual practice for me. I can feel a sparkling happiness washing over me the moment I begin. It is hard to describe, but because it is so rewarding, I am given the sense that, if there is any little thing that I am destined to perform for the lovers of God,  presenting these little meditations on my modest blog may be it.

Each holy day has its own special charism, and some are particularly affecting. Today's solemnity holds up an icon of great spiritual symbolism - the Sacred Heart of Jesus. 

As with all icons, this one has its specific required imagery, rife with meaning. We are called to gaze on the loving heart of the Lord that is on fire with impassioned Love for all of us. The crown of thorns represents the injuries and pain that we cause Him by our failure to follow his commandments, which speaks to our ingratitude for the graces given us. Crowned with the cross, we are reminded how much He suffered for us, further emphasizing the great divide between his gifts and our thankfulness and perception of them. The rays surrounding his Sacred Heart are a promise of the graces and blessings that await us when we turn our attention to His loving heart. Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus is one of the most moving of all the Christian devotions and one which has generated many beautiful images.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

Devotion to the Lord's Sacred Heart has a typical set of recommendations or requirements that involve going to confession and receiving communion often, especially on the First Friday of the month, doing so with the specific intention to make atonement, and to REJOICE in it.

I love it that our joy is mandated. How marvelous.

Attached to the devotion are 12 promises that were given to Sister Margaret Mary Alacoque, who was gifted with the task of furthering this devotion. Evidently, many more promises were made, but those 12 are the ones calculated to naturally increase our love for God. I won't go into them here because I am not all that familiar with this devotion, and there are many articles already written by those much more educated than I, so I will include some links at the end of this blog post for you to explore them yourself.

I will be reading up on the devotion to the Sacred Heart, right along with you, because this is what I do with my daily research into the various feasts and observances. It may be a shotgun approach, but I seem to be able to retain more of the information when I do it this way. I would love to hear from you and get your thoughts about this observance - or any of the others that I write about. Indeed, even the contemplative life, in general.

Devotion to the Sacred Heart is a very popular and commonly practiced devotion by many Catholics, but you don't have to take on all of the practices to get a lot out of the imagery and meaning of the Sacred Heart. Memorizing a picture, such as the one above, or placing a photo of it in the meditation and prayer corner, to gaze on during prayers is something that I love to do. The beauty of the image makes an impression on the heart and mind.

I feel a kinship with sister Margaret Mary Alacoque. She had a hard time getting traction with her own sisters in the convent with her. She was an amazing mystic and visionary, but there was much skepticism surrounding her visions and mystical experiences, and it wasn't until 75 years after her death that this devotion took hold. 

Her fellow sisters were critical of her and complained that she didn't do her tasks very well. (This is somewhat of a common theme when it comes to the reception of the saints among their contemporaries.) I also relate to THAT situation, as I received constant criticism when I was in the Hindu convent. Housekeeping tasks weren't easily accomplished. I was a very expensive and messy cook (albeit enthusiastic); and when I tried to help one of the nuns in charge of making garlands with which to decorate the shrine, she yelled at me and stomped out of the room because, apparently, I used dark pink flowers instead of red flowers - or vice versa (I never did understand what she wanted, as all the flowers looked the same to my eyes!)

Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque preferred silence and prayer from the time she was a child. I myself remember being very attracted to the Carmelite nuns, even though my family was not religious and my mother hated the Catholics. I engaged in a correspondence with a group of Carmelite nuns in Carmel, when I was eleven years old, for about a year - until my mother put an end to it. (She REALLY hated Catholic nuns.)

Reading about the nuns and seeing even the slightest of similarities or ordinariness between them and us gives encouragement to anyone devoted to the monastic path, specifically the path of contemplation. I recommend it to my readers who are similarly engaged because, as we all quickly learned, this type of life is not easy and there is precious little support (if any at all.) Our sisters and brothers in Heaven are probably going to be more sympathetic to our efforts than anyone on earth, so I recommend taking the hand of any with whom you feel some similarity, and learn as much as you can about them, then call upon them, on occasion, as you have need. I find it very helpful.

I haven't been writing this blog very often as I am currently absorbed with a book I am trying to finish, and I am also having a lot of problems with my health, with numerous doctor visits. BOTH eyes have now been severely affected by macular degeneration. The right eye has followed the example of the left and is now exhibiting signs of having gone "wet," which means I need to start having shots in BOTH eyes in an effort to put off blindness as long as possible.

This is particularly challenging for me. I have to rely upon others to drive me to and from these appointments because I am unable to see after the doctors and technicians are finished with me. Having been an independent person my whole life, it discomfits me to have to call upon friends to cart me around in this way - but I suppose it is an exercise in humility to have to ask. I don't want to be a bother but taxis are not common in this town, nor could I afford them.

In connection with all that, I beg you please to pray for me so that this eye disease is conquered. When I lose my vision, I lose some ability to care for myself, as well as do the various artistic pursuits I love.

Also, I ask for you to please pray for my good friend in heaven, our dear reader Iris, who passed away not long ago. We did not realize that she had stage 4 liver cancer, as she had not told any of us of the doctor's diagnosis and her refusal to accept treatment. Once she ended up in the hospital, she wasn't able to communicate, and the end was swift. I was upset not to be able to say goodbye to her, but I pray for her soul. She was a lovely person, a sincere spiritual aspirant, and an avid meditation student. She had many talents, including that of a writer of poems and beautiful prose. Even in her 70's, she had much more to do with her life.

I hope you enjoy what little information I was able to give you about today's solemn holy day. Really, I touched upon very little of it. If you have interest in learning more, refer to the links that I've listed below.

