I'm just going to come right out and say it. I'm Catholic. Doesn't come as much of a surprise, does it? But to America, speaking as a patriotic American, I proclaim that I am Catholic before I am American. I am American by soil and Catholic by soul.
Now, why is this important? Because we live in a culture in which the soul is trampled beneath the unweildy sledgehammer of relativism. Those who purport to "lead" our country exist within their own large yet solitary spheres in which they suffer from the delusion that the soul is something seperate from who they are.
This is why we get people such as John Kerry, who claims to be Catholic, claims the "right" to recieve the most Holy Eucharist, and yet still holds the invalid opinion that he can lobby for the "right" to kill a child. What hellish nonsense.
It's a cop out to try to seperate one's faith from anything, including politics. If you are going to claim a belief, then the only option is to LIVE that belief in all parts of your life. If you don't...then you're a hypocrite.
What point is it for me to say that I follow Christ, and then turn around and in my professional life, proclaim by my actions and my words that I do not follow Christ? If I claim to love Jesus, then how can I advocate for the "right" to tear a child apart from the very life-giving womb of a mother?
Consider it like this: I am American. I believe in Democracy, and I believe in Capitalism. So I am going to go overseas and find another country to live in. I am going to publicly announce that I hold soundly as a belief that Democracy and Capitalism are the way to manage civilization, but because I don't want to impose my values upon these people, I am going to advocate Communism. It's best not to "offend" by inflicting Western "values" upon a culture that has never known anything different than Marxism.
Riiiight. And this is supposed to make sense?
Politicians actually think they can seperate what they claim to believe to what they promote publicly, because they don't want to impose their morality upon others.
You know what I say to this? (Parents, cover your children's eyes, I'm going to type a bad word).
I say BULLSHIT!
Parents, it's ok from here.
I say that it is our God-Given MISSION to impose our values upon the unbelieving public. I say that to claim anything otherwise is a denial of Christ, a denial of his sacrifice, and worthy of being called out on a sin of omission to FAIL to ASSERT what we KNOW TO BE TRUE!
I have absolutely no respect for someone who claims they don't want to "impose" their "values" upon someone else. By that statement, they reveal that they have no spine, no courage of conviction, and that they have already assumed they are probably wrong. It is a sign of a weak spirit, a soul in need of massive overhaul, and bears the mark given to the tools held by the devil.
Do YOU want to be a tool? Probably not.
I realize that there are many belief systems out there, many religions, many different ways to look at things. Clearly I think Catholicism is the one true religion, and specifically, the fullness of the Christian faith. And I still say to those who may disagree and hold another viewpoint, just TRY to impose your values on we, the faithful.
Why? Because when we are armed with Truth, we are wearing the armor of God. And when you try to inflict "values" which are not founded in God's Truth, you will be destroyed by your own words and your own agenda. And maybe, just maybe, since we are busy imposing our own beliefs upon the great societal cop out, YOU WILL BE CONVERTED and YOU will come to know Jesus as your SAVIOR.
And so I am Catholic first and all else second. When I look for guidance, I do not look to Washington, for all I see there is a bunch of poor misguided souls so afraid to offend someone that they have turned into so much jello. A spine can do a lot for a person.
I look to Rome, and specifically to the Vatican, for guidance, and so should we all.
The Truth is not found in political platforms. That's just a bunch of fluff without real substance. When I look for guidance, I look to the Lord, and to my Catholic faith.
I'd rather be a martyr for something that matters and something that leads to eternal life as opposed to the high probability of eternal damnation faced by those who publicly denounce their "faith" in favor of a few meaningless votes.
Pro-death politicans, I hope you can wash the blood of the innocents off of your activist hands before you go to judgment. If you are Catholic, or even claim to be, I can point you to a confessional, and I suggest that if you have lost your spine, you find it quickly. America is not your home, and it is not my home. It is our soil. Heaven is our home, and that's the place our souls are seeking to reside for eternity.
So to whom do you claim sovereignity? To so much created dirt and man-made lines, or do you seek to be washed in the precious blood of the lamb who died for you?
Choose well.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
I'm strugglin', y'all
I think the title pretty much covers it, and I suspect that if I were able to interview each and every one of you, you have something similar happening.
Things are going wrong. All at once, and when you think you've hit the bottom, you've found that when this particular floor collapses, there's yet another, and another.
Yup. That's where I am.
Last night I had another bad dream, woke feeling that odd "terror", the kind that when I was a child growing up in a haunted home (I'm not kidding about that, long story but not interesting), I would wake up and want to pull the covers over my head. As an adult, I have to struggle against that impulse, because even if no one's watching, it just doesn't seem dignified, and I can't always use "cold" as an excuse.
So of course, I pray. And I say "Praise God!" to that.
Last night the dream was more about my mother, and so I began praying the rosary, and fell asleep, woke up thinking about her, continued praying. I've heard that Our Lady finishes rosaries for us when we fall asleep praying one, so I think Mom had several finished for her last night, by none other than the Queen of Heaven.
But that's not the only thing. Work has been very difficult of late, and today not only was I behind from last week's stuff and Monday's extreme clobbering, but old stuff has come back and needs attention YESTERDAY, people are upset and impatient all around, and I confess that I have likewise been impatient. It's catching, so look out!
