INSPIRATION FROM SAINT JOHN CHRYSOSTOM

 

Saint John Chrysostom

I have a lovely little red leather bound prayer book that I bought while attending a Ruthenian Byzantine Church, and I haven't looked at it once since I stopped attending that parish, and I wonder why, because it is precious, as in valuable. There are a number of carefully curated prayers, lists of holy things, simple instructions about how to do the different styles of fasting and abstinence, beautiful prayers to our Lady, the Most Holy Theotokos - all sorts of uplifting, and sometimes challenging offerings. I have decided to put it in my stack of favorite books - the books to which I refer daily. It just took me some time to get around to it. It was waiting for me. Kind of like God, I suppose, who waits for us to reach for Him.

While I was perusing it and admiring the beautiful gold-trimmed edges of each page, I found this comment on 2 Corinthians:

"Let no one then, even those who are come to the most
extreme wickedness, despair of himself. For even if you
have passed into the habit, yes and almost into the 
nature of wickedness itself, be not afraid...For he did
not simply say that He would wash us, but that He
would make us 'white as snow and as wool,' in order to
hold out good hopes before us. Great then is the power
of repentance, at least if it makes us as snow, and
whitens us as wool, even if sin has first gotten
possession and dyed out souls. Let us labor earnestly
then to become clean; He has enjoined nothing
burdensome."

I really love this quote because I often feel that I am one step behind everything that requires doing - especially during LENT. The physical pain and my newly acquired ungainly hobble frustrate me so that it is difficult, at times, to stay serene at prayer time. There are occasions when I feel an urgency to get it done NOW because I must put up my feet or I will collapse. It's frustrating, this tension that gets generated so easily. And then I wonder if the way I carry out my daily prayer schedule is as disappointing to Him as it is to me.

But then I read a short reminder like this one and I can breathe a sigh of happy relief because I am re-established in His Truth that He loves us and is not unduly testing us. Like the delighted Father that encourages the baby to walk to Him in its first steps on chubby little baby legs, He is not going to let us fall when we are struggling so earnestly to reach Him! Thank you, Lord, for giving us Saint John Chrysostom and the other holy ones who stand on the sidelines, urging us forward.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose

P.S. As some of you are aware, I am disabled, without family, and in three months, I will be 69 years old.  Social Security is about half of what I need to live, and every year I get further behind while the disabilities increase in number and severity. The car is a junk heap. Credit cards have piled up in a frustrating cycle of robbing Peter to pay Paul. For the last 20 years I have been unable to work (though I have tried various things and continue to slave over the novel and poetries.) Please consider donating to my paypal, above-right, or sending a little food from my Amazon wish list, below.  They have my address and can mail to me directly.

Just click HERE FOR FOOD DONATION

SAINT EDBURGA OF WINCHESTER - JUNE 15, 2022

 

Saint Edburga / Eadburh of Winchester

b. about 920, d. June 15, 960

My 31st great grandaunt

Today's saint is a great aunt of mine, the daughter of my 32nd great grandfather, Kind Edward I of England and his third wife, Eadgifu of Kent.

(I am descended from Edward and his first wife, Aelfflaed of Bernicia, whose daughter, Eadgifu of Wessex, was my 31st great grandmother. SHE was married to King Charless II "The Simple" of France, my 31st great grandfather.)

Edburga became a nun very early in life and is what is known as a popular "local saint," with several churches in her neighborhood dedicated to her. She was only 3 years old when she was given to the convent - something that would probably be considered a sort of child abuse in these days. They raised her and educated her, and she remained a nun for the entirety of her life.

There IS a fanciful story about King Edward placing the little tot on his lap and asking her to choose between some religious items and some frivolous jewelry - and she chose the religious items, which showed her aptitude and justified sending this BABY away to a convent.

She was credited with being a marvelous singer. Osbert's history, commissioned by the nuns of her convent, recounts that she was the "precentrix" there, which means that she was a type of female cantor and choir leader when the Office was chanted or sung. She would often remain long after the Divine Office was finished so that she could continue to pray quietly in private.

She loved to sing hymns and wore herself out in spiritual disciplines.

Well, thank you, dear aunt, for making us all feel completely inadequate!

Today I wore myself to the nubbins just getting myself and a neighbor to the local Walgreens to get our second Covid booster shots. It had been 10 months since I got my first one, and I did not want to run the risk of contracting Covid during this time when I am feeling particularly worn out.

I had to fold then lift my neighbor's walker into the back seat of my car, then help manage the lock on the passenger seat belt.

The asphalt of the store was vibrating with heat. When we got inside, I said to follow at a slow pace while I went to the pharmacy and announced our arrival. I had previously called and learned that we could just walk in and sign up for our vaccinations. 

I threw my cane into a cart and used it as MY walker,  as I made my way to the pharmacy, as my neighbor followed slowly after me. Eventually, they gave us each a clipboard. I finished mine and then did my neighbors as well, asking the questions on the form, one of which was "are you pregnant?" We had a laugh about that one.

They called  my neighbor in first, and in no time, it was done. Then I went in and chatted amiably with Alex, the really nice pharmacy employee. The two booster shots I have gotten at that pharmacy were much faster and less painful than the ones I receive from the people at the health department. I have to say I appreciate their technique!

Just getting my neighbor out of the car when we got home was almost impossible. It came close to my having to call 911 to get my neighbor out of the car and into the nearby apartment.

This is the last time I will be taking my neighbor with me on any errand because their  disabilities have reached a level where a personal assistant is needed, and I am just another disabled person. 

But I felt good that, despite the pain and exhaustion I was feeling, I had been able to do this last thing. After all, when you're suffering from Parkinson's, the last thing you need would be to get Covid, and I was happy that I was able to play a part in helping get this protection in place! However, doing this took a huge chunk out of my own day and my limited endurance, and I had already spent more than a dozen hours trying to get this person a medic alert bracelet which they now say they don't want. It is both an energy drain and highly frustrating.

When I finally shuffled back to my apartment, I fell asleep in my recliner for a couple hours. When I woke, I felt really awful. I couldn't even get out of the chair for some time and, in thinking of the events of today and the last few months, I felt disappointed that my life circumstances look so very different from the monastic life I had envisioned when I first became disabled. My life has devolved into a long struggle to survive and get ahead of the pain. It is one thing to "offer up" the pain and suffering, but one still has to overcome it to the extent necessary to perform the daily functions of life.

I realized I have to simply my life here at home and I have to start loving my neighbor in a less physical and more spiritual manner. God will show me the way.

May we all be blessed!

Silver Rose
Sannyasini Kaliprana

Silver Cottage Hermitage

P.S. All of the blog posts I write are independently researched and written by me and all of them are protected by legal copyright and may not be copied for any purpose by any person for any reason, so please just enjoy them here and leave them here where you found them.

(c) Copyright 2022, Silver S. Parnell

All rights reserved.

No copying for any purpose by anyone is allowed.

ADJUSTABLE BED AND OTHER BIG GIRL FURNITURE NEEDED

I came to New Mexico with only what I could fit in my little Toyota, thinking I could replace my furniture when I started working, but very soon after I got here, I became completely disabled and my Social Security is not enough to purchase furniture.

A friend from church gave me a recliner that I have been sleeping in for a couple of years, and a pink leather couch that I just love - but I desperately need a real bed that adjusts for my painful disabilities, as well as some furniture on which to work, write and paint and in which to store art supplies, paints, yarn, etc.