In the meantime, God bless you all and keep you. Please pray for me as I pray for you.

Silver Rose

LINKS ABOUT THE SACRED HEART FROM VARIOUS SOURCES:

SISTERS OF CARMEL

SIMPLY CATHOLIC

SAINT WIBORADA - MY INSPIRATION OF THE DAY - MAY 2, 2021

 

    

Saint Wiborada of Saint Gallens Abbey

Died 926

I have recently been unable to post on this blog due to a broken computer and surgery for melanoma cancer and subsequent healing. The computer and I are in fine condition now, and I have returned to the musings.

Every day, I try to examine the list of saints who share the feast day. Typically, it is a list of about a dozen men. Every once in a while, one or two women will be included, but they're usually obscure, little-known women for whom not much is known.

Men have traditionally made a fuss over the saintliness of other men, while giving short shrift to the women.

In about 80% of cases, there is almost nothing known about the female saint mentioned, except perhaps if she is a virgin, which is made a big fuss over, but men are never congratulated for it in those lists of saints. Mostly, we will know that she is a virgin and rebuked the offers of marriage. That's the most popular story...that the parents wanted her to marry and she refused because she belongs to God alone - and then she goes on to become an anchoress, a hermit or an abbess.

But seriously - what about the men? Why is a man never lauded as a "virgin?" I really want to know why this is such a big deal for a woman but not even worth mentioning for men. Chastity is equally expected of all Christians (ostensibly), so why this stark difference between the men and women? Perhaps one of our readers will chime in with some information I've never read.

Wiborada and Bishop Salomon

The women we do tend to hear about are the wealthy ones who endowed convents and monasteries - or the women are are related or linked to a male saint of some renown. My response to all this is to ignore the male saints, except for my direct ancestors, concentrating on the more obscure women, taking their stories to heart and using them to inspire my monastic inclinations and doing my part to bring attention to them.

I look to the unknown saints - the silent ones - for inspiration about the monastic life that I am living alone because what I am doing is very similar to what most of them did, and that is to ignore the typical demands of our culture for women to attach ourselves to men and orbit around them, attempting to live in the reflected life of the glory of the male triumphs. This mode of life is so unique, that people often fail to understand the motivation.

I live for God alone, and there is little to no support for that idea in modern society. In fact, even religious who should know better sometimes consider it kooky - especially if it is a woman who has set foot on this path. They seem to quickly get over this reticence to dignify the aspirations of a female monastic if the woman has money and wants to endow an institution, which is how many of my sainted ancestors got support for their vocations. While women are dismissed out of hand in many cases, men are fawned over and revered without the jaundiced, critical eye customarily used when regarding the women. This sounds harsh, I know, but it is historically accurate, for the most part. (Yes, there are exceptions for every rule of life, but not many for this one.)

Obviously, ignoring women's accomplishments isn't reserved to the Catholic hierarchy. It is a cultural thing all over the world and has been for some time. Every endeavor in every arena is submerged in the idea of women's inferiority, and this has been going on for so long that even women have internalized this idea that they are naturally subservient peons. I think this may be why females have such a hard time supporting and encouraging one another. Instead, some women will try to destroy another of their sex who dares to attempt the remarkable. There is so little respect to go around that it puts us all into competition with one another. In response to this deficit, women have resorted to spreading rumors and engaging in petty and juvenile character assassinations, like the mean girls in the schoolyard. I feel sad about the number of times I have seen this drama played out.

At the same time, I have been privileged to know exceptional women who have transcended this sad reality. They are holy women - women for whom gossip and spite are far beneath them. They fly through life on angel wings. I would like to mention one of these women today.

Our dear friend, Iris, avid reader of this blog and sometimes meditation student, has left us. Unbeknownst to most of us, she suffered stage 4 liver cancer for the last year or so. She hid it from us, and I wish she hadn't, but I believe she was afraid we would try to talk her into cooperating with the doctors. I respect the wishes of others when it comes to their own health care, but I just wish I had the opportunity to say goodbye to her and to tell her how much her friendship meant to me. I would have welcomed the opportunity to help her transition to her new life in Christ. I ask that you all please pray for her soul. 

Today's saint appeals to me because she and I have some interests and conditions in common. First, she was a descendant of a noble Swabian family (now Switzerland.) I am also descended from Swabian nobility way way back in time, so at some point she and I shared some ancestors. (I am related to and descended from many of the European noble families because they were forever marrying one another. In fact, I am a cousin to myself many times over!) 

As a writer, I have always been mad about books, and Wiborada is the patron saint of libraries and librarians because she spent some time binding books for her brother, who was a priest.

Wiborada lived for some time with her brother Hatto at the Abbey of Saint Gall/Gallen. She made some of his clothes, and I am also a seamstress of sorts, having designed and made clothing for my own small clothing shop in Hollywood in the 1970's. I have lost most of my vision in my left eye, so it is much more difficult to sew, but I am gamely giving it a try, making some linen dresses for a simple monastic wardrobe.

Wiborada was also credited with visions and premonitions and predicted the Hungarian invasion of her region, which helped them hide the books (and the wine!) She refused to flee for her life, and when the Magyar marauders later reached St. Gall Abbey, they found her kneeling in prayer in her cell and immediately killed her with a blow to her head with a shepherd's axe. Because she played a pivotal role in saving the library and the lives of others while refusing to do what would be necessary to save her own, she was given the status of martyr.

Saint Wiborada is far braver than I. To be honest, I don't see me becoming a martyr under any circumstances, even though I have become rather accustomed to offering up chronic pain. Those of you who are disabled, in similar circumstances, know what I mean. Even though life can be excruciatingly uncomfortable when saddled with continuous aches, I am not anxious to experience the afterlife any sooner than necessary. There is a reason we have been given life, and it is important to live out our destinies here.