I felt relieved to come home. Until I opened my gas bill! They said I missed a payment, so of course I went pawing through old checks, went online to see if it cleared, it did, signed up for an online account through the gas company so I could view records since their billing office is long closed...and nothin'. The record provided EXACTLY what is on my bill, while I'm just trying to find out what the last payment was that they recieved, in what amount, and what date. Now I have to wait until tomorrow. I could have shot them an e-mail, but then there would be phone tag.
It's the second bill this month which has doubled due to a missed payment. I know that the other one I legitimately hadn't paid because that was the cable bill and they have a habit of either forgetting to send me a bill for a couple months, or the post office hates me. In any case, I checked my accounts and indeed, I did not pay that bill last month, so I'm on the hook.
But this other one...I need to find out more.
And then there is the issue with having taken a pay cut recently for better hours at work, my mortgage and association fees went up, one dog was due for shots and then an old infection returned which was not apparent for our scheduled appointment, meaning that I had to bring her back. And it's not something that can be ignored..the poor girl is suffering, she's only 3 1/2 years old, and it's a simple UTI....which of course has cost me lots of money to clean up what she couldn't hold. I'm tired of that red and white Miracle enzyme cleaner. I spend more on that lately than I do on groceries. And I can't scold a dog who can't help it.
My other dog's due for shots next month, my car registration tabs are due next month, and due to an error on my taxes last year, I'll be lucky to get anythign back at all in the form of a return, and with the way things have been going, I think there's a really good chance that I'm going to have to pay in.
I'm getting hit HARD financially, folks. So far I'm OK, but I'll admit I'm getting scared.
I'm starting to feel like Job. If a strong wind blows down my house, I start suffering from huge boils, my dogs die and when I start living in a garbage dump wearing old clothes and rubbing ashes on myself, I'm going to have to study that book a little further. And if three friends approach me and tell me to repent, then I'll KNOW I'm a modern Job.
But let's not go there yet.
Because you know what I say to all of this stuff, especially the stuff that scares me? I say "Praise the Lord for he has done great things for me".
And I say, "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me."
Last year I suffered a great trial also, and it was long-term, all work-related. I think it's going to be worse this year, but I think that I'm starting to see a pattern. Not only is it that Lent is a time of suffering for me, but I think that I'm paying in advance for some great blessing. I read this in Raymond Arroyo's book about Mother Angelica. Whenever God wanted her to do something, he struck her down with something terrible. And then came the miracles.
I'm not Mother Angelica, that's for certain. But I think the same idea applies...God makes us pay in advance, sends us these trials to help strengthen our faith so that we don't get too high and mighty when he blesses us. When we are face down on the dirt, humbled by circumstances of our lives, even a little cloth to wipe our faces is a great blessing.
And so I praise God for whatever he is sending me now, and I ask for faith to continue on this journey. God knows, I likely deserve what's happening to me anyway. It's not as though I wasn't a sinner to begin with.
And now let me guess...as you've read this, you've been able to draw comparisons to your own situation...maybe it's financial, like mine, but involving cats and not dogs. Or a job loss, leading to the domino effect of bills piling up. Or clerical errors all over the place. And right now you're nodding your head because you feel as I do, and you understand because like it or not, this is life and it's something we all face...and sometimes it really hits us hard.
I have known for awhile that God's 2 by 4 was about to swing and knock me into the next field. I'm not sure yet if this is still the anticipation, the board whistling through the air, or if I've been smacked already and I'm now flying helplessly through the air, a human projectile.
You know how it is if you've ever been hit by or run into something....that feeling of shock, feeling the impact but not the pain yet because it takes the nerves a moment to respond and sing an opera to you.
The scary thing is that I don't think I've recieved the initial impact yet. I'll have to keep you updated.
In the meantime, I'll just keep praising God. It's all I CAN do.
God bless and keep you, and when God's 2 by 4 swings your way, may your landing be cushioned by great blessings.
Things are going wrong. All at once, and when you think you've hit the bottom, you've found that when this particular floor collapses, there's yet another, and another.
Yup. That's where I am.
Last night I had another bad dream, woke feeling that odd "terror", the kind that when I was a child growing up in a haunted home (I'm not kidding about that, long story but not interesting), I would wake up and want to pull the covers over my head. As an adult, I have to struggle against that impulse, because even if no one's watching, it just doesn't seem dignified, and I can't always use "cold" as an excuse.
So of course, I pray. And I say "Praise God!" to that.
Last night the dream was more about my mother, and so I began praying the rosary, and fell asleep, woke up thinking about her, continued praying. I've heard that Our Lady finishes rosaries for us when we fall asleep praying one, so I think Mom had several finished for her last night, by none other than the Queen of Heaven.
But that's not the only thing. Work has been very difficult of late, and today not only was I behind from last week's stuff and Monday's extreme clobbering, but old stuff has come back and needs attention YESTERDAY, people are upset and impatient all around, and I confess that I have likewise been impatient. It's catching, so look out!
I felt relieved to come home. Until I opened my gas bill! They said I missed a payment, so of course I went pawing through old checks, went online to see if it cleared, it did, signed up for an online account through the gas company so I could view records since their billing office is long closed...and nothin'. The record provided EXACTLY what is on my bill, while I'm just trying to find out what the last payment was that they recieved, in what amount, and what date. Now I have to wait until tomorrow. I could have shot them an e-mail, but then there would be phone tag.