There is a neighbor in my complex who I can pay to put together the furniture. He used to do it professionally, lucky for me.

I have picked out the least expensive options that would work in my apartment. Amazon has my address and will ship to me direct.

Please take a look at my DONATION WISH LIST HERE

If you cannot afford any of the items on the list, but you would like to donate, please click on the PAYPAL DONATION LINK, to the right.

You know, most of my life I spent in a very minimalist style, living mainly on the floor, but I will be 65 this year, and I can't get up off the floor, once I get down there - so it's time to live like a grownup, don't you think?

God bless us all, and thank you.

Silver Rose

I WAS DISCRIMINATED AGAINST BY SMITHS MARKET EMPLOYEE

Yesterday, I stopped by Smith's Food on Constitution and Carlisle in Albuquerque. All of the handicap parking spots were taken. Several of the cars parked in those spots were not exhibiting any handicap placard or license plate. The lot was jam packed, and I was in too much pain to walk from the faraway spots that were available. I resolved to return the next day at an earlier time.

Today, I drove back to that market at about 10:40 a.m.  Again, the lot was packed, and handicap spots were few and far between, with all but one occupied. I noticed a trim and energetic young woman park in the spot reserved for pregnant ladies next to the handicap spot I was able to get, and then RUN into the market.  She was dressed in exercise gear. She had dark curly hair and appeared to be about 30 years old, or a bit younger. I called out to her but she ignored me. It reminded me that I had intended to speak to someone at Smith's about the parking situation for handicapped people.

I noticed two Smiths employees standing outside the market, apparently shooting the breeze. Perhaps they were on a break. One was very tall and of stocky build, with gray or blonde hair. The other was shorter, with dark hair.

Approaching them, I asked politely, "hey, do you guys ever keep track of the non-handicapped people using handicap parking? I see people using handicap parking all the time."

The tall man, with a derisive look on his face, said to me, "I believe in Trump's law. If you don't have two arms cut off or two legs, you're not handicapped."

The other man appeared to be somewhat uncomfortable by the tall man's comments. He shuffled his feet and avoided my gaze.

I said to the tall man, "Well, that's a mean comment!"

Still with an arrogant attitude, a cruel smirk on his face, he said, "There's too many of you." He continued to talk about how Trump feels about the topic of disabled people.

I asked him how we are supposed to get our shopping done. He said that we WOULDN'T.

His meaning was clearly communicated to me. He is one of those people that thinks that all disabled people are living off the dole and that we are sissies and not deserving of any kindness. CLEARLY he does not agree with the Americans with Disabilities Act, which is the law of the land, not some imaginary law of Trump.

His comments and hostile manner made my PTSD blow up. My heart started racing. I felt frightened, in danger, and prompted to FLEE.

As I left, I said to the man, "go back to Russia!" and I went into the store as fast as I could, given my limping, pained body. I would have gone directly to the manager, had the place not been exploding with people and had I not been suffering with a full blown PTSD attack which I was working on tamping down. I decided to report the incident later.

This blog is just the start.

Trump mocking the gestures of a disabled person

When Trump mocks disabled people in his speeches, he is mocking me. When he makes derogatory comments about the relative attractiveness of women, calling them "dogs" or "fat pigs," he is talking about me. When he brags about grabbing women "by the pussy" without their permission, he is talking about me. When he discounts the suffering of the disabled, he is talking about me, and when he likewise promotes the idea that poor people are worthless and criminally minded and a drain on society, he is ALSO talking about me. These lies that he spreads about the vulnerable classes filter down to cads like that guy at Smiths who treated me with CONTEMPT.

Trump has proposed and managed to effect many government measures that make the lives of disabled people much more difficult.  In addition to public policies, his lies and demeaning comments about vulnerable people, the disabled, the marginalized, women, the poor DO impact my life and the lives of other disabled people by emboldening his followers to feel entitled to bully us.

I am constantly being assaulted by Trump's ideas. My life has been rendered MUCH more difficult than it already is. People who are supposed to be giving me service treat me, not as a valuable customer, but as an unworthy person. They feel entitled to diminish me, mock me and hurt me; physically, financially and psychologically. My rights are continually being abridged or dispensed with entirely.

"When you give a crazed crying lowlife a break,

and give her a job at the White House, I guess it

just didn't work out. Good work by General Kelly

for quickly firing that dog."

~ Donald Trump, disparaging former female appointee

All of these indignities are being perpetrated against me while I am in awful pain, the inconvenience of which is compounded by mobility issues.

That stupid Smith's employee does not have x-ray vision. He cannot see that the valves of the major vein in my left leg DO NOT WORK. He cannot see that the valves DO NOT PUMP THE BLOOD THROUGH MY LEG and that, the longer I am standing upright, the more critical this issue becomes. The blood pools in my feet and ankles. The leg falls asleep and I gradually become more and more pale because of the improper distribution of blood. Often, if I stand for too long, I come close to fainting. I am not missing any of my limbs, but I might as well be, considering the effect.

That Smith's employee cannot see my scoliosis, or the fact that my left leg is shorter than the right, and that my right arm is longer than the left. He cannot know about the Ehler's Danlos type syndrome that affects all the collagen-based structures in my body, making me weaker than the typical person and more likely to fall and break bones, which I have done many times in my life. At this very moment, I am recovering from a break in a knuckle of my right hand, which became chipped when I fell. The x-ray showed a piece of bone, wedged in my muscles, causing me constant pain and reduced function. That Smith's employee cannot see any of that.

He cannot see that there is very little cushion between the bones of all my joints. When my doctor saw the x-rays, years ago, he said to me, "no wonder you're in so much pain." The doctors rely upon x-rays and other tests to diagnose me, but that Smith's employee thinks that his eyeballs are superior.

That Smith's employee perfectly demonstrated the gross and barbaric stupidity of many of Trump's supporters, who rely upon prejudiced and limited observations instead of facts. I had all my arms and legs, so I was therefore not disabled in his eyes. When he said, "there are too many of you," he was making reference to the Trumpian idea that most disabled people do not deserve the moniker, that we are faking it, that we have larcenous hearts and just looking to take advantage of more deserving citizens who work for a living, dammit.

Forget that I worked and supported myself for more than 30 years, that I am living on my Social Security insurance into which I paid money for everything I earned during 32 years. Forget that it is extremely difficult to retire early on your Social Security income because the Social Security doctors have strict standards of disability, and typically make you wait YEARS before approving you because the standards are so high and they make you jump through so many hoops!

Ignorant but opinionated people like that Smith's employee, who know nothing of the process, spread the rumor that all you need to do is lie about being disabled and "the government" just hands you money. When that man retires on HIS Social Security, he'll think nothing of it. He will think that it is somehow different than MY Social Security, that he "deserves" it but I don't.

Fortunately, the law is on my side, and I must have some kind of recourse. I'll let you know how it works out. In the meantime, perhaps it is best to stay away from Smith's Market in Albuquerque, at the corner of Constitution and Carlisle

UPDATE:

I called and spoke to the manager, Elena Sharbutt, who could not have been nicer. She too was shocked by the comments of that employee and assured me that those comments were unacceptable and do not represent the policies of Smith's. Several times during the conversation, she emphasized that I am a valuable customer and that Smith's wants me to enjoy my shopping experience. She was very warm and gracious, in addition to being efficient. She said she will look at the video. I told her the approximate time of the conversation and other pertinent details. We will talk again later, and I will keep you updated.