When I write about these female saints and draw parallels to myself, it is because it inspires me to improve my spiritual disciplines and, well, everything else too! The similarities draw my interest and attention to her, only so that the ways in which I fall short can be highlighted. Give it a try with a saint that appeals to you also and see if it doesn't produce similar results.

I have a request that you also pray for some special needs I heard about today.  First of all, a family that has not been together for a long time is looking forward to spending time together and traveling to another state. The mother is in her 90's, and who knows how long she will remain as she is? I am praying to the Lord that he protect all of them and facilitate a very happy and healthy reunion. This family is very special to me. Please pray for them.

Secondly, I know of a husband and wife from a former parish of mine who are currently hospitalized with Covid.  Evidently, the two of them had bought into the anti-vaccination propaganda of a certain section of the right wing. Consequently, they BOTH became quite ill and  are now hospitalized. I believe they are in their late 70's, and the wife had previously been a smoker, so her lungs are compromised. I just have this feeling that now is not the time for them to go. They need time. I think you know what I mean. Please pray for them.

Thirdly, there is a lady in my apartment complex who I have known for ten years, and she has become quite ill with some kind of dementia. She is on a long, slow slide, and it is painful to see. It is also very uncomfortable to deal with because she has become sharp, angry, critical and often hostile - especially when someone is trying to help her. She needs the help and wants it, but I think somewhere inside her she resents needing the help. She knows that her mind is "going." Please pray for her.

Fourth, I ask for your prayers for the wonderful people who recently bought me a new computer so that I could continue with my writing. I am more grateful to them than I can say. Will you join me in prayer for their welfare, that their generosity be rewarded?

As for myself, I ask prayers for healing. Since I last wrote a blog post, I had surgery to remove a melanoma cancer tumor from my scalp. It was much bigger than any of us anticipated when they first found it...but it is certainly smaller than the wound to Wiborada's scalp when the marauders split it with that axe! (Another fine example of how the examples found in stories about the saints help us to live ours!)

I hope you'll try to make use of the lives of the stories about the saints to help and encourage you on your journey, and please write us and let us know how it goes for you also! I would love to hear from you about this.

God bless us all

Silver Rose

SELFISHNESS

 

I took my dog out for our late evening potty break but was unable to use my electric "mobility scooter" because a large car had parked right on top of the handicap ramp that is the only way to have access to the majority of the parking lot and walking areas. I had to fight back groans of pain while I hobbled with my cane instead of being able to USE the scooter. 

The ramp was OBVIOUSLY meant for disabled people - but whoever parked there did not consider anyone else's needs and desires but their own.

When I got close to the back gate, I noticed that someone had left a car parked directly in front of and completely blocking our one and only fire exit. There is a wide expanse of space where they could have parked instead - space that would not block our fire exit. As I passed, I wondered why they didn't consider anyone else's needs and desires but their own?

A little further on, I was unhappy to see that the movie company that is filming outside our gates decided to install their outdoor toilet right up against our fence,  two inches from the access gate the residents use to take their walks along the irrigation ditch and down to the dog park and just two feet from my neighbors' front door. Again, there are acres of room out there and they could have chosen to toilet themselves AWAY from our doors, sidewalks and walkways, but they didn't. I could almost SEE the stench rising from the latrine .  I wonder why they didn't consider anyone else's needs and desires but their own?

As I turned toward home, I thought about how life "themes" tend to strike me within the daily happenings, and I can see a string of meaning - a life course, of sorts. The last few months, I have been getting teachings about selfishness. It is easy to recall many examples of it For instance:

Last week, a visitor parked their car in front of my garage so I could not enter or exit - and when I asked her to move, three people joined her in some very frightening intimidation, screaming and yelling at me, calling me vulgar names and making reference to my being "old." They kept me prisoner in my car for 20 minutes, blocking me from going forward by moving the traffic cone in front of my car and then leaning over the hood while they screamed at me and made filthy faces and hand gestures. It was a nightmare.  Their belief appears to be that their comfort and convenience supersedes the rights and needs of everyone - even a disabled senior lady who pays rent for that space the interloper misappropriated. Their own parking space is just a few feet further away than the one they covet, and apparently this is of great insult to them, these newcomers to the building who drive a vehicle that sports, in LARGE letters, the motto, "F - - K THE POPULATION," an anti-social modern saying.

I had an experience recently in which other shoppers have been so absorbed in their own mental processes that they have banged into me, jostled me, reached across my body to get something they wanted - and all of this happened during a pandemic in which consciousness of one's proximity to other people is really important. When I asked one woman to stop touching me and to give me some space, she stood over me and glowered at me. She was awfully tall - at least six feet. Most women aren't that tall, and I remember wondering if her height had helped to turn her into a bully. She must have been an awful creature on the playground. She refused to get out of my space, so I had to leave and circle back later for the vegetables I had been picking when she accosted  me.

This is how gangs take charge of neighborhoods, I imagine. No one wants to go near these anti-social cretins, so everyone is forced to just give them what they want.

Something that happens as you progress in meditation practice is the ability to see the condition of other humans - the darkness and preoccupation of their minds - and how cut off they are from consciousness. Selfishness makes these people spin around inside their own minds, orbiting around the mania of the moment. Buddhists call this "monkey mind."  It is a terrible ordeal and torment for them.