It's the second bill this month which has doubled due to a missed payment. I know that the other one I legitimately hadn't paid because that was the cable bill and they have a habit of either forgetting to send me a bill for a couple months, or the post office hates me. In any case, I checked my accounts and indeed, I did not pay that bill last month, so I'm on the hook.
But this other one...I need to find out more.
And then there is the issue with having taken a pay cut recently for better hours at work, my mortgage and association fees went up, one dog was due for shots and then an old infection returned which was not apparent for our scheduled appointment, meaning that I had to bring her back. And it's not something that can be ignored..the poor girl is suffering, she's only 3 1/2 years old, and it's a simple UTI....which of course has cost me lots of money to clean up what she couldn't hold. I'm tired of that red and white Miracle enzyme cleaner. I spend more on that lately than I do on groceries. And I can't scold a dog who can't help it.
My other dog's due for shots next month, my car registration tabs are due next month, and due to an error on my taxes last year, I'll be lucky to get anythign back at all in the form of a return, and with the way things have been going, I think there's a really good chance that I'm going to have to pay in.
I'm getting hit HARD financially, folks. So far I'm OK, but I'll admit I'm getting scared.
I'm starting to feel like Job. If a strong wind blows down my house, I start suffering from huge boils, my dogs die and when I start living in a garbage dump wearing old clothes and rubbing ashes on myself, I'm going to have to study that book a little further. And if three friends approach me and tell me to repent, then I'll KNOW I'm a modern Job.
But let's not go there yet.
Because you know what I say to all of this stuff, especially the stuff that scares me? I say "Praise the Lord for he has done great things for me".
And I say, "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me."
Last year I suffered a great trial also, and it was long-term, all work-related. I think it's going to be worse this year, but I think that I'm starting to see a pattern. Not only is it that Lent is a time of suffering for me, but I think that I'm paying in advance for some great blessing. I read this in Raymond Arroyo's book about Mother Angelica. Whenever God wanted her to do something, he struck her down with something terrible. And then came the miracles.
I'm not Mother Angelica, that's for certain. But I think the same idea applies...God makes us pay in advance, sends us these trials to help strengthen our faith so that we don't get too high and mighty when he blesses us. When we are face down on the dirt, humbled by circumstances of our lives, even a little cloth to wipe our faces is a great blessing.
And so I praise God for whatever he is sending me now, and I ask for faith to continue on this journey. God knows, I likely deserve what's happening to me anyway. It's not as though I wasn't a sinner to begin with.
And now let me guess...as you've read this, you've been able to draw comparisons to your own situation...maybe it's financial, like mine, but involving cats and not dogs. Or a job loss, leading to the domino effect of bills piling up. Or clerical errors all over the place. And right now you're nodding your head because you feel as I do, and you understand because like it or not, this is life and it's something we all face...and sometimes it really hits us hard.
I have known for awhile that God's 2 by 4 was about to swing and knock me into the next field. I'm not sure yet if this is still the anticipation, the board whistling through the air, or if I've been smacked already and I'm now flying helplessly through the air, a human projectile.
You know how it is if you've ever been hit by or run into something....that feeling of shock, feeling the impact but not the pain yet because it takes the nerves a moment to respond and sing an opera to you.
The scary thing is that I don't think I've recieved the initial impact yet. I'll have to keep you updated.
In the meantime, I'll just keep praising God. It's all I CAN do.
God bless and keep you, and when God's 2 by 4 swings your way, may your landing be cushioned by great blessings.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Bryant Gumbel is a Racist and Figure skating is not a Sport
The title pretty much says it all. Maybe I should expand a little on my points, though.
I will never deny the athleticism required for figure skating, or the dedication required by those who participate. However, that does not change the fact that it is an art form. As such, it cannot be a sport.
What really gets me, though, is the fact that "Ice Dancing", which is really just pairs skating in fancier costumes, has been allowed into the Olympics. This just proves that popular demand makes the rules around the globe.
That said, I can't imagine the Olympics without figure skating, but I could do without 2 hours of it per night for the full tenure of the Games. Is it just me or is this "sport" so far overdone so as to be political?
Recently Bryant Bumbel...uh...Bryant GUMBEL recently made a ridiculous commment regarding the Olympics...something to the effect that since they are not all running around naked and speaking Greek, and most of those participating in the winter Games are white, it is not worth watching.
What a freakin' racist. Why does he get away with this s***? I'm offended. I think I might sue for pain and suffering. I feel violated by his comment as I am a white supporter and wannabe contender in the Winter Olympics.
I also have this mad desire to put this bumblehead on a pair of highly waxed skis and thrust his sorry ass down a very steep, sprayed and salted course amisdst strong winds, fog, and generally poor weather, and see if someone can catch him on camera falling over a cliff, through gates and several snow fences. Or maybe trying not to face plant on blades. That would be fun, too.
I'd really like to put in him front of Shawny Davis and let that Olympian give him what-for.
I had a boyfriend who was black. (He did not want to be called "African-American)). He wasn't very politically correct, either.