Silver Rose

EHLERS-DANLOS SYNDROME - THE CAUSE OF A HUNDRED MYSTERIES - Updated July, 2024)

Silver S. Parnell

2020

Age 66

NO ONE HAS X-RAY VISION

This is one of those posts that I write, not for myself, but for the thousands of people I represent. I hope to encourage people not to judge the sufferings of others by simply looking at the person. No one has x-ray vision. No one can miraculously feel the pain that is being endured by any other person, especially in a world in which people are punished for expressing pain and suffering, and many of us put on a brave face and a smile, just to keep from being criticized harshly.

Just the other day, I  told a neighbor of a difficulty I was having, in response to her question about how I was doing. Instead of being sympathetic and understanding, she got on her soap box and started lecturing me about how I should not feel this pain, how I should pretend I have no suffering, and how I should not tell anyone the truth.

This is so tedious.

BUT PEOPLE WILL JUDGE

There is much advice from judgmental folk that advocates for putting on a sunny face, but the majority of the Biblical injunctions when dealing with suffering say that we are to be sympathetic, to be loving, to be like Jesus. Jesus said to serve one another. He said to treat one another as we would wish to be treated. The Old Testament advised us to rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those that mourn.

No one wants to be lectured when they are in pain. No one wants or needs advice when we are depressed or hurting, but we live in a judgmental, selfish world. It is SO much easier to criticize the pain of other people than it is to do anything to help alleviate it. 

OLDER THAN I LOOK

I write about my personal experiences so that you all my extrapolate my experiences to include those of millions of American sufferers of a mostly hidden, inherited disease.

My whole adult life, people have been telling me that I look very young for my age. The other day, my bathing assistant reacted with great surprise when I told her my age. Many people would be thrilled with this state of affairs, but looking young for one's age CAN be the sign of a little-known syndrome called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (named after the researchers who pinned this down. I wish scientists wouldn't do this. It just makes it difficult on all those of us who have to wrap our mouths around the name. Why didn't they call this super bendy disease or circus girl syndrome.)

IDLE CURIOSITY OR IDLE JUDGMENT?

Many people have expressed curiosity about my disability status. I think part of the curiosity (which, in some people, is actually judgmental suspicion in nicer clothes) is that I just don't LOOK like I am disabled. I look great, apart from being fluffier than what is fashionable in this era, but you can't see pain, you can't see fatigue, you can't see the mutated genes or the multiple body parts that are composed of collagen, which is malfunctioning, due to the mutations.

LOTS OF BROKEN BONES

When I was about 9, I was standing in a field, watching some other kids play baseball. I had been standing too long when I started to feel a sudden increase of weakness in my knees and ankles. This wasn't new to me. I'd been dealing with persistent fatigue and loose joints my whole life. Usually, I would sit down at this point, but there was nowhere to go.

Mom, I need to sit down," I said to my mother, tugging on her shirtsleeve. A diffident woman who never liked me much, she just looked at me and made a face. My ankles gave way and I fell to the ground. I broke my elbow that time. In the next few years, I would go on to break the metatarsal bones in my left foot 5 times, wearing a cast on my foot each time. That foot is a different size and width from my other foot today, and because it is longer than the right foot, I have a hammer toe that happened overnight, it seems to me.

I was 13 before I had enough control over my muscles to know how to avoid the fatigue and falling that the bendy tendons, ligaments, and the rest of the connective tissue structures would cause. We were a long time away from learning about this rare condition, and I didn't really put conscious effort into getting control of my body. It is just one of those things that you DO when you inhabit human form. When you're a kid, you learn to ride that thing.

NOT DESTINED FOR THE CATWALK

I am not sure why I ended up being one of the sufferers of EDS and related genetic disorders. I just remember eating the same or less than my sister. She was skinny. I was tubby. It was weird. Losing weight has always been particularly challenging, as I have to practically starve myself to pare down, and the weight comes right back on my frame, with seemingly little effort.

Because of the loose joints, due to overly stretchy and "double" joints, I was never able to wear heels. I was overjoyed when Birkenstocks became popular. They are very expensive, however, and many of the styles do not fit me because of my wide forefoot.

Because of the foot issues, the style of clothing I could wear was dictated by the Birkenstock shoes. I had to be REAL creative about it. Sometimes I could find men's boots that came in wide enough sizes to fit me, so for a long time, I wore pants and cowboy boots or jodhpurs. This suited me fine when I was riding 4 hours a day in boarding school. But I can also remember hand cutting and sewing "maxi dresses" to the floor, made from Indian cotton fabric, printed in paisleys.

The entire trajectory of my life was determined by my wonky feet and my hypermobility spectrum disorder. I couldn't have changed much about it. Thank goodness I had some modesty and preferred to dress with some actual clothes, rather than the sky-high heels and short dresses that became popular at the waning of the hippie era.

SHAKE YOUR TAIL FEATHERS

I began working when I was 11, in 1965, but in my 30's, most of you will remember that I was a religious, where I was a nun, searching for peace, in a Hindu convent (which is where I read about Jesus and became converted to Him!) While cooking one day, I fell right on my tailbone and cracked it but good, smack dab on the hard Mexican tiles. With the already existing scoliosis at the hip, previously broken tailbone, and chronic back trauma, I was in terrible shape. In fact, I had to be scooted around in a wheelchair which, evidently, the other nuns really resented because the head of the convent went to the Swami in charge and told him that I was "faking it," in her words. She knew nothing, of course, and hadn't so much as questioned me or the doctors, nor had she seen the X-rays that clearly showed the multiple issues. I suppose she thought I looked just fine and decided I was "malingering."

In the Catholic faith, gossip is actually a collection of different sins. In these circumstances, it would be considered a "mortal" sin. The Vedantists don't believe in sin, however. Lucky break for those nuns because my name was in their mouths far too often. I used to think I was especially despised by them, and it puzzled me, because I loved them. But, many years later, I now know that women just gossip. Nearly every woman I have ever met has been a gossip - except my friend Jane and a small handful of people who keep their own counsel.

I left that convent, just positive that I was going to find a lovely Catholic community. All I had to do was find a Catholic Church, join the RCIA class, get baptized, and I would be golden.  But people are people everywhere

One of the Ehlers-Danlos websites pointed out this tendency of others to judge harshly those who are afflicted with this syndrome, as looks can be deceiving and some people really DO prefer to judge a book by its cover. Although EDS and related genetic disorders are not curable, I feel wonderful knowing that I am vindicated, after years of people treating me unkindly as a result of this illness.

LOOKING GOOD AND FEELING BAD

The pain of EDS and related genetic disorders, in particular, is far greater than what one would expect upon examination of the x-rays of the osteo-arthritis that shows up rather early in life. That is because only part of the pain is related to the bone-on-bone pain of the arthritis itself. Some of it stems from muscular stress and injury caused by the muscles having to do the work that ligaments and tendons are supposed to be doing. Some of it is caused by the syndrome itself, which is somewhat related to fibromyalgia. There are new studies on the pain aspect of EDS, and more news should be coming up about that aspect fairly soon, I would bet. The related hypermobility spectrum disorder will be affected, as well, I would think.