Lately, I feel surrounded by these lost souls, as I have had to go to the doctor many times for a skin cancer that needs to be removed, and I am out in the public much more than is customary. In the process of getting my medical needs met, I have had to interact with some of these "monkey minds" including that of a very young surgeon I met with yesterday. She was manic and used hyperbole to mask her lack of concentration. The "conversation" was disturbing, as she repeated answers to questions I had not asked, ignored some of the questions I DID ask, and misinterpreted some things I had said - ostensibly because she was not paying proper attention. Recognizing the signs of "monkey mind", I have scheduled an appointment with a different surgeon.

I was very glad to interact with a man at the Cancer Center who DID seem completely present and conscious - the man who had been tasked with pushing my wheelchair around the facility. He took some time to show me some of the art on the walls, and then took me to my car. I was sad not to have had any cash to give him and made a mental note to carry some with me next time I go to the hospital. Their valet parking and other services are "free" but I am sure a tip would be welcome. It was a psychic relief to interact with someone who was present and selfless.

Tonight, while I walked and prayed and thought, I held the dog's leash with one hand and the recently purchased cannister of pepper spray attached to my key chain in my other. I am idealistic, but I am also practical. Now that people have started aggressing on me, I need to be prepared. I had no idea that some disabled and senior folks are routinely faced with abuse simply because they aren't vigorous enough to defend themselves. It's a sad commentary on human nature, and one that gives me great pain to observe.

Cherishing the delights of being able to help other human beings, and mourning the loss of this ability, through disability and its resultant poverty, makes me very sad for myself but especially for these people who apparently are ignorant of one of the most dazzling pleasures that being human provides.

Of all the memories I cherish in my old age, it is the memory of the handful of times I have been able to help other sentient beings get some need met or some long cherished desire realized. I can't imagine a life in which this is not experienced, desired or pursued.

The beauty of selflessness, of loving one's neighbor, of kindness and consideration, is sublime - exquisite - and supremely satisfying. I pray that everyone gets to experience its pleasures because it changes one's outlook on life entirely. I am betting that all my readers are well aware of this, as you all tend to be highly evolved people, I have observed. Please join me in my prayer that the bullies of the world get to experience and be transformed by selflessness, something Jesus talked about more than any other topic.

Silver Rose
Sannyasini Kaliprana

RIDICULOUS MIRACLES

 

The Missing Television Clicker

A few days ago, I lost the television clicker. I do not watch much television, except for the daily news on PBS, or Masterpiece Theater on Sunday evenings. If someone phones me or comes to the door, however, I have to clamber over the couch, lean against the back of it, and reach around the side of the TV to feel  my way to the correct button to press to turn it off or lower the sound.

Not only is it painful to perform these antics, but it is also not entirely safe, as I have had problems getting back up, once I have fallen to the floor, which happens occasionally.

Every day since that darn thing disappeared, I have spent some minutes rifling through drawers, cabinets, book cases, boxes and every other area I could imagine - looking for the television clicker - to no avail. I could not find it anywhere, looking twice or even THREE times in some places, such as the folds of the recliner, where I spend a good bit of time.

Finally, today, I had a conversation with GOD, and this is how it went:

"Dear Lord, I know this is ridiculous, and I don't usually

bother you for something so petty, but could you please help me 

with this clicker? I've looked everywhere and I simply can't

find it!"

I was standing in the middle of the living room - exasperated. I had looked in SO many places, and I couldn't find the darn thing. It is unlike me to give up on ANYTHING, but it had been many days, I was in a lot of pain, and I could not tolerate the prospect of spending money on a new clicker, only to find it somewhere arcane at a later date. My parsimoniuos nature rebelled at the idea.

It was time to take the dog out for his morning walk, but I decided to check the living room recliner AGAIN for that clicker. Sometimes, things get lost between the cushion and the arm or down the back of it, between the backrest and the seat cusion. I had already checked it throughly, but I tried it again - quite firmly and comprehensively. I pushed my hand down as far as it would go and checked every inch of space around the cushion. It was not there. It simply was not.

It is a very windy morning. The Arctic blast that has brought us freezing temps and snow for the last week or so has kicked up again, with the wind at about 25 miles per hour. I slipped on my parka, got the service dog into his adorable little down jacket, and braved the elements so he could have his morning constitutional. I hadn't even had my first cup of coffee because my insomnia had me running late again.

After a rather brisk and bracing meander to the mail boxes, I came home, unleashed the dog, and had him sit on the couch for his morning biscuit treat. When I turned away from him and faced the recliner, this is what I saw:

I was dumbfounded. As I have described to you, this clicker was not in the chair when I searched for it - and it certainly wasn't laying neatly on the cushion in this manner.

I had searched in the bowels of that chair several times already, and, in fact, I SLEEP in that chair and would most certainly have felt that uncomfortable object. But no. It was not in the chair when I left the apartment, but it was there when I returned, as if it had dropped out of the sky.

Processing this is going to take me some time, but it is almost comical, isn't it?

What I think is happening is that God is showing me that He is here with me, in even the smallest and most mundane and petty little frustrations of my life - that nothing is too small to seek his help and that all I have to do is ask. "Don't be so stubbornly independent. Don't hesitate to ask Me to help you," He seems to be saying.

Sceptics will try to dismiss this miraculous occurrence by positing something pedestrian. They will have to invent some insanity on my part - or perhaps some pervasive and extreme lack of attention. Perhaps they will assume that some quirk of physics made this chair belch up the clicker from its innards, or that "someone" simply came and dropped it there. None of this is true, of course. I practically assaulted that chair, with surgical precision, just before walking out the door, I am not insane, and I live alone.

Yogis would likely recognize this as just another example of yogic powers that come to a person after spending decades in solitary, concentrated meditation and prayer.

New Agers might attribute the appearance of this item to the obedience of the physical world to the intention of a spiritual adept.

