When hoped for should become a plan

I’ve long wanted to collaborate on a book with my daughter. Actually, I’d love to collaborate on a book with any of my children or grandchildren or all, but this one in particular has always been quite the natural artist. Her illustrations based on her interpretation of the point in my prose would go far to say better, the little I have.

As one of many such gifts over the years, she drew a beautiful pastel portrait of Mary with a crown of stars above, horns under, and the soft, regal, voluminous folds of her garments — above and around her welcoming hands — appearing more wing-like than we might think. I know that Mary must look serious, but the one glaring imperfection was indeed her mouth. She looked almost dour. So dour, in fact, that I secretly tried to improve upon it.

There was also the gift of a portrait she’d done of the Man of Sorrows, crowned. She finished off the thorns, each and every one of them, with black and thus shiny ink seemingly visible from Pluto — the one glaring imperfection.  There was no way to improve upon it, there all in black and white and framed in black wood.

Eventually, it dawned on me that here is a real artist. What she applied — what she let stand, what she framed and with what she framed it — is the imperfection we bring to the holy.  What we see, that we don’t like, is our effect on the holy.

After all, what mother can smile or look beatific when any one of her children is in dire danger?  How could a loving Saviour bear as crown the purposely unnatural-to-God — the hardened, deliberately misformed, dead unfurled leaf affixed to Him by the thankless thoughtless — without it coloring His whole likeness?

For too long, her main canvas has been her skin — for tattoos. I’d really like to improve them, and I never will, but she needs to see where her greatest talent is, and I need it to speak for me.


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A Re-blog (“100th [Fatima] Anniversary … Rosary …”)

(Relax note: These two ladies share their beautiful rosary finds/histories with us. I am so often amazed at the beauty of all the above! Today is a special Marian day, as is every Saturday, but this one sets the tone for all.)

May 13, 2017 marked the 100th Anniversary of the day on which Mary, the Blessed Mother, appeared to three children, Lucia, Francisco, and Jacinta, in Fatima, Portugal. On that day, Mary told the children to return to the same place on the 13th of each month. The children did as they were […]

via 100th Anniversary of the Apparitions of Fatima Rosary by Ghirelli — Rosary Collector


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Respite

Today’s prompt: Calm

Recently on a drive home from work on a road lined with farm fields and ponds, the crystal clear night was astoundingly cold — but even more astoundingly bright. I looked up beyond my misted fog of an exhausted existence and smiled as if seeing a faithful friend. It was another half mile or so before I realized I was singing– and what I was singing..

It’s the one song I wish might play on every battlefield.

 


 

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To live is Christ

Wherever we’re broken is where Jesus fills in. We think we’re the Body of Christ, but Christ is even more the Body of man. For love’s sake, He identified with us, not us with Him.

If we are broken in the womb, He fills us in. If we are broken in childhood, He fills us in. If we are broken in sorrow, He fills us in. If we are broken in shame, He fills us in. If we are broken to bits in sin, He fills us in.

We cannot apply Him. He’s already in here, and in there.. He fills us in.

Mother Teresa grieved her loss of awareness of Him.. for 50 years. He filled her in, every day. He lived His love from her. If she could go through it all again, do we think she’d hesitate? Everyone wanted to work with her (and her sisters). It didn’t matter what may be missing from life.. that was little compared to the gain. The poor’s gain. His gain. Heaven’s gain. Earth’s gain. Love.

St. Francis broke himself. He was Filled in, and more. Padre Pio, too. The Stigmata came from The Within, via their fiat.. let it be done.. Whom thy soul doth magnify, too.

Are you frightened? Invite Him forth and release Him unto your foe. Are you too beaten to go on? Let Him live from you. He will fill in every emptiness and gap, and more. He does not aim for comforting (His mother, foster-father, relatives and friends do); He aims for perfect love. He has His ways, tailored uniquely to us.

He called forth Lazarus from the tomb in the rock, and said, “Unbind him.” He had delayed his visit for 3 days and then gave away His own Resurrection to another, so that we would have every reason to dare to call Jesus Himself forth from inside our tomb — and unbind Him.


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