DEPRESSION

Depression is also one of the symptoms, though it does not appear to be situational, but rather a chemical function arising out of the mutations of the genes that cause this illness.  I read an article recently that was too far above my comprehension. Something about brain chemistry was discussed in relation to the depression. It is not the typical depression, and I think that there may be some specific anti-depressants that would be called for, under these circumstances. FORTUNATELY, I am able to fight the depression with prayer and meditation. It doesn't "fix" it, but I am remarkably cheerful, considering everything I endure.

During the course of my reading about Ehlers-Danlos and related genetic syndromes, I began to learn about the lesser-known presentations in some forms of this disease, I felt like I was making check marks on a looooong list of weird physical symptoms that had hounded me my entire life, starting in early childhood.

DENTAL MALFORMATIONS

A high palate and "crowded teeth" are another common feature of those with EDS, and I have that as well! When I was a child, they wanted to pull 4 teeth to solve the crowding issue.

SIX VERSIONS OF EDS

My doctor and I are still comparing notes between my symptoms and the research. We have not pinned down WHICH version I have, because testing was not available at the time my hypermobility spectrum disorder was diagnosed, but it appears obvious that, of the 6 different types of EDS, I seem to have the most common form of it, the hypermobility type, which is being called hypermobility spectrum disorder at this time. I could also have another version that involves the heart, but funding for the genetic testing was not available when I went to see the specialist for my EDS.  Hypermobility spectrum disorder is "less severe" which probably accounts for the long time in which it has taken for me to be diagnosed. I've always known there was something, in particular, that was wrong with me....something that would explain the physical problems that have caused me such pain and inconvenience my whole life, but I don't think that the doctors have been terribly interested in diagnosing. These days, it seems that medicine has to be fixated on dealing with the symptoms, since insurance companies pressure doctors to handle many more patients than is probably good for us.

Frankly, my diagnosis was fueled entirely by my curiosity and the fact that I am an experienced researcher. I was motivated and just happened to hit upon the right websites. Once my doctor was alerted to my symptoms dating back to childhood, however, he jumped right on board. We are all happy to have an explanation of my complaints.

YOGA MASTER

My experience of EDS was initially "tipped off" by extreme double-jointedness in my whole body. Even though I am in my 60's, I am still really bendy! I can bend over and touch my palms to the floor without bending my knees. Makes for a great showing in a yoga class, but can lead to lots of sprains, strains, falls and breaks, which is what I had my entire life, starting in early childhood.

If you have EDS or hypermobility spectrum disorder, DON'T do yoga!  That's the worst type of exercise you can do. Strength training and aerobics are OK, especially the strength training, because your muscles have to make up for what your tendons can't do.

CLUMSY KID

Children with EDS or hypermobility spectrum disorder are often accused of being "clumsy," and that is because they have not yet developed the motor skills necessary to take over where the tendons and ligaments are loose. Even today, I have to move slowly and do all my physical activities very deliberately, otherwise, I am prone to tripping, falling, dropping things, and breaking many items.

Before I was 5 years old, I remember my parents calling the doctor to come out to the house in the middle of the night because I was having terrible pain in both legs, starting from the hips on down. The doctor diagnosed them as "growing pains," but now I read on various EDS websites that many sufferers of this disease have those awful leg pains as children. The explanation is that the effort needed by the muscles to take over for what the ligaments and tendons are supposed to do causes terrible muscular pains and spasms.

ARTHRITIS AND ALLERGIES

(Asthma and multiple allergies are also common in people with EDS. I remember the doctor coming out to the house for THOSE issues also.)

My tendons, cartilage, ligaments and all the other things that are supposed to hold my joints together are unreliable and let me just fall where I may. I remember once when I was about 10, I was standing in the back yard, just watching other kids playing, when my left ankle gave way and I fell to the ground, breaking my right elbow.

SUPER BENDY DISEASE AND PURPLE VEINS

By the time I was 11, I'd had 5 casts on my left foot, having broken numerous bones from falling as a result of my ankle just giving way. At the same time, I developed severe varicose veins before the age of 13. I have had MANY sprains and strains of my ankles, which is common with EDS and with the hypermobility spectrum disorder.

NARROW HEELS AND FLAT FEET

I've never been able to find shoes with any ease, since I had bunions while still very young, extremely wide feet with narrow heels, and flat feet. The collagen-based structures could not hold my feet together in the way that they do in normal people.

BRUSH YOUR TEETH CAREFULLY

Likewise, nothing could hold my spine in place when I was brushing my teeth too vigorously one morning when I was about 24 years old, and my back went into horrific spasms. I missed at least a week of work and was put on strong muscle relaxers.

I CAN'T STAND THIS JOB

The veins in my leg, in addition to being varicose, also have defective valves that cannot push the blood back up to the heart. Consequently, I've never been able to hold a job that involved any standing. In my early 20's, I got a job at Nordstrom's in a mall in Los Angeles. I was excited about getting a 40% discount off any clothes I would buy, but I only lasted 4 days. My job should not have been physically taxing for a young, thin, and "apparently" healthy woman, but it caused me extreme pain in my legs and hips and, by the end of those 4 days, I became bedridden and stayed there for more than a week!

JUST LIKE MY DAD

One of my legs is longer than the other, not by much, but this was confirmed by more than one chiropractor. My father had the same problem. This brings up the fact that this disease is inherited from one's parent or parents.

BUILT LIKE A SPIDER

Purchasing clothing has always been particularly difficult, especially when trying to buy pants because my extremities are too long for my torso. This is quite common. Usually, the fingers are also very long, but I did not inherit that aspect. I am really tired of my arms popping out of the sleeves of all my shirts and my pants looking like I am going to a flood. In the early 1970's, you used to be able to buy all sorts of slacks and blue jeans that were not hemmed because some women were wearing sky-high platform shoes, I suppose.

Due to a very short torso, not only are the pant legs too short, but the "waist" of all pants rides up to my arm pits...just one of the several reasons that I prefer to wear dresses, rather than pants. "Maxi dresses" are never long enough, though. If they fit in the bodice, they're at least 4 inches too short in the length. This is really inconvenient because I am keen to hide all those ugly varicose and spider veins.

I DON'T SEE WHAT THE PROBLEM IS

When I was 10 years old, I was reading my mother's library of books. My parents never bothered to buy us children's books. I was reading Shakespeare's complete works and Somerset Maugham and O'Henry, but at school I was getting D's. It was decided that my vision was the problem, so my mother took me to the optometrist who asked me, "read the top letter on the eye chart."

I said, "What eye chart?"

It turns out that, due to the fact that the human eye is made almost entirely of collagen, people with EDS are often extremely nearsighted, with multiple astigmatisms, floaters and cataracts. Operating on the cataracts may not be recommended, however, due to poor wound healing. Also, I have macular degeneration, from which I have already become blind in one eye. Without glasses, I am legally blind and have been since a child.

FOUR EYES ARE NOT ENOUGH

I must wear glasses constantly, changing from one version to another, to accommodate different vision issues, depending on whether I am reading, writing, watching television, going outside in the sun. It is extremely important to protect my eyes from all glare and sunshine so I never have to make a decision about whether or not to have surgery on my eyes.

My eyeglasses HAVE to have adjustable nose bridges because, like many EDS sufferers, I have an extremely narrow bridge. For some, their entire nose is quite skinny. I can't take advantage of the low-cost eyeglasses that are advertised on television all the time, as they're all plastic, and even the little eyeglass patches with adhesive on them won't keep the plastic glasses from sliding down to the tip of my nose.