The deeply cynical will assume I invented this story for some self-aggrandizement, in which case I would say that if I was going to invent a miraculous occurrence, I'd use a good deal more imagination and concoct an apparition of the Virgin Mary giving me some Divine Mission to the world that would make me look very special and important, instead of ridiculous. After all, what would we call my present tale? "The Miracle of the Missing Clicker?" It is ludicrous!

Christians, on the other hand, might easiy see this event as a response from the Divine to one of His beloved children.

Whatever is the "color" of the mind of the person reading about this is the color they'll paint it, but if there ever was a time when the assistance of the Lord is needed, it is NOW, during a worldwide pandemic in a situation of extreme political division and unrest, with global climate change causing freakish storms and temperatures that burst the water pipes and freeze the unprepared gizmos that bring power to houses in surprising locations like Texas! We NEED every hint of transcendence we can get right now, so I, for one, am not throwing this away.

It is no surprise that I feel stunned as I write this. It isn't every day that a physical object miraculously appears out of nowhere and almost drops in one's lap from the veritable clouds! As I said, I will be processing this for some time, but, without question, at least one of the messages and meanings from this bizarre event is a reassurance from the Divine that He is with us in everything - no matter how small or banal.

I send love and encouragement to you all. Hang in there! Our dark days will pass and, in the meantime, remember that the Lord is with us, loves us, and hears us when we entreat him for His Divine assistance.

Silver Rose
Sannyasini Kaliprana

BLESSED MARIA CRISTINA BRANDO IS MY EXAMPLE TODAY

 

BLESSED MARIA CRISTINA BRANDO

Of the dozen or so remarkable people whose feast day is today, Blessed Maria Cristina Brando is my easy choice because she and I have much in common, with one glaring difference. While she came from a devout family and already knew by the time she was 12 that she wanted to become "a saint," my family was rabidly anti-religious and anti-Catholic in particular. When I was 12, I felt the tug of desire for spiritual life but had no context in which to place it.

I have written in detail about my first experiences with religion in my previous blog post titled "SCIENTOLOGY, HINDUISM, BUDDHISM, CATHOLICISM AND ME." When you read that post, you see that, by the time I was 12, I was also yearning toward walking the path of perfection but while Blessed Maria Cristina Brando was supported by her early childhood experiences, mine were the type that have to be transcended and overcome over many years of investigation, study and experimentation.

My adoption by a spiritual father was crucial to this process, and I am forever grateful to Swami Swahananda of blessed memory, a celibate monk and swami who joined the Ramakrishna Math when he himself was only 13. When he originally initiated me into the meditation practices of the Hindus, he evidently saw my destiny and initially gave me a Christ mantra, despite my never having attended any Christian Church. I wondered why he had done that, and it only became obvious much later.

When I juxtapose the basic framework of my life experiences with those of Maria Cristina, it is glaringly obvious that early childhood education in faith is essential for the spiritual health of each individual so that they don't have to spin their wheels reinventing said wheels later in life.

Having studied and practiced major world religions and lived a curriculum of comparative religions, I have seen the remarkable similarities between them all. If the ground is prepared in childhood, any seed that is planted afterward more easily grows.

Maria Cristina used to say, "I must become holy; I want to be a saint." She kept trying to enter religious life but was turned back many times due to her poor health, a situation to which I can certainly relate. She was sent home by the Poor Clares AND the Sacramentine nuns.

This is what we have most in common - a strong vocation for monastic life, but having physical weakness and/or bodily disfunction that prevents us from being welcomed by any extant group we might like to join.

Most often when spiritual personalities encounter this difficulty (and many of them HAVE) they will typically form the center of a new organization that is formed when others start to follow, or they continue in a solitary state as a hermit or anchoress, which is my condition.

Blessed Maria Cristina Brando ultimately ended up starting her own congregation with her sister and a few others called the "Sisters-Expiatory Victims of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament." Their focus was both contemplative and active, concentrating on the adoration of the Blessed Sacrament in the Tabernacle and also the education of young women. The work of the contemplative, inner life seems contradictory to the outward going and very busy engagement of teaching children - but it obviously suited these young women who were still in their 20's when this occurred.

This is the wonderful thing about a monastic vocation. There is a monastic expression available for everyone who desires one because, while it is oft-times easier to conform one's life to a holy purpose when in the company of others in a deliberately "spiritual" atmosphere, we do not have to join a group  to live out that vocation. We can be like the desert fathers or desert mothers.  Who is going to tell you that you cannot live your life for God alone or dictate what work or service project you may legitimately pursue as an expression of your vocation? While Blessed Maria Cristina and her fellow sisters devoted themselves to the education of children, I paint and write about religious topics. I have become convinced that God prepares the ground for a monastic vocation from the very beginning.

God sees the barriers that other people or circumstances may erect in our path, interfering with an easy answer to His call but He provides us with the ability to overcome them in some fashion. What many do not understand is that because He has granted all of us free will, He does not force our hand, nor does He force others to accept us.

There ARE miracles, to be sure. I certainly believe in those, but I have yet to see a miracle that forces anyone to accept it. Think about the Virgin Mary. The entire Christian story was dependent upon her willingness - her "yes."

There were people in Blessed Maria Cristina's life who didn't think she was "suitable" for consecrated life. They rejected her for entry into the convent and they sent her home from other convents and they nattered about her in the town - but she didn't give up what her heart told her to do. If  none of the convents would accept her, she decided to start her own. Where there is a will, there is a way.