Anyway, he was initially not interested in skiing, telling me it was a "white sport". I told him he was full of it. He was open to meeting my ski-patrol friends, and together we enticed him to come to the ski area. A world class skier offered him a free lesson, which he initially refused, but then after we stared at him and made him realize what he was turning down, he agreed.
The man has purchased skis, has invested in the sport and has gotten pretty good at it...especially for an average recreational skier.
Don't tell me black men can't ski.
Now, back to original programming. Figure skating is an artform, it is beautiful and requires much discipline. So do sports. But if we're goign to allow Ice Dancing into the Games, then we may as well allow competetive dancing into the summer games.
I don't think so.
Regarding Gumbel's idiocy:
Skiing is a sport. So is hockey. So is speed skating. And luge, skeleton, and bobsledding.
Don't sit there and tell me the athletes have to be naked Greeks in order for it to be legit. I'm not sure what this idiot's point is...maybe that he's incompetent, and that's his problem. It sure doesn't justify denigrating our athletes (even the skaters).
What I find really ironic is the number of summer olympic sports which were not recognized in ancient Greece. And the fact that by African American standards, Greeks were and remain...WHITE!
I've heard the term "reverse racism" and have even used the term, but it's a cop out. Racism is racism.
Bryant Gumbel is an outright racist, and I'm not surprised that the ACLU has not slapped his sorry rear end with a lawsuit. They're racist, too.
/ rant
I will never deny the athleticism required for figure skating, or the dedication required by those who participate. However, that does not change the fact that it is an art form. As such, it cannot be a sport.
What really gets me, though, is the fact that "Ice Dancing", which is really just pairs skating in fancier costumes, has been allowed into the Olympics. This just proves that popular demand makes the rules around the globe.
That said, I can't imagine the Olympics without figure skating, but I could do without 2 hours of it per night for the full tenure of the Games. Is it just me or is this "sport" so far overdone so as to be political?
Recently Bryant Bumbel...uh...Bryant GUMBEL recently made a ridiculous commment regarding the Olympics...something to the effect that since they are not all running around naked and speaking Greek, and most of those participating in the winter Games are white, it is not worth watching.
What a freakin' racist. Why does he get away with this s***? I'm offended. I think I might sue for pain and suffering. I feel violated by his comment as I am a white supporter and wannabe contender in the Winter Olympics.
I also have this mad desire to put this bumblehead on a pair of highly waxed skis and thrust his sorry ass down a very steep, sprayed and salted course amisdst strong winds, fog, and generally poor weather, and see if someone can catch him on camera falling over a cliff, through gates and several snow fences. Or maybe trying not to face plant on blades. That would be fun, too.
I'd really like to put in him front of Shawny Davis and let that Olympian give him what-for.
I had a boyfriend who was black. (He did not want to be called "African-American)). He wasn't very politically correct, either.
Anyway, he was initially not interested in skiing, telling me it was a "white sport". I told him he was full of it. He was open to meeting my ski-patrol friends, and together we enticed him to come to the ski area. A world class skier offered him a free lesson, which he initially refused, but then after we stared at him and made him realize what he was turning down, he agreed.
The man has purchased skis, has invested in the sport and has gotten pretty good at it...especially for an average recreational skier.
Don't tell me black men can't ski.
Now, back to original programming. Figure skating is an artform, it is beautiful and requires much discipline. So do sports. But if we're goign to allow Ice Dancing into the Games, then we may as well allow competetive dancing into the summer games.
I don't think so.
Regarding Gumbel's idiocy:
Skiing is a sport. So is hockey. So is speed skating. And luge, skeleton, and bobsledding.
Don't sit there and tell me the athletes have to be naked Greeks in order for it to be legit. I'm not sure what this idiot's point is...maybe that he's incompetent, and that's his problem. It sure doesn't justify denigrating our athletes (even the skaters).
What I find really ironic is the number of summer olympic sports which were not recognized in ancient Greece. And the fact that by African American standards, Greeks were and remain...WHITE!
I've heard the term "reverse racism" and have even used the term, but it's a cop out. Racism is racism.
Bryant Gumbel is an outright racist, and I'm not surprised that the ACLU has not slapped his sorry rear end with a lawsuit. They're racist, too.
/ rant
Ministry Fair and Discernment to everyday stuff
Today was my parish's annual Ministry Fair, where nearly 100 possible ministries within the parish are showcased and presented for info and signup.
I'm already a member of the Frassati Society. Check.
I've gone to the Charismatic Prayer Group several times after last lent's Life in the Spirit Seminar, and spoke at another seminar last summer for that group. But although my experience with the CCR (Catholic Charismatic Renewal) was a positive one, it is not my spirituality. Maybe more on that in another post. But in any case, I do love the people who are involved. They are wonderful, loving people, and I was never once pressured to speak in tongues.
What I am agonizing over is the desire to teach, but there was no one seemingly available at the "education" tables, and I didn't feel very drawn to them today.
I did reveal to a friend, as I have before, that I am interested in the parish Commission, and this year my work schedule would permit my involvement.
But one point of agony...I love to sing. A woman once told me during the sign of peace that I have a wonderful voice. I thanked her and wished her peace and tried to still the longing in my heart.
They have often appealed for good singers, but I don't feel called anyomre. Yet I do.