WAKING UP DURING SURGERY

Local anesthesia often doesn't work on people with EDS, something that doesn't surprise me at all, but which surprised the last dentist I saw, many years ago. By the time he finished shooting me with novacaine, the first shot had already worn off. After that experience, I had to get all my work done with a dental surgeon who would put me out.

Last year, I had surgery on one of my fingers. There was a growth that turned out to be benign. The anesthesiologist refused to believe that local anesthesia does not work for me, and dismissed my constant complaints with a paternal, condescending manner. I ended up waking up twice during surgery! The anesthesiologist's resident, not expecting me to wake and see what he was doing, was reading his email on his telephone! I told him, "Hey! I'm awake! Put me back to sleep!"  He did so, without a glance in my direction or an apology.

While the written post-surgery directions told me that I wouldn't have use of my arm until many hours after surgery, my use and function on that arm was completely normal when I woke from surgery (for the last time.) At the time of this surgery, I was unaware of EDS. My negative experiences with this surgery could have been alleviated, had I known.

FACE CREAM NOT NECESSARY

There are some dermatological signs in EDS, and I have very slight presentations in this regard. Soft, velvety skin is one sign. Super stretchy skin is another, which I did not not seem to have when I was younger, but as I edit this blog in 2024, the super-stretchy skin has appeared, especially now that I have lost at least 40 pounds since writing this post.) An odd type of scar formation is present in many, and I have a bit of this, having somewhat delicate skin. I STILL have a scar from a slight injury on my tricycle when I was 5 years old. These scars tend to widen and whiten. They're called cigarette paper scars.

Scoliosis is common in EDS. I have that as well as sciatic issues, which is equally common.

FAINTING SPELLS

A tendency to faint is another symptom, as is fatigue, especially when one adopts a position for too long of a time. Like sharks, we must keep moving.

For the last month, I have been suffering from incessant vertigo, dizziness, a feeling of faintness, fatigue and sleepiness. This is why the nurses have been coming to care for me, as well as an attendant, who helps me bathe. Some day soon, I hope to have a housekeeper who may cook, clean and take me on errands. AFFORDING it may be an issue, though I am pleading for assistance through Medicare. We shall see what they say. (UPDATE: 2024 - I was approved for a Medicaid waiver for the aged and disabled. So far, they have provided me with an electric wheelchair and a part-time attendant.)

A scooter is also a piece of equipment that I will be needing immediately, as is a large bendable bed for the bendy hermit. Though Medicare MAY pay for portions of these items, I will need to pay portions of it. (UPDATE, 2024: I am now in an electric wheelchair any time I have to walk more than a few feet.)

MOVE TO ANOTHER LOCATION IS URGENTLY NECESSARY

I also need to move to a hermitage that addresses my physical and spiritual needs, ESPECIALLY since my current Landlord is hostile toward the disabled and has given me a terrible time with regard to reasonable accommodations that I need in order to function. (UPDATE, 2024: Managers keep telling me that "it isn't fair" for me to have anything that other residents do not have, completely ignoring fair housing regulations. At this time they are removing my parking from in front of my garage to give it to able-bodied construction workers for their convenient parking.)

Anyone able to help financially, please click on the DONATION button on the top, right-hand side of this blog.

HOME SWEET HOME

All others, I beg for your prayers. Please ask for a small house with its own fenced yard for the service dog, very close to the church which our Lord wishes me to attend; a car with a lift meant for the transport of my electric wheelchair; new eyeglasses; and dental work.

The three sets of eyeglasses that I need will cost half a month's income. Obviously, this is beyond my capacity.

There is no cure for Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome or the related syndromes, but pain and other issues may be addressed. I have faith in your prayers.

Anyone wishing to gather more information about Ehlers-Danlos, please refer to THE EHLERS-DANLOS SOCIETY

God bless us all.

Silver Rose

(c) Copyright 2017

All rights reserved.

THE POOR DON'T OWE YOU ANYTHING

If an American makes $50,000 a year, he or she will pay about seven (7) dollars per year into the welfare system that supports the indigent on the bottom third of the poverty spectrum.

An in-depth analysis of the facts and statistics was done very nicely HERE on the blog Soapboxie. There are numerous other sources on the internet that echo this information, but I like the charts that this author provides, as well as the way he explains them. Very nice work, on his part.

In return for that seven dollars, a great number of tax payers are exceedingly interested in the activities of that person who receives that seven (7) dollars. They have a lot of opinions about what the poor, disabled and vulnerable should do in exchange for that tiny bit of assistance, and most of those opinions are damn mean.

In addition, the ratio of amount of assistance given, compared to the amount of control some people want over the recipients, would be hysterical if it weren't so sad. To be so focused on the money that drizzles into the pockets of the poor, while the corporate robber barons are emptying our bank accounts just doesn't make any sense.

Jesus would be appalled.

I do not receive any welfare, since I live on the Social Security that accumulated after working more than 33 years, but I very occasionally receive a donation on this blog. The cost of bringing internet into the home far exceeds the pittance I receive in donations, on a year by year basis. (I had hoped that the blog would at least pay for itself but unfortunately, it does not. I refuse to junk up my page with ads from marketers, however. I figure that, at the very least, I can give my readers a respite from the constant flow of sales pitches by corporations that they have to endure on every other page they access.)

Of the very few who donate, most are extremely kind. Others, in the guise of kindness, will assail me with a barrage of unsolicited "advice" that is not only unnecessary, but would also be insulting, if I was inclined toward that sort of response.

Although I have no choice as to whether or not I will be poor, the vast majority of monastics throughout time have been poor by choice and by chance. Ideally, it is a chosen thing, a sacrifice made for God. Even if poverty is thrust upon a monastic by circumstance, we are encouraged to embrace it. When poverty impinges upon the ability of the monastic to perform his or her functions, measures have to be taken to alleviate it. Poverty, in its essence, is not a "good" thing, but a tool in the hands of the spiritual aspirant.

Consequently, most monasteries rely upon a combination of donations and some type of work of the hands that they may sell. Whether it is coffee, candies, rosaries or liquor, most monastics have to produce something for sale in order to survive. In days gone by, most monasteries and convents survived by gifts alone, but modern times find us with far fewer devoted Christians who understand the value of what the monastic "produces" by his or her presence and prayers. Sadly, Westerners are capitalists first and Christians second, in most cases.

Being disabled and gradually becoming more so, I do not have the capacity to produce anything to any meaningful extent, which is why I have a donation request on my front page. Still, there are people who will insist upon gifting me with their opinion of what I must do to produce something worthy of payment. It is exhausting, especially since they fail to observe that I am already doing something worthy.

After trying, and failing, to get me to live under her rule, a recent small donor has gone off in a huff and unfollowed my blog. A relative who gave me a television similarly subjected me to an overbearingd brow-beating. Another who sent me a book a year or two ago erupted into a tirade of name-calling and public excoriation because I will not vote for her political candidate. Unfortunately, these people felt entitled to control my actions after contributing an extremely small amount to the household. People complain that the poor feel entitled, but my experience of life is the opposite. It is those who give with big strings attached who have a sense of entitlement.

The Bible tells us to invite those persons to our banquets who cannot afford to return a similar invitation. I definitely cannot afford to turn my life over to those who give me a few dollars. I have already given that life to God, and it is not for sale.

I have vacillated back and forth about whether or not to continue the blog or if I should dedicate the time spent writing it to some other endeavor. For the time being, I will keep it, because there are more than a few readers who tell me that their condition mirrors mine and that they receive encouragement and grace from my words.

