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Grace In Darkness
Today’s Morning Prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours was soothing to me as I sat before the crucifix and prayed the ancient prayers. A selection from Psalm 92: Though the wicked spring up like grass and all who do evil thrive: they are doomed to be eternally destroyed. But you, Lord, are eternally on high. See how your enemies perish; all doers of evil are scattered. It is indeed good to be reminded that there is nothing new under the sun, and that evil days have always plagued our race. The wicked are numerous. Those who do evil do thrive. But…I hope in the promises that God sees the…
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We Command You To Have a Merry Christmas
Over at The Thinking Housewife, Laura Wood has posted a lively and encouraging message about this year’s Christmas celebrations. Read and heed. ~ S.K. Orr
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Second Sunday Of Advent
We’ve looked everywhere in this region and still can’t find old-fashioned icicles for our Christmas tree. Is there some connection between the CO-vid and thin strips of shiny mylar? If we manage to find any icicles, we’re going to buy many, many packs of them. Our tree always has icicles. It’s just the way things are done. We drape them, toss them, hang them, throw them…we need them. When I stepped outside this morning, I could smell the coffee in the pot, and I wanted a gallon of it, but duty and companionship called, so I walked with care on the deck boards and felt the grit of Jack’s sugar…
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All I Can Do
- Church Life, Daily Life, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Lectio Divina, Prayers, Reflections
Slight Return
I was a gangly skint-kneed sliver of a boy of eleven when I became a Christian. The term we used then was “getting saved,” and I got saved at a summertime Vacation Bible School worship service to which I had been invited by my best friend. Since that first terrifying moment when I stepped out into the aisle to make my way down front, feeling as if an invisible hand were pushing me along, my path has looped around to some interesting landmarks. I started out at the Church of the Nazarene, then faded into twilight in my teen years as I visited but never committed to a number of…
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Seasons Of Life
Things have shifted, and now I am detaching from some things and moving towards some new ones. A time of nervous stomachs and pleasant anticipation, a period of feeling overwhelmed and unprepared, a stretch of unsettled hours, of feeling my age, of pushing out again into the waters of hope, watching the clouds and the horizon. It’s lighter in the mornings now, and I see the bicyclist on the shoulder of the road each day on the way to work. I lift my hand and breathe a blessing and a prayer, and as always, I wonder where he is going and what he does and how his day and his…
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Consummatum Est
In the last few years before her death, my mother talked to herself. Or rather, she talked to someone. Throughout my life, during her years on this earth, the kitchen was Mother’s place of abiding. She spent most of her waking hours within its warm, productive walls. In those last years before she passed from this life, whenever I was home with her, if I came into the kitchen quietly, I would often find her talking quietly as she worked. It seemed that she was talking to herself, but perhaps she was having a dialogue with God, or with an angel, or with a long-dead loved one. I do not…
- Church Life, Daily Life, Holy Days, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Lectio Divina, Prayers, Reflections
Lourdes, Lourdes
I’ve avoided writing about the current health scare for the same reason that I’ve avoided talking about it at length. There are too many sources of disparate, conflicting information, almost none of whom I trust, and I lack both the intellectual rigor and the sort of personality that delights in wading through all this dismal stuff. I suppose my stance on this situation is akin to my grandmother’s. I remember one day in the Seventies when a young plumber tried to engage her in a conversation about diet and heart disease. He presented all sorts of facts and figures in an evangelist’s voice, his eyes shining in his earnest face.…
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Perchance, Perchance
My questions never end, you know. And sometimes I am unprepared to even ask them, to form them into sensible words. I awaken sometimes and am so sure, so very sure, that someone...someone was talking with me just before I opened my eyes. I kick back to the surface of Here and when I lift my conscious face out of Wherever I Was, I am disoriented and off-balance, as if someone pulled a crutch from beneath my arm or a chair from under me. Perhaps my Father has sealed the answers to my questions in a scroll, in a book, and perhaps I am the only one worthy to break…
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In A Trying Time
A hot, bleak, disappointing day, and sitting here in the quiet of a cool room, I am grateful that it is at an end. Two sizable disappointments bled the day of much of its appeal. One was a considerable setback at my job, which does not bode well for me in the coming weeks. The other was a bit of dismal financial news, arriving when I reached home this evening. And yet I do not feel crushed or despondent, and my spirits are cheery and calm. I believe the credit for my calmness in the face of disappointment goes to two mp3’s to which I listened today. This morning on…