Let me tell you yet another long-winded story, for those are my specialty. It's part of my endearing charm. Or something like that. "Endearing" and "charm" can be substituted for your own personal judgment.
I was involved in music ministry from a young age...always loved music, used to make up songs and sing them to my Dad, especially. They were mostly tuneless little-girl songs, but they apparently warmed his heart. I was fascinated by the various music groups at our little parish and Mom always made it a point to encourage our interest in music.
Fast forward to elementary school. I was 11. We lived in Faribault, MN, and somehow they arranged for me to play my flute during the Christmas program before the 5 pm Mass. I remember the "audition" and being happy to be there.
Then Christmas Eve arrived, I calmly walked forward when it was time, not a bit nervous. I turned around, saw how full the Church was...and I began shaking. I raised my flute, the pianist began the lead-in, but no sound came out of my flute. She looked at me and started again, and this time, by the grace of God, sound came out and I played, shaking so hard I created a wonderful vibrato.
In Jr. High I learned that I could actually sing, and got involved in the youth choir and shortly after, the adult choir. By then I was playing my flute with the choir from time to time, on some Sundays and during holidays.
My best friend and I joined the choir and also began singing with the cantors. Many of them were happy to have assistance up front, so we were always welcomed. I always brought my flute just in case it was needed.
One Christmas, I showed up for the 8:30 am Mass with my flute and sang with the cantor (who happened to be both the Director of Liturgical Music AND my sometimes private flute teacher when Mom could afford it). A little before Communion, she saw that there were not enough Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion, handed me the songbook, and told me to lead the parish in singing.
I stood staring at the book, shocked.
The song was "What Child is This?", the accompaniast and I looked at each other, shrugged, and when the time came, I sang. I could hear my own voice through the mike, and tried not to listen to it.
I continued to sing and fill in as a substitute. That summer, I was on the schedule a lot, especially with all the vacations of the regular cantors.
It wasn't long before I was just placed on the list.
Now I am torn. I am a member of a large parish, and the choir's OK, although the Director does chose a lot of completely dischordant and unsingable music. The choir processes in with the priest when they sing, and that drives me crazy. The Cantor does not stand with the choir, but walks behind the altar over to the lector's stand and sings from there.
I don't like these things. I understand some of the reasoning behind it, I just disagree with it.
And I don't want to be a part of that.
The Cantors at the masses were the choir does not sing have a more informal place, and sing at the regular mike by the choir loft to the left of the altar, so I'd be more comfortable with that...but I'm not sure I want to lead singing at all anymore.
I will say I've been tempted to grab the microphone from some cantors, but let's not go there. We all have those stories.
I'm not a good singer anymore, anyway, just a passable one.
But I can't stop wondering if I'm supposed to be up there singing, anyway?
What in the WORLD does God want me to do?
Does anyone else agnoize about these things?
I'm already a member of the Frassati Society. Check.
I've gone to the Charismatic Prayer Group several times after last lent's Life in the Spirit Seminar, and spoke at another seminar last summer for that group. But although my experience with the CCR (Catholic Charismatic Renewal) was a positive one, it is not my spirituality. Maybe more on that in another post. But in any case, I do love the people who are involved. They are wonderful, loving people, and I was never once pressured to speak in tongues.
What I am agonizing over is the desire to teach, but there was no one seemingly available at the "education" tables, and I didn't feel very drawn to them today.
I did reveal to a friend, as I have before, that I am interested in the parish Commission, and this year my work schedule would permit my involvement.
But one point of agony...I love to sing. A woman once told me during the sign of peace that I have a wonderful voice. I thanked her and wished her peace and tried to still the longing in my heart.
They have often appealed for good singers, but I don't feel called anyomre. Yet I do.
Let me tell you yet another long-winded story, for those are my specialty. It's part of my endearing charm. Or something like that. "Endearing" and "charm" can be substituted for your own personal judgment.
I was involved in music ministry from a young age...always loved music, used to make up songs and sing them to my Dad, especially. They were mostly tuneless little-girl songs, but they apparently warmed his heart. I was fascinated by the various music groups at our little parish and Mom always made it a point to encourage our interest in music.
Fast forward to elementary school. I was 11. We lived in Faribault, MN, and somehow they arranged for me to play my flute during the Christmas program before the 5 pm Mass. I remember the "audition" and being happy to be there.
Then Christmas Eve arrived, I calmly walked forward when it was time, not a bit nervous. I turned around, saw how full the Church was...and I began shaking. I raised my flute, the pianist began the lead-in, but no sound came out of my flute. She looked at me and started again, and this time, by the grace of God, sound came out and I played, shaking so hard I created a wonderful vibrato.
In Jr. High I learned that I could actually sing, and got involved in the youth choir and shortly after, the adult choir. By then I was playing my flute with the choir from time to time, on some Sundays and during holidays.
My best friend and I joined the choir and also began singing with the cantors. Many of them were happy to have assistance up front, so we were always welcomed. I always brought my flute just in case it was needed.
One Christmas, I showed up for the 8:30 am Mass with my flute and sang with the cantor (who happened to be both the Director of Liturgical Music AND my sometimes private flute teacher when Mom could afford it). A little before Communion, she saw that there were not enough Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion, handed me the songbook, and told me to lead the parish in singing.
