New job, old me

First: Nothing against the Russian people, mind you — it’s 100% more a way of addressing a country’s leaders and shady supporters — but imagine “Russians” and “porn star” appearing in one ‘blog-title! So incredibly tacky, but I suspect it’s even worse to have those words connected to one’s name forever, here.

Indeed, I’m all about the classy ‘blog-post title, so I didn’t want to leave that awful one at the top, here (for all the rest of Lent..); today’s post title is so much better.

Anyway, onward. I asked the Lord if I could just win the lottery and be done with this working nonsense. His answer was, “Take this other thing, and be done with pestering Me about your need to store up into barns. It’ll wake you up with a nice song in your under-used head, which you will be able to explain to no one, so don’t bother them with that. And it will save My worse-aging others some Footwork.”

If that didn’t happen, then I don’t have ANY explanation of why I am now doing what I am now doing!  It’s almost not a job (says others), considering the benefits-less embarrassingly low hourly rate (TG for non-taxed mileage pay!). I’m sure some young teens make more by babysitting or doing some Spring yardwork in the neighborhood.

That’s right — I deliver hot meals (on my wheels).

I’ve been feeding others since I was 8 when I had a full baby carriage full of be-ragged dolls who were HUNGRY. I’m ashamed to say I stole crackers and such for them out of the elder Mrs. Relax’s pantry when she was off being/doing good somewhere else in the apartment. The words “Crumbs!” and “Ants!” are no strangers to my ears (nor to my tongue, these days, living with kids who lost their belief in plates and bowls long ago. I’ve added “Mice!” to the ancient repertoire).

This job didn’t even garner a nod from me; it simply seemed inevitable.

And I feel good about that. He still trusts me! It’s scary, in a good way. And it’s incredibly merciful, considering it’s the easiest job on earth — easy on everything but the emotions. I can do this one almost indefinitely, come whatever may, here.

I’m training this and next week, but I did my first run yesterday, and am delightfully heartbroken on behalf of this new carriage full of lovable poor souls with whom I hope to ride wild horses on a beach in our far more pleasant eternity beyond here. It even incorporates a little soup kitchen-like prep work prior to hitting the road! Yay! Some of our clients bear rags, but none have to settle for crackers and bread heels!

As I came back into my cave and put my coat and bag down after such a short work-day, I heard a happy, urgent little voice (only) in my head:

“Take me with you!”

I turned around to look at the little and last third class relic I have, a sort of chaplet-rosary of (that great Irishwoman) St. Therese of Lisieux’s 24 “Glory be” beads, with a bit of holy cloth enclosed in the medal.

I nodded that time. Taking her along was probably inevitable, too, because I have an 8-year old’s love and thus need a big sister’s love to deliver (/from Him) — but I’m glad she spoke up!

❤ ❤





When shove comes:

I have yet to read von Balthasar’s whole book, “Heart of the World,” but this one chapter has been enough to ease my soul for a number of years. It is Jesus speaking to His church. I read it at the height of the American scandals (Massachusetts) and I was a basket case by the end. A thankful mess. Cried my heart out. He’s GOT this.

When someone has caused me to feel down — be they some other religion, none, or a skewed form of my own — by ravaging my beloved Church Who is modeled on Mary Ever Virgin and literally bears the very Heart of the world, Who has put the holiest people on earth into my immediate surroundings — all of which I can hardly speak well enough to, or I’d have done so by now! — I come back to this.

And you can bet it’s one reason I love Jesuits! Always, the Jesuits — making me nod. Indeed, a re-reading doesn’t make me cry — that was just that once. For all the years since that horrible night, it makes me nod.  I nod, “Amen.”





As the snow melts..

I’m taking a break here in my UTTERLY FREE TIME (*giggles with delight*) from all this sorting and organizing I’ve been waiting umpteen months to get to. Until now, it’s all just been moved around a number of times to make room for summer, fall, winter, birthday, and Christmas things.


HI!! How YOU doin’?

I am (and have been for some time, now) longing for something pretty. I can be nailed to the floor by a floral side-body purse (and, uh, matching flats!), but my visage’s window for that is closed. However, my eyes want something art-deco-vased-single-perfect-white-orchid-on-a-bare-wooden-table, you know? Mm, mm, MM!

My enormous bare wooden dining room table has sparkle glue (blue) and gouges, scrapes, and I could pretty much nickname it Hulk Hogan. My bare wooden piano top has carved birds and lovely little greenhouse plants on it, but it’s in the cave-room. Dark, cool, clockface-squinty. Well, the single orchid is just out, so I’ll have to green-tablecloth the kid-attractor, Hulk, and go get us a single deep purple hyacinth.

I might also seek out one of those beautiful non-real roses that look like they’re in a clear vase of water. I don’t have anywhere to put that, either — I’ll just carry it around. 😀

Well, time to get back to it all. I hope you’re having a wonderful Monday. If not, I hope God is so near, He looks like a white orchid.. or a deep purple hyacinth.






What’s he done NOW??

I realized the other day that I had not seen one word of news about Pope Francis for many months! I knew its reason right away: the U.S. media have a DC darling who gives them fodder (well, hay — ugly, blighty hay) for print even all through the night.

The Pope used to be at least the media’s anti-darling, i.e., “Look what he’s done NOW!” It would be (controversially) good for a few blurbs and many comments.

The Pope doesn’t give out hay. We can agree or disagree about what we think he has done, but he gives out bread. That is inarguable.

(And we may not all agree, but I can’t help but think we’re in that time of the ages mentioned in Scripture when bad is called good, and good is called bad.. I have always been able to tell the difference. If only the MAGA-ites could.)

At any rate, the news is out there.

More here.