Just as Jesus used parables to instruct, I offer the small circumstances of my life as an example that can be extrapolated to an understanding of the conditions of the poor, disabled and discarded in America, in order to rouse love in the hearts of those who denigrate the poor, and to support the faithful Christian in whom love already flows but who suffers from living in a hostile angry world.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose Parnell

DISABLED AMERICANS BAMBOOZLED BY SMOKE AND MIRRORS

Today I read in the Albuquerque Journal that, unless Congress acts quickly, disabled Americans will experience a 19% reduction in their disability benefits in 2016.  This is a huge cut in an income that is already too sparse to meet all the needs of the disabled, whose medical expenses (including assistive devices and over-the-counter aids) are typically much higher than the average person.

In addition to this possible cut, two things are in the pipeline to happen for Social Security recipients in 2016:

(1)  Medicare premiums will rise by at least $54.00 per month (for some recipients); and,
(2)  NO cost-of-living increase will be given to anyone.

What does this mean for me personally?  If the cut goes into effect, I will be receiving $304 a month less than I did in 2015. (I am not in line for the steep increase to my Medicare premium, I am told, because my income is too low.)  Even so, I am in danger of losing almost a quarter of my entire income!  Already, I don't have enough money to meet my needs.  I have two friends helping me with food and other necessaries, when they are able.  I have NO luxuries.  No television.  No travel. No alcohol, drug or tobacco use.

I worked for more than 30 years and had no idea that the Social Security fund I paid into for all those years would yield such a poor return that it would plunge me into poverty.  Of course, I had no idea I would become disabled, either.  No one does.  One would think that Social Security would at least provide the basics of life; food, shelter, medical needs, transportation, clothing, etc. etc., but it doesn't.

The Journal article (link below) mentions that Rand Paul, in typical fashion, is maligning the disabled by saying that a lot of us are "slackers."  It is a horrible slur to make about a vulnerable class of people, a slur that is both untrue and unchristian.  Having endured the circus of obtaining disability benefits, I can tell you that it isn't easy.  You can't just get a doctor to send a note to Social Security saying that you are disabled!  Social Security has their OWN doctors who have a vested interest in ferreting out fakers.  Just as in any group of people, you WILL find liars and cheats in a tiny percentage.  Politicians like Rand Paul inflate a tiny issue and brandish it vigorously in our faces so they can bamboozle with bologna.  Casting aspersions on the character of the disabled is just another ploy to protect the millionaires from having to pay their fair share.

Lackeys of the Koch Brothers and other billionaires are feeding us this line of crap about how Social Security is going broke because of the poor, the disabled, the elderly, the immigrants.  It is a HUGE lie.

With all this chatter about Social Security and how broke it is, there is almost no mention whatsoever of the most glaringly obvious "fix" for the problem.  At the moment, individuals only pay Social Security tax on their first $110,100 in income (some sites say $106,800.)  This is called the "cap" on Social Security tax.

What this means in practical terms is that the wealthy pay less than a tiny fraction of a percentage of their income into Social Security while the wage earner typically pays 4.2% (or about 8% if self-employed.)  This is not equitable, particularly since Social Security is not a "needs based" program. Wealthy people have no qualms about taking their full Social Security benefits when they reach the retirement age, so why not pay the same percentage into it as we do?

If we removed the cap on Social Security contributions, we would have enough Social Security funds to last until the sun burns out.  Why aren't we doing this?  Why aren't we even TALKING about it?

The government is too busy trying to daze us with smoke and mirrors.  Just as in THE WIZARD OF OZ, there is a guy behind the curtain pulling all the levers and pushing all the buttons that make the smoke billow into the air.

The bloated, gaseous guy behind the curtain is the billionaire "wizard" who donates millions of dollars into superpacs to elect political candidates that will do his bidding.  He and his cronies do not want to pay their fair share into the system, so they pay their glorified go-fers to generate a flurry of misinformation into the atmosphere that pumps up the issue with lies and then blames the problems on the poor, the disabled, the elderly and the illegal alien...anyone but the real culprits - the wealthy who are gaining unjust enrichment at the expense of the poor.

Preferential treatment of the rich was not the original intention of our tax system.  On the Vanderbuilt University website, I learned that:

"When our income tax system started, it was supposed to

be a tax on success," said Beverly Moran, a professor of

law and sociology and a leading tax scholar.  "Only 2

percent of people in the country were ever supposed to

file, and only 1 percent were supposed to pay."

 http://news.vanderbilt.edu/2015/03/four-ways-to-improve-u-s-tax-system/

Vanderbilt Research agrees that the cap on Social Security taxes should be lifted and that 3 other measures should be taken.  Here is their list:

"1.  Integrate the taxes on gifts, estates, income, corporations and shareholder-level income into one overall tax, int he process eliminating loopholes used by wealthy people to avoid paying taxes.

2.  Equalize the tax rates between ordinary income and capital against income, instead of taxing capital gains at a lower rate.

3.  Remove the cap on Social Security taxes, so that high-income people continue to pay the tax on all their income.

4.  Decrease pressure on the IRS to audit poor people."

It is WELL PAST TIME that we open a few windows and clear the air.  The horrific disparity of income between the top and the bottom of the socio economic field has been accomplished by bestowing unreasonable tax breaks on the rich.  Meanwhile, the wages of the working man have stalled since the early 1970's.  Lately, the oppression of the poor, elderly, and disabled and the slander against them is a national shame, and a humiliating nightmare for the poor, especially those who spent many years contributing to society, working, and paying into a culture that now spreads hateful lies about them.

I don't know what to do, other than write this blog, but who knows how long I can continue to do it, given that my income may be cut by almost 25% in a few short months.  That would be convenient for the wealthy cheats.  The fewer poor people with access to the internet, the better for that wizard behind the curtain.  He can continue blowing all that hot air and smoke up your noses.

Silver Rose Parnell
(c) 2015

Pertinent Links:

Report: Social Security disability fund to run dry next year

Petition to remove the cap on Social Security contributions

Top ten lies about Social Security

Four ways to improve the U.S. Tax System - Vanderbuilt University

Robert Reich, Economist - the case for expanding Social Security

National Committee to Preserve Social Security and Medicare

Alliance for Retired Americans

MOTHER TERESA'S SHOES

Mother Teresa of Calcutta, kneeling on the hard floor, praying

Sometimes when I read about the privations that saints have endured, I despair of ever becoming one. While the saints are deliberately choosing pains and sufferings, I am doing everything I can to avoid the pains and to get my needs met.

Currently I am having problems with severe osteo arthritis throughout my body, including growths in my feet and fallen arches.  I have always had problems with my feet, as they are misshapen.  They are very wide over the metatarsals but narrow in the heel.  One foot is an inch longer than the other.  I've had terrible foot pain for the last 53 years.

Doctors, podiatrists and shoe experts have been telling me that I need to have shoes made specifically for me throughout my life, but I have never been able to afford it, so I have tried to "make do" with different shoe styles, including some versions of Birkenstocks and the vaguely affordable Crocs. Now that Crocs has changed their styles to conform to a new, slimmer line with a harder plastic shell, I can no longer wear them.

Walking has become a nightmarish trial.  Every step feels as if someone has taken a hammer to my feet, knees, hip and back.  Even when my legs are elevated, I experience a sharp, pounding pain in the left foot and ankle which I have broken 5 times since I was 11 years old.  Disfigured with masses of twisted purple and blue veins, along with large areas of swelling, my legs look almost as bad as they feel, despite the recent loss of 47 or more pounds.