I stood staring at the book, shocked.
The song was "What Child is This?", the accompaniast and I looked at each other, shrugged, and when the time came, I sang. I could hear my own voice through the mike, and tried not to listen to it.
I continued to sing and fill in as a substitute. That summer, I was on the schedule a lot, especially with all the vacations of the regular cantors.
It wasn't long before I was just placed on the list.
Now I am torn. I am a member of a large parish, and the choir's OK, although the Director does chose a lot of completely dischordant and unsingable music. The choir processes in with the priest when they sing, and that drives me crazy. The Cantor does not stand with the choir, but walks behind the altar over to the lector's stand and sings from there.
I don't like these things. I understand some of the reasoning behind it, I just disagree with it.
And I don't want to be a part of that.
The Cantors at the masses were the choir does not sing have a more informal place, and sing at the regular mike by the choir loft to the left of the altar, so I'd be more comfortable with that...but I'm not sure I want to lead singing at all anymore.
I will say I've been tempted to grab the microphone from some cantors, but let's not go there. We all have those stories.
I'm not a good singer anymore, anyway, just a passable one.
But I can't stop wondering if I'm supposed to be up there singing, anyway?
What in the WORLD does God want me to do?
Does anyone else agnoize about these things?
Saturday, February 18, 2006
The Olympics, mostly talkin' 'bout Bode
I LOVE THE WINTER OLYMPICS!!!
And the cool thing is, that I'll even find myself rooting for skiers and competitors of other countries. Take, for example, Kostilek, from Croatia...a girl who grew up in a war-torn country to find "home" on the World Cup circuit, as did her brother who is also competing in Torino. She just took Gold on the women's Downhill Combined. You GO Girl!
What strikes me about her is her humility. Humble roots, trained non-traditionally, and accepting her fame as she has accepted every other challenge of her life...as something God gave her and darn it, she's going to get through it all with the same stoicism God gave her. God bless her and her family. I know that Croatia is a Catholic country, but I haven't heard from the media whether she is Catholic. Not a surprise.
I think she's my hero, right along with Picabo Street. I want the humility of Kostilek along with the ferocity of Street.
I actually have the speed and finesse of a turtle, but that's beside the point.
Now on to men's Alpine. Did you see the Super-G tonight? Bode Miller is...well, an enigma. I can't say I condone a lot of what he does and says, yet, in some ways, he is worthy of hero status.
He is a non-conformist. He is out for fun, and just the other day he commented about how the "desire for a medal" is being projected upon him by others. He said he doesn't care whether he wins one or not. He likes his privacy, although quite honestly, his exertions in the bars after races does not lead to much of a private life.
But I do agree with him. Tonight they showed a clip where he was discussing how the constant pressure to exceed and succeed at the higest levels gives young athletes the idea if they can't win they shouldn't even try.
I heartily agree. I'm amazed at the pressure kids have to win at sports, whereas when I grew up it was all about sportsmanship. Sure, winning was great and the whole point of a game was to win the game...but it was ok not to win. That just meant that there was an unmet challenge, and sports were about learning how to overcome while still enjoying the event.
Back to Bode. That man has TALENT! Four years ago I stood in front of a big screet TV at a trade show, watching how Bode fell back on his tails during the slalom portion of the Downhill Combined, regained his balance and finished. I don't remember his result and it doesn't matter. It was an Olympic moment and I doubt that many other skiers could have pulled off that move.
He repeated it again tonight, this time in the Super-G. He was rocking right along until he got into the soft snow, nearly fell, and it appeared we were about to witness a catastrophic crash.
But no, this was Bode Miller.
Bode got his right ski under him and fought to regain control of his left. It was like a figure skater, skiing with one leg extended behind, an acrobatic dance with an out of control ski in the place of a skate blade.
Back and forth, the tip and tail of the left ski hit the ground, torquing and amazing all that it did not simply fly off. Bode seemed to wait it out and then extended his left leg even further, and with great control brought his left leg around, bringing the ski parallel, and back down to where it belonged.
This kind of thing would have killed most people, or at the very best, would have caused broken bones and torn ligaments and much surgery for months to come.
But we're talkin' about Bode.
He defies the odds, and should we really be surprised? After all, he's finished other races on one ski, as in a World Cup event only weeks ago. Incidentally, about 6 years ago or so I saw Dahron Rahlves fall a few times and then finish the Birst of Prey Downhill at Beaver Creek, CO, finish a race on one ski. I think they do it for the World Cup points gained by finishing. Even a bad time is a qualifying time, wheras a DNF is useless.
I now look forward to a miracle with Kristina Koznik and Lindsey Kildow.
And the cool thing is, that I'll even find myself rooting for skiers and competitors of other countries. Take, for example, Kostilek, from Croatia...a girl who grew up in a war-torn country to find "home" on the World Cup circuit, as did her brother who is also competing in Torino. She just took Gold on the women's Downhill Combined. You GO Girl!
What strikes me about her is her humility. Humble roots, trained non-traditionally, and accepting her fame as she has accepted every other challenge of her life...as something God gave her and darn it, she's going to get through it all with the same stoicism God gave her. God bless her and her family. I know that Croatia is a Catholic country, but I haven't heard from the media whether she is Catholic. Not a surprise.