Although I have pursued my hermit-like vocation for more than 18 years, it is certainly not "perfected." That is a lifelong aspiration that can only be approached, but never accomplished. Even after all this time in this condition, I still require inspiration, and I am grateful to Blessed Maria Cristina for showing yet another example of a disabled woman who managed to live a life consecrated to God, despite the rejection or interference of others.

Ultimately, the monastic life is a conversation between the individual soul and the Lord. It is easiest to see this clearly when one is involved in a contemplative lifestyle, but it is true for all varieties of monasticism.

I derive great inspiration from this young blessed who simply did not give up on her dream to live for God alone.

May she and all the other holy people inspire us with their strength and determination!

Silver Rose
Sannyasini Kaliprana

Copyright (c) 2021
All rights reserved.

SAINT THORFINN VS. DONALD TRUMP

Reuters/Mark Theiler/File photo - January 6, 2021

A couple days ago, I watched as Donald Trump stood before a crowd of devotees and exhorted them to go to the Capitol building and take over the government, hammering out the drum beat of a fictional tale of an election "stolen" from their HERO (him) citing his tired old conspiracy theories calculated to inflame the crowd. Prior to this, he had primed the pump by announcing on Twitter that he was calling them to go to the Capitol building and that it was going to be "wild."

"He was oppressed and He was afflicted, 

yet he did not open his mouth,

Like a lamb that is led to slaughter,

And like a sheep that is silent before its shearers,

He did not open His mouth."

Isaiah 53:7

Two days later, we are still dealing with this unprecedented assault on our democracy.

Somehow this man captured the imaginations and hearts of people who feel left behind by society - a society that had moved on to welcome and embrace different "lifestyles" than theirs - a society they had grown to hate because it was - is - a society that ignored them, when they used to be its masters and its mythical heroes. The reins had been taken from their hands with a surly look and a patronizing, "Ok, Boomer."

This is why the average age of Trump's rage-fueled crowd that broke down the doors and invaded the Capitol building was considerably older than what you typically see in a protest event. But this was never intended to be a peaceful "protest." It was always meant to be a bloody holy crusade. Their bitterness and resentment had coalesced and hardened under an aging tyrant whose indignation at being left behind was even more intense than theirs and who was selling them a fantasy in which each one of them could be the savior of the American way of life - or at least their version of it. "Make America Great Again" really means "put us in charge again, like we were before."

"And I looked and behold, you had sinned against the Lord your God.

You had made yourselves a golden calf. You had turned aside quickly

from the way that the Lord had commanded you."

Deuteronomy 9:15

But Trump's followers are not a cohesive group because Trump's only requirement is that they be loyal to him. That's it. Different people come to him for different reasons. I know people who voted for him and supported him because they're very involved in the "pro-life" movement and they wanted him to appoint "pro-life" judges that they believed would reverse Roe v. Wade. They wouldn't be caught dead in a red MAGA hat while sitting in the bleachers of a Trump rally, and they were definitely not breaking into the Capitol building.

He had called his troops to Washington D.C. via Twitter, the internet platform that he adopted as his personal, exclusive mode of communication, eschewing the "official" channels of government that are curated and overseen by government professionals whose skill has been honed by years of managing official government edicts. Trump would have none of it. He alone would be in control. Typical of this attitude, when he was campaigning he had said "I alone can fix it."

(Twitter announced today that Trump is now permanently banned from their platform. Facebook had beat them to it on the day this happened.)

"He will not quarrel, nor cry out,

Nor will anyone hear His voice in the streets."

Matthew 12:19

I have known many Trumps in my life. Having been born into, raised up in, and worked in the entertainment industry until my late 20's, I met countless Trump clones - people with stars in their eyes and aspirations of fame in their souls - for whom reality is relative and "image" is everything. I have watched these people create fables about themselves and weave epic tales that overlay the truth of who they really are, yearning all the while for the adoration of a crowd. They want to be a star. They want to be THE star.

This is why I knew that a Trump presidency was going to be a nightmare - and I was right.

Trump told the crowd that he would accompany them to the Capitol, that he would be there beside them, but in classic coward's fashion, he slipped into a waiting car that took him in the opposite direction. He had given marching orders to his troops and probably didn't even give a backward glance to watch them parading off toward the capitol, with their flags flying: Trump flags, American flags - and the ominous Confederate flags that telegraph The South's "lost cause" to anyone with an historical perspective.

"But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, 

as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, 

idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be 

in the lake that burns with fire and sulphur, 

which is the second death."

Revelation 21:8

The Confederate flags are a dead giveaway as to the genesis of a very active portion of Trump's followers. His blatant racism and xenophobia had activated the sons of The South. The Civil War never ended here in America, so when the Ku Klux Klan, the Proud Boys, the Neo-Nazis, anti-Semites and the generic white supremacists heard Trump's racist dog-whistles, they jumped to follow him. I suspect that a good portion of Trump's younger devotees belong to this general group that showed up fully costumed in military kit, complete with long guns. One of the men brought 11 "Molotov cocktails." Among the weapons were long guns, hand guns and  i.e.d.'s, as would be recognized by anyone with recent military experience, and a number of pipe bombs.

Among the flags were numerous signs and T-Shirts with slogans emblazed on them, of course, at least one of which read: "6 million Jews is not enough."

Outside the Capitol building, the crowd appeared to grow in frenetic energy. An angry group attacked a black passer-by, demanding to know who she voted for and why she was there. They tore out her hair extensions, sprayed pepper spray into her eyes from close-up, and man-handled her. She was eventually rescued. 

Journalists were accosted, questioned and assaulted, their equipment, in many cases, destroyed or damaged.

By the end of the day, fifty police officers had been injured and one was on life support (he later died.) One woman was shot and killed by police. Three other rioters were killed from some aspect of their involvement in the insurrection.