Mother Teresa's feet

Looking at Mother Teresa of Calcutta's feet, I can only imagine the agony she must have endured with long hours on her feet, caring for the poor and dying, wearing shoes that not only did not fit her but also twisted her toes into bizarre conformations.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta's foot, shod in old sandal

I read a story some time ago about how Mother Teresa would choose her sandals when she needed them.  From the donation box, she would pick the most worn out, ugliest and poorest made sandals for herself.  While I am complaining about not getting my needs met with regard to shoes, I have her example before me: a woman so self-effacing and humble that she picked the worst of the worst for herself, even though it likely caused her tremendous physical pain and most certainly caused malformation of her bones.  We can see the twisting of the toes.

Lacking the fortitude and saintliness of Mother Teresa, I cannot even aspire to her example.  I just can't.  The physical pain is a huge distraction and presents a sizable limitation in my mobility.

While I can't follow her example, I can learn from it, though.  Certainly, her example is a lesson in humility.  Her choice to emulate the poorest of the poor, the most humble and vulnerable of humanity, is also a great lesson in gratitude and an adjustment in perspective.  No matter how much pain and privation I am enduring at this point in time, it is nothing compared to the plight of many thousands of people in the world today.

If I do manage to get some shoes made for me, I will remember to walk a few miles for the sake of others and in service to the poorest of the poor.  I will remember to be grateful, once again, for having been born in a country with a fairly high standard of living.  I will remind myself to keep rein on my ego and not let it get carried away with itself.    Please help me with your prayers.

God bless us all.

Silver "Rose" Parnell
(c) 2015

YEARLY APPEAL

Me and my son, when I was about 22 years old

My life started with some promise as an artist and writer.  Thanks to my father's position as a writer/producer for the television show "Charlie's Angels," I had a lucky connection that enabled me to work in the television industry in various capacities, selling 9 stories to that TV show in the process.

Eventually, I was turned off by the gross superficiality and loose morals of the business and I moved on to other pursuits, mostly a search for God amid the chaos of this world.

I did not imagine that the back problems that began when I was about the age I was in this photo were going to increase in scope and severity, collecting other illnesses along the way, and that some day I would be disabled and poor.

Every year I become more poor because the Social Security "cost of living increase" doesn't cover the increased costs of living at all.  I am receiving $27 a month more than last year, but my bills have increased more than $200 per month!  For example, last year my co-pays for medicine cost me $20. This year, I've been told they will cost me $107.00.  My rent went up $9.  I won't bore you with the rest of it.  Everything went up, and for a person on a limited income, it is a substantial amount.

I do not have any family that is able to help in any meaningful way.  I have a friend who has been very kind to me and even had my car repaired when it broke down, but she has a large family, and there are limits to what she can do.  I was not "lucky in love" and there is no husband.

Consequently, a lot of my needs are not met, and I am reduced to asking for help.  My Social Security is "too high" to receive any government aid, though I was told by the Medicaid people that if my income was derived from employment, rather than Social Security, they would pay some of my medical expenses, which exceed $300 a month.  This is a blatant case of handicap discrimination, and I did appeal the decision, but there is no recourse.

Because of my physical issues, there isn't much I can do to improve my situation in the way of work, though I have tried.  I am writing a book, which is a long-term proposition.  I am also an expert genealogist, but there aren't many people willing to pay for expert family research.  If you would like to have a family tree researched, please note that I am the only researcher that creates the database for you, as far as I know.  Most researchers just give you notes of what they have found.  When I was on Ancestry.com's "expert panel" I charged about $44 an hour.  These days, I charge $25 an hour, with a 3-hour minimum.

Please note, there is a "Donation" button on this page, at the upper left quadrant.  Paypal takes a percentage of every donation, however, and the arrangement is less than ideal for me.  Alternately, I have several wish lists that cover the gamut of food, household goods, service dog supplies, and research materials.  Amazon.com has my address and will ship to me direct.  All you have to do is go to my wish list, put the items in the shopping bag, and pay for them.  The wish lists are in the column to the right of this blog post.

FURTHER NOTE:  With regard to the food items, you will note that many of them are organic.  I have allergy-induced asthma, and I am allergic to many things, especially pesticides used on our produce.  In addition, I have a stomach condition that makes it difficult for me to digest many items. My asthma is not well managed because I can't get the medicine I need, due to cost.  For these reasons, I eat as much whole grain and organic food as possible, staying with simple unrefined ingredients and cooking all my meals "from scratch."  When I am feeling up to it, I even make my own bread.

If you would like to see a copy of a sample budget that I have worked up on an Excel spreadsheet before you donate, please contact me and I will email you a copy.  It is loosely based on July's expected expenditures but reflects the customary situation.

With regard to my habits and my standard of living, I should say that I do not smoke, drink or take drugs.  I don't have tattoos, eat at restaurants, travel or get my hair cut professionally.  My telephone does nothing but talk and text.  No internet.  I don't own a television and do not pay for cable, though I do have a laptop that was donated to me and I pay about $30 a month for internet access.

You should know that, despite the various privations, I am a very happy person because the Lord is always with me.  I am able to spend much more time in the presence of Jesus, Mary, the saints and angels than one would typically expect because of the situation in which I find myself.  In this way, I consider my disability and poverty a blessing...but that doesn't keep it from being a major obstacle to my survival.

If you are not able to help, I would be most grateful for prayers.

In the meantime, God bless us all.

Silver "Rose" Parnell
(c) 2015

IF YOUR FIRST INSTINCT IS TO CRITICIZE, YOU ARE MISSING THE BLISS

We all know that Jesus said to love your enemies.  When I first read the Bible, I was struck by the passage that says, "They will know you by how you love one another."  One of the two most important commandments, according to our Lord, is to love our neighbor as much as we love ourselves.

He told us to show this love by feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the prisoners, etc.  He said that, when we served the poor and needy that we were really serving him directly.  What a glorious opportunity!

Love. Love. Love.  Jesus is all about the demonstration of love, yet today we have an upsurge in the amount of toxic public discourse in which the poor are demeaned in every way.   Mostly, the people who complain about the poor claim that they are lazy people who are "working the system" and taking advantage.

Stories ABOUND in which nosy people examine the shopping carts and personal dress of a person using a food stamp subsidy to pay for their groceries and then extrapolate that, if they can afford those things, then they shouldn't be receiving help buying food.  Never mind that the critic knows absolutely nothing about the personal finances of the person upon whom they wished additional poverty.  The critic does not know who is paying for the cell phone they wish the poor person did not have.  The critic begrudges the poor person the nice vehicle he or she is driving, yet does not know to whom the car belongs or even if the poor person paid for it themselves when they were working and successful.

Critics assume that poor people have been poor their whole lives, it seems, because they can't imagine that a poor person would be in possession of things purchased when they were financially successful.

I could give many credible reasons why someone would have a cell phone, a car, a pair of earrings...but it doesn't matter because it is irrelevant.

Jesus did not say to love your neighbor as much as yourself provided that you approve of all of his or her life decisions.  No.  We are to love one another.  PERIOD.  Love.  Not criticism.  Not judgment.