I think she's my hero, right along with Picabo Street. I want the humility of Kostilek along with the ferocity of Street.
I actually have the speed and finesse of a turtle, but that's beside the point.
Now on to men's Alpine. Did you see the Super-G tonight? Bode Miller is...well, an enigma. I can't say I condone a lot of what he does and says, yet, in some ways, he is worthy of hero status.
He is a non-conformist. He is out for fun, and just the other day he commented about how the "desire for a medal" is being projected upon him by others. He said he doesn't care whether he wins one or not. He likes his privacy, although quite honestly, his exertions in the bars after races does not lead to much of a private life.
But I do agree with him. Tonight they showed a clip where he was discussing how the constant pressure to exceed and succeed at the higest levels gives young athletes the idea if they can't win they shouldn't even try.
I heartily agree. I'm amazed at the pressure kids have to win at sports, whereas when I grew up it was all about sportsmanship. Sure, winning was great and the whole point of a game was to win the game...but it was ok not to win. That just meant that there was an unmet challenge, and sports were about learning how to overcome while still enjoying the event.
Back to Bode. That man has TALENT! Four years ago I stood in front of a big screet TV at a trade show, watching how Bode fell back on his tails during the slalom portion of the Downhill Combined, regained his balance and finished. I don't remember his result and it doesn't matter. It was an Olympic moment and I doubt that many other skiers could have pulled off that move.
He repeated it again tonight, this time in the Super-G. He was rocking right along until he got into the soft snow, nearly fell, and it appeared we were about to witness a catastrophic crash.
But no, this was Bode Miller.
Bode got his right ski under him and fought to regain control of his left. It was like a figure skater, skiing with one leg extended behind, an acrobatic dance with an out of control ski in the place of a skate blade.
Back and forth, the tip and tail of the left ski hit the ground, torquing and amazing all that it did not simply fly off. Bode seemed to wait it out and then extended his left leg even further, and with great control brought his left leg around, bringing the ski parallel, and back down to where it belonged.
This kind of thing would have killed most people, or at the very best, would have caused broken bones and torn ligaments and much surgery for months to come.
But we're talkin' about Bode.
He defies the odds, and should we really be surprised? After all, he's finished other races on one ski, as in a World Cup event only weeks ago. Incidentally, about 6 years ago or so I saw Dahron Rahlves fall a few times and then finish the Birst of Prey Downhill at Beaver Creek, CO, finish a race on one ski. I think they do it for the World Cup points gained by finishing. Even a bad time is a qualifying time, wheras a DNF is useless.
I now look forward to a miracle with Kristina Koznik and Lindsey Kildow.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Fiction Writing and the "What If" factor
I decided when I was about 12 or so that I wanted to be a writer. I arrived at this conclusion because I understood that while I could watch things on TV, and read other people's stories about events everywhere, I could not always have the experience directly.
I began writing in earnest when I watched Winning Colors, a filly, win the Kentucky Derby. And I asked myself, "What if a filly won the Triple Crown? What if I was the jockey?"
And those questions lead to other questions, and I found the answers at the tip of my pencil, writing into the late hours of the night. I must have re-written that story time and time again, trying to figure it all out, and as an adult, I am still working on the story. Unfortunately, since my perspective has changed, it has become much more difficult and I am hindered by the fact that I still have not had the opportunity to see the world from the back of a racehorse at a dead run, although I have watched a camera fly out of my shirt pocket while at a full gallop.
So I guess I have the elements, the necessary disconnectedness needed so as to surprise the reader from time to time with seemingly inconsequential moments, and enough experience to extend the imagination.
But I don't have enough facts.
That brings me to my next point. The cool thing about writing fiction is that the process answers the question, "What if?" However, we have to consider the ethics and the morality of our answers.
Given the subject of my particular story, I need more facts. The story is fiction, but the likely audience of such a book would be offended if I got everything wrong. They would want to know why they weren't consulted. People love to talk, to share their stories, and have a personal interest in not seeing their lives, their culture, etc., misrepresented by shoddy work. That's ethics. Don't insult your readers.
Of course, it's impossible to avoid offending everyone, if a story is truthfully told; unless it is fantasy, and even sometimes when it is, people will find something offensive to their delicate sensibilities. I do not suggest that we as writers (or aspiring writers such as myself) go out of our way to offend, but we cannot be afraid of conflict. Without conflict, there is no story, and once the story is out, there may be additional real-world conflict.
I love fiction, I love reading fiction, and long ago, even while recognizing fiction, I wanted truthfulness in the stories I read. I wanted the storyline to be feasable, to make sense, and when it didn't I found myself disappointed.
I think it would be difficult to find someone not in agreement with this. One example I can give is cop shows on TV. They always get stuff wrong, and it drives me crazy. They'd have a better story if they stuck to the truth.
On the other hand, fiction opens doors to suspend reality...back to the "what if" factor. Consider "Demolition Man". One element of that movie addressed the enforcement of law without the use of weapons or force. The movie did not ask us to judge the movie by current police standards, as by their context they defined the parameters of their story to exclude what we understand to be true.
As Christian writers we need to be aware of even a higher standard, namely, as that set down by our faith. We have to be true to Jesus Christ in the words we set down on the page. Debates rage around this topic...use of profanity, use of sexual intimacy, etc. How much is too much? Is it even appropriate to bring it up?
