Two Steps Backward

Due to an unexpected and tragic death in the family, I am going off my blog for awhile. I ask for prayers during this difficult and painful time.

I Hate Two Steps Forward, One Step Backward

But that is what Spring is like. My newly emerged lilies and tulips froze off last night. As well, I had to find and apply the brain squeezing ear band. Why don't I throw it away if I dislike it so much? Certainly there must be other head coverings in the world. Three jackets later, the walk was protected by the pine forest, 'where God lives.' I am only complaining about these things because I have to study all day...test tomorrow. This is the professor who is teaching the bio-ethics class. I have not found that little connection that I like to find, with my teachers. He seems very open, and laid back. But he corrected my last paper according to structure. I had failed to indent my paragraphs, the obligatory five spaces. A certain sign of a perfectionist. And that he could not find anything else wrong with the paper. People never fail to amaze me. I received an A- because of the failed structure of indentation. This made me not want to study for him. We are spending a lot of time on genetics. And the question, if you could remove something from the genetic DNA, what would it be?

Defiance, perhaps?

Thanks For The Feedback

Don:

Thanks for the long letter on sacramental grace. I am going to read it several times, as usual.

I am holding myself back from saying that I feel differently than when we met, whatever that time frame is, two or three years ago. But I have good indicators that I am feeling differently.

My humor is back, my patience, and my zesty spirit for life, and all that life holds. All signs that each activity that I have applied has held sacramental grace. Makes for a new definition of sacrament: gardening, carpentry, dogs, sleep, walking, studying, and cleaning out the basement. Figuratively and literally.

I am even open to the possibility that prayer is a dynamic, two way conversation. And that my prayer is not going nowhere, but somewhere.

You have been a good friend to me.

Linda

Confession Is Good For The Soul

Sacramental grace is one of my favorite mental pursuits. Long forgotten as plausible, and entirely too focused in the locale of the seven sacraments, I enjoy my own locations of sacramental grace.

Kindness, compassion, and tenderness within relationships that do not deserve it. That must be a sacrament, that exudes grace.

Melding and merging with the American Pelican, here on their migatory pause. The ugliest bird on the face of the earth, but the most graceful of all flyers. Visually joining a vista, so high, that the bump on the beak can not be seen, nor the mystery of the heavy body, considered. That must be a sacrament. The way I felt, after seeing two or three hundred in the air, must be grace.

Trying to load up the giant dog when he is intent on finding a chipmonk. That must be a sacrament, holding boundful amounts of grace, for the frustrated driver, intent on errands.

Cutting perfect angles for the wood trim with no applause, no witness, no compliment. That solitary, pleasurable activity must hold grace for the, (generally), easily frustrated and fearful. Why does the phrase 45* angle produce fear? And what else could it be but grace when all is done and successful?

Receiving an e-mail from the gutter-driven brother that said, "I love you." Allowing that inside of me, needed grace. I thank God for receiving that grace.
Instead of hitting the delete key, I wrote back, "I love you too."

Back to confession is good for the soul.

I had to re-up the blue ear band today from retirement, and place it on my head. I swore I would never wear it again.

I drove through the Amish territory this morning saying to myself, "Why do the Amish fear paint?" However, I only said this when my eyes dropped from a dramatic and heart filling landscape, banked and enveloped by a skyscape that was breathless in deep purples and blacks.

I have re-lit the corn-pellet stove. Spring is not exactly here. I am now wondering if my soul is actually located in the corn-pellet stove. If so, I am sure the sacrament of penance or the sacrament of marriage will take care of this slight aberation within spiritual norms.