From their midst, I heard someone blowing the shofar - a ram's horn that was used as a wind instrument during Biblical times in order to signal battle instructions during war time. The crowd pressed forward and began to fight the few police that were there. The pitiful little iron barricades were quickly dispensed with and it didn't take long before the anarchists were streaming into the building. There were more than a hundred of them, by my estimation.

(Later, I learned that, right about the time that I heard the shofar being blown, Trump had issued a tweet of disappointment that Mike Pence had not done what Trump had urged him to do, which was to violate the Constitution and interfere with the counting of the votes of the Electors that had been delivered. The Vice President was basically supposed to open the envelopes - like a presenter at the Academy Awards. It is a ceremonial function and it would not have been possible for him to change the outcome, but Trump refused to believe it. I suspect that the blowing of the shofar was the signal for the mob to break into the Capitol, as per a pre-arranged plan. I will be following the hearings in the months to come and will be interested in the back story on all of it.)

"If anyone loves me he will keep my word and my father 

will love him,and we will come to him and 

make our home with him."

John 14:23

Absent a leader, the madding crowd didn't know what to do after they broke into the Capitol building and random chaos ensued. I watched them wandering around, yelling frenetically, this slogan or that one. "U.S.A.! U.S.A.!" or "Stop the steal!" They destroyed benches, desks and chairs, walked away with lecterns under their arms, rifled through papers and generally acted like dogs pissing all over the furniture, in an effort to mask the scent of those in power and proclaim dominance over them.

The picture of a middle-aged, bearded yahoo, kicking back in the chair in the office of the speaker of the house, with his clodhopper boots casually planted on the government papers on her desk, is the perfect icon for this event. It was an expression of contempt for our government. (That man stole some of those papers off her desk, and it didn't take long for the police to find him.)

"Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which

no one will see the Lord."

Hebrews 12:14

A lot of selfies were taken and most likely uploaded to social media, where law enforcement can easily find them, if they care to do so. I was shocked that some officers were too few and too friendly with this violent mob, even after one of them was beaten to death by a Trumper wielding a heavy fire extinguisher.  Some of the officers took selfies with intruders inside the Capitol! Oh, boy. Recent reports are beginning to report on government officials and police officers having been involved in the melee inside the building, and people are losing their jobs as a result.

"But as He who has called you is holy, you also be holy in all 

your conduct, since it is written, "You shall be holy, 

for I am holy."

1 Peter 1:15-16

There is video of most of this attempted coup, and I have seen it all. But later I learned that five people died as a result of the insurrection. One of them was that police officer I mentioned. In the midst of carnage and death, there was a celebratory, carnival-level jocularity that was insane. One man jumped onto the pedestal of a statue of one of our former presidents that had been decorated with a protester's flag and some other junk so he could have his picture taken.

Outside, when reporters asked them what they hoped to achieve, the answers were incomprehensible. Some of them yelled, "This is OUR government!" One woman stumbled for a response and finally said, "We pay them. This is ours." A wild-eyed man inside the building yelled his response that was  something similar - that the Capitol belonged to him. Another said, "this is all we can do." It was an unfocused but violent and chaotic mob.

"Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by 

the renewal of your mid, that by testing you may discern 

what is good and acceptable

and perfect."

Romans 12:2

If they had intended to actually make a change in government, there would have been a focused plan of attack, a specific mission, with a target. But because their leader was cowering, in safety, at another property far away, nothing but anarchy could result.  I keep thinking about the plastic flex cuffs that bristled from the belt of a man dressed in tactical gear and wonder just how many Senators and Representatives he intended to handcuff with them and what he would do with them once they were captured and restrained. Thank God our people were safely harbored in a secure place, otherwise this could have been even worse.

It took hours for the military to arrive and quell the insurrection, a fact that is going to require a significant and far-reaching study and probably numerous prosecutions. MANY heads will roll by the time the investigations are concluded. There were some arrests on that day and early evening, but they were mostly arrests of people who violated the curfew after the rioters were ejected. For some inexplicable reason, the police allowed the violent protesters to leave the building without being taken into custody. I watched, in real time, as these traitors sauntered out the front door with smug looks on their faces. I could easily see their expressions because they weren't wearing masks in the middle of a pandemic. So, not only was this a terrorist attack against our government, it was a super-spreader event.

Earlier this summer, the police employed thousands of officers, fully equipped for a riot, to come down on PEACEFUL black protesters in the wake of the recent murder of a black man by officers (another horrifying murder preserved for posterity on videotape.) I saw these officers knock over elderly people, unarmed people, mothers and others. It was a nightmare. Then, too, there was the really harsh treatment of the peaceful protesters that Trump had violently pushed aside so that he could walk over to the nearby church and wave a Bible around so that he could get a good photograph taken for publicity purposes. Incredibly, he advertises himself as a "Christian." (I can barely type that sentence without my stomach tensing, the idea of Trump being a big Christian is so ridiculous.) But the white insurrectionists that came to hurt our government and who caused the deaths of 5 people, were allowed to wander out the front door of the Capitol building they had just trashed - with smiles on their faces.

"Therefore, prepare your minds for action, and being 

sober-minded, set your hope fully on the grace 

that will be brought to you at the revelation

of Jesus Christ. As obedient children, do not 

be conformed to the passions of your former 

ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, 

you also be holy in all your conduct, 

since it is written, 

"You shall be holy, for I am holy."

1 Peter 1:13-16

Since these events, our country has been in turmoil. Trump is reported to be raging, like a hurt and caged animal. Even after all this, he refuses to admit that he lost the election. He continues to spout ridiculous illogical and disproven conspiracy theories that have been rejected by a majority of the American people, by the election officials in every state (from both major parties), by the courts, and by the official electors. He is giving the appearance of someone who actually believes the yarn he has been spinning since before the election.