If your first instinct is to criticize, then your mind is inclined in a direction away from Jesus and away from his commandments.  In fact, all this criticism of the poor is a distraction from the commandments of God.  It is a method of grasping onto one's own greedy little pile of comfort.  If a person can convince themselves that the poor have some egregious character defect, then the critic thinks they can assuage their conscience and continue to live in comfort while others go hungry, unhoused, unchurched, and unhealthy.  They grow to think that the poor deserve to be poor...and the poorer, the better, so that they'll be forced to get off their lazy bums and get a job.

I have written many times about the facts that disprove every one of the critic's arguments about the conditions of the poor in America.  Today I write about saintliness.

When Mother Teresa picked up the filthy, scabby, maggoty, sick old man from the streets of Calcutta, she did not first interview him to determine if he was worthy of her love and care.  She did not sit there on the curb, pad and pen in hand, asking questions and checking off boxes on some form. She did not consider if he had bad habits that contributed to his pitiful condition.  She did not care about any of that.  She dispensed the love of Christ.  That was all.  She did not hesitate.  She picked him up and brought him indoors where she and the nuns loved him and cared for him, washing, dressing, feeding and coddling him until he revived or he died.  Mostly, they died.  But they died in love, surrounded by sweet, gentle, smiling faces.

I do not imagine that this tendency to criticize lays outside of myself.  I have also experienced bouts of criticism in my lifetime, when my heart has not been soft enough and I needed to lean into a person with God's love instead of arrogance.  It is a daily process, to check one's mind and make sure that it is inclined toward Jesus, in tune with his love and his intentions.  Lots of prayer helps.

Writing this constitutes my commitment to maintaining a loving inclination of heart, to look upon all others with a compassionate eye and see them the way God sees them, in the radiant beauty of the image of God in which they were made.  To think well of others is a delightful thing.  It generates a deep feeling of joy and bliss.  Come join me, all you critics and pessimists, and partake of the bliss. In the meantime, I pray for you.  Please pray for me.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose Parnell

THERESE OF LISIEUX HAS A MESSAGE FOR DISABLED AND ELDERLY

Saint Therese as a novice

in the courtyard of the convent

I really love the above picture of Saint Therese because it echoes her philosophy of "the little way."  We see her here as a novice, alone under the cross.  She is dwarfed by the surroundings, hidden by her cloak that seems massive for her frame, her face appearing quite small underneath the billowy white veil.  The courtyard appears to me to be a little forlorn and unkempt, without much in the way of greenery to soften the view.  She clings to the cross with one arm slung around it.  You can just see her little hand coming around from the back.

"I will seek out a means of getting to Heaven by a little way

-very short and very straight, a little way that is wholly new.

We live in an age of inventions; nowadays the rich need not

trouble to climb the stairs, they have lifts instead.  Well, I

mean to try and find a lift by which I may be raised unto

God, for I am too tiny to climb the steep stairway of perfec-

tion.  [....]  Thine arms, then, O Jesus, are the lift which

must raise me up even unto Heaven.  to get there, I need

not grow; on the contrary, I must remain little.  I must

become still less."

Many of us have wanted to do something big and grand for God.  I really wanted to join a Catholic convent, but learned that because of divorce and disability I was not suited.  Then, I dreamed of starting a Christian "ashram" of sorts, with a special place for the disabled and elderly contemplatives.  I am poor, sick and old.  That big dream will not come true.  Like Therese of Lisieux, I am learning to embrace my disabilities and my smallness.  Inconsequentiality is a wonderful freedom.  If I am of no account, then people will not be knocking on my door at all hours, wanting things from me.  The phone rarely rings.  There are no parties, no dinners in restaurants, no travel, and few visitors.  Big dreams require big work and big money, neither of which I possess.

Consequently, I am free to spend time with God, free to pray unceasingly and to practice the continual presence of God.  Because of my disabilities, I am unable to keep a monastic schedule at home, so I am free from the stress of trying to maintain that schedule.

Instead of being unhappy about being unable to do the big things, I am grateful for the boundaries that have been thrust upon me.  I am grateful for my enforced smallness.  Instead of regretting it or fighting it, I am learning to cherish it instead.

I also think about how little time we have left.  We will all die. I turned 60 this year, which seemed a big milestone for me.  Anyway, at the same time that I am coming to grips with my smallness, I am aware of the clock ticking and that, whatever small thing I am able to do for Jesus, I must do it.

Today is the feast day of our little Saint Therese.  I am welcoming the day by meditating on my smallness and praising God for it.

In the meantime, I pray for you as I hope you pray for me.

God bless

Silver Rose Parnell

THE CONTEMPLATIVE, MANUAL LABOR, AND PRAYER PROJECTS

Baby blankets and hats being prepared for donation

to the Gabriel Project at Project Defending Life

in Albuquerque, New Mexico

I just wanted to dash off a quick note for my other contemplative sisters and brothers with regard to the type of work one decides to do in the way of ministry or of making an income.

It is best to stick with what I call "manual labor," which doesn't have to mean you are out digging ditches.  As long as it is something that engages the body in rather routine tasks that do not involve much executive function of the brain, that will be suitable.

In the contemplative monasteries, they make candy and altar breads.  Some of them produce finely embroidered vestments.  I know one monastery that produces some awesome pumpkin bread.  Others make cheese and some even make wine.  Many grow a good deal of their own food.  We can take our example from the contemplative monasteries and convents and imitate their long-standing devotion to a simple life in which the hands are used for labor.

Something that occurs to me as being rather important is that most of these activities can be done in peace and silence.  I don't believe that a stock trader or a retail sales clerk would have an easy time of it, as far as developing a contemplative life.  Their jobs would pull them too far in another direction. Anyway, I am mostly speaking to the home-bound in my blog....the disabled and elderly who have the time and the quiet home life on which to capitalize.

Baby blankets and hats are one of my ministries.  The work is mostly repetitive, and with each stitch I can say a prayer for the welfare of the new baby being welcomed into the world.  Sometimes I listen to the rosary on EWTN and recite it along with Mother Angelica and her nuns.  Sometimes I wing it. I also paint, but I am having trouble getting back to that endeavor.

Anyway, if you choose a physical task like this, it is far easier to "pray unceasingly" than if you choose a more active ministry that requires interaction with other people or a lot of writing, research, typing, and that sort of thing.  The more involved you become with outside activities, the less you will be operating as a contemplative.  If you have a tendency toward loneliness and must be with people to feel alright, then the contemplative life is not for you.  We are communing with God at every opportunity we can snatch out of the jaws of time.

I don't mean to say that everyone should be a hermit. I do think we have to limit our interactions with the outside world and keep them within certain boundaries.  Each of you will have to decide what those are for yourself.

It is important to focus your prayer life also for, in addition to quietly spending time with the Lord in the practice of the presence of God and in strictly contemplative prayer, we are called to pray for the suffering world in many areas.  With so much going on in the world today, it is hard to know what to pray for.  It could be overwhelming.  I recommend having one primary prayer project that is a constant.  For me, it is the prayer that the Catholic and Orthodox Churches will resolve their longstanding rift and become one with each other again.  My prayer life is dedicated to that rather large request.  Not only does this give me a focus, but it gives me a PURPOSE as well.  This is important.

People will ask you to pray for them, and there will be transitory requests with which you can pepper the stew, so to speak.  Don't lose sight of your mission, however.  It will help you to stay more easily on the path.

I would be interested in hearing how you construct your contemplative life.  Feel free to comment and let me know.  Perhaps others will be interested also.

God bless you,

Silver Rose Parnell