I wonder if he will ever realize that the conspiracy theories were never even close to being realistic and that he himself had been led down the garden path by dark characters in the shadows of the internet whose imaginations and twisted way of analyzing innocent events captured something very needy and craven within Trump's psyche. As malignantly narcissistic and evil as he has demonstrated himself to be, he is not even the architect of his own demise. I am betting that the people who created and promoted these absurd conspiracy theories and tried to "prove" those theories with transparently implausible, logistically impossible rationales, are pleased and surprised that their "influence" is so far reaching. Who knows if even they believe the nonsense they have manufactured and disseminated.

Today the Democrats, aided by Republicans who have not sold their souls to Trump, are trying to restore and strengthen our Democracy. Some Republicans who have aided and abetted this monster over the last 4 years are only now walking away - 12 days before the end of his tenure - probably so that they won't be associated with any insane thing he does between now and his ignominious exit. Some people are positing that they do not want to be in the position of having to vote about whether or not Trump should be removed. They're cowards - just like him.

The leader of the house, Nancy Pelosi, upon whose desk one of Trump's men had placed his jackboots, has announced that unless the vice president and others remove Trump from office with the 25th amendment, The House may impeach. There are discussions all over tv, in the newspapers and on the internet about which method (or both) may be appropriate because it is generally agreed that Trump is a dangerous, unhinged man that cannot be trusted not to create another crisis during the last 13 days. He has the nuclear codes, after all.

Whatever is done, I have been praying that cooler heads have found a way to restrain Trump and prevent him from acting in any capacity for the next 12 days. He has announced that he will not be present for the inauguration, but he has not issued any message to his followers that would deter them from attacking that event, at which our entire governmental edifice will be present. I hope to God that whoever was in charge of securing the Capitol is not the same person in charge of security for this event, otherwise our government is doomed because I feel sure that, given the ease with which these domestic terrorists were able to break into the Capitol and into the most sacred halls of democracy, and how smooth their exit, completely without consequences, they are certainly emboldened to continue in this vein, especially since Trump has continued to bleat his pathetic lies about the election being stolen from him, even during "his" announcement that was supposed to call off the dogs.

"Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, but those who act faithfully

are his delight."

Proverbs 12:22

I had previously vowed not to think much or write much about politics. After all, I reasoned, remember the politics of Jesus' day. There have always been cruel despots in power at various times in history - and Trump is just another one - but this is historic, and I feel that my diary would be inauthentic if I ignored it. It's just too big. While there have been plenty of events in the public sphere worth discussing in conversation - this event is one for the history books, so I am not going to be all precious and pretend it doesn't affect me. It does.

In stark contrast with today's political and societal atmosphere, the saint of the day for January 8th was a retiring fellow that we knew very little about until after his tomb was opened, a beautiful fragrance wafted from the grave and miracles began to occur when his name was invoked.

Saints - the real heroes - do not stoke the petty resentments and animosities of their admirers. In fact, they avoid admirers, if there is any way to do so. Their humility is a feature of their spiritual disciplines and a response to the humble nature of Jesus Himself.

"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me
for I am gentle and humble in heart and you
will find rest for your souls."
Matthew 11:29

SAINT THORFINN

Saint Thorfinn of Hamar, Norway

BISHOP

Saint Thorfinn was probably a Cistercian monk before being made bishop in medieval times. Along with several other priests, he was involved in negotiations with King Eric II of Norway, who was nicknamed "priest hater." We can imagine how he may have gotten that moniker! 

(As it happens, King Eric is another one of my "shirt tail relations, as he was married to my 2nd cousin, 24 times removed!)

King Eric II had repudiated the Tonsberg Concord that regulated issues between church and state, especially episcopal elections. Evidently, things got heated between King Eric II and the Archbishop, so he banished the archbishop and his two supporters, one of whom was Saint Thorfinn. With his "glamorous" and weighty work concluded, Thorfinn was happy to return to the state of a humble monk.

On the way to the Abbey of Ter Doest (near Bruges), Bishop Thorfinn encountered many difficulties, and was even shipwrecked, but evidently he took it all in stride and settled into his new life without complaint. It wasn't long before he died there, on this day in 1285.

His was a mind of equanimity, whether he was conversing with kings or commoners, bishops or monks. Becoming ill and sensing he was not long for the world, he made out his will, divided what little he had, and prepared for death, which came fairly soon thereafter.

Saint Thorfinn had not done anything to attract attention to himself during his time in the monastery, and he was soon forgotten, but something like 50 years after he died, his tomb was broken into in connection with some building project and that is how the "odor of sanctity" was perceived coming from his body.

An aged monk who had known Thorfinn in his youth recalled a man of gentle goodness and strength, so he wrote a poem about Thorfinn in Latin and it was hung over his tomb. In it, Saint Thorfinn is described as a kind patient generous monk, whose mild demeanor belied a strong will that stood solidly against anything that smacked of evil.

"He will not cry out or raise his voice,

Nor make his voice heard in the street."

Isaiah 42:2

There were miracles associated with his relics, people began to visit his tomb (which was later moved) and gradually he became one of Norway's few Catholic saints, and a very popular one. (Norway is not a big Catholic country.)

If Donald Trump had chosen a holy life marked by honesty, kindness, generosity and equanimity, as did today's Saint Thorfinn, the "eternal praise" he yearned for would have been his.

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom;

All who follow his precepts have good understanding.

To him belongs eternal praise."

May we all be blessed, and may out country be healed

Silver Rose