It's difficult to avoid these issues if one is writing truthfully, but it is possible. I offer as an example Bill Kassel, who wrote a couple of great books dealing with the issue of abortion and homosexuality. If you haven't read his work, look him up.
In sum, contiue to ask the question "What if", open your imagination to endless possibilities, and let the Holy Spirit and a well formed conscience be your guide as you discern the limits available to you.
Hmmmm...define "irony"...what if this gets published somewhere like a magazine for Catholic writers? (does any such thing exist?)
I began writing in earnest when I watched Winning Colors, a filly, win the Kentucky Derby. And I asked myself, "What if a filly won the Triple Crown? What if I was the jockey?"
And those questions lead to other questions, and I found the answers at the tip of my pencil, writing into the late hours of the night. I must have re-written that story time and time again, trying to figure it all out, and as an adult, I am still working on the story. Unfortunately, since my perspective has changed, it has become much more difficult and I am hindered by the fact that I still have not had the opportunity to see the world from the back of a racehorse at a dead run, although I have watched a camera fly out of my shirt pocket while at a full gallop.
So I guess I have the elements, the necessary disconnectedness needed so as to surprise the reader from time to time with seemingly inconsequential moments, and enough experience to extend the imagination.
But I don't have enough facts.
That brings me to my next point. The cool thing about writing fiction is that the process answers the question, "What if?" However, we have to consider the ethics and the morality of our answers.
Given the subject of my particular story, I need more facts. The story is fiction, but the likely audience of such a book would be offended if I got everything wrong. They would want to know why they weren't consulted. People love to talk, to share their stories, and have a personal interest in not seeing their lives, their culture, etc., misrepresented by shoddy work. That's ethics. Don't insult your readers.
Of course, it's impossible to avoid offending everyone, if a story is truthfully told; unless it is fantasy, and even sometimes when it is, people will find something offensive to their delicate sensibilities. I do not suggest that we as writers (or aspiring writers such as myself) go out of our way to offend, but we cannot be afraid of conflict. Without conflict, there is no story, and once the story is out, there may be additional real-world conflict.
I love fiction, I love reading fiction, and long ago, even while recognizing fiction, I wanted truthfulness in the stories I read. I wanted the storyline to be feasable, to make sense, and when it didn't I found myself disappointed.
I think it would be difficult to find someone not in agreement with this. One example I can give is cop shows on TV. They always get stuff wrong, and it drives me crazy. They'd have a better story if they stuck to the truth.
On the other hand, fiction opens doors to suspend reality...back to the "what if" factor. Consider "Demolition Man". One element of that movie addressed the enforcement of law without the use of weapons or force. The movie did not ask us to judge the movie by current police standards, as by their context they defined the parameters of their story to exclude what we understand to be true.
As Christian writers we need to be aware of even a higher standard, namely, as that set down by our faith. We have to be true to Jesus Christ in the words we set down on the page. Debates rage around this topic...use of profanity, use of sexual intimacy, etc. How much is too much? Is it even appropriate to bring it up?
It's difficult to avoid these issues if one is writing truthfully, but it is possible. I offer as an example Bill Kassel, who wrote a couple of great books dealing with the issue of abortion and homosexuality. If you haven't read his work, look him up.
In sum, contiue to ask the question "What if", open your imagination to endless possibilities, and let the Holy Spirit and a well formed conscience be your guide as you discern the limits available to you.
Hmmmm...define "irony"...what if this gets published somewhere like a magazine for Catholic writers? (does any such thing exist?)
No More D word
I recieved a heads up from my good friend Ray so I urge you all to check out the link he provided:
http://churchofthemasses.blogspot.com/2006/02/may-19-every-christian-goes-to-movies.html
She is encouraging, in effect, not just a boycott, but for everyone to go to the movies and visit a film other than DVC. She also encourages us not to get into the media fray in refuting the movie...just to let it be. Be silent (and in my estimation, silence can be deadly--for the opposing side, that is).
And so, I will be silent. No more posts about DVC.
HOWEVER! I will read, I will study, and should I meet some poor misguided fool...ahem..I mean, SOUL, then I will use my knowledge to show them the light. Another point of my experience; people do NOT like being duped, and those who have been often complete quite the turnaround and when they see the light, they are ready to GO!
I encourage you all to know as much as you can so as to redirect the individuals, one by one, and so even thorough online silence, we can undermine all the DVC is trying to do.
Call it Catholic Militant Strategy CMS.
http://churchofthemasses.blogspot.com/2006/02/may-19-every-christian-goes-to-movies.html
She is encouraging, in effect, not just a boycott, but for everyone to go to the movies and visit a film other than DVC. She also encourages us not to get into the media fray in refuting the movie...just to let it be. Be silent (and in my estimation, silence can be deadly--for the opposing side, that is).
And so, I will be silent. No more posts about DVC.
HOWEVER! I will read, I will study, and should I meet some poor misguided fool...ahem..I mean, SOUL, then I will use my knowledge to show them the light. Another point of my experience; people do NOT like being duped, and those who have been often complete quite the turnaround and when they see the light, they are ready to GO!
I encourage you all to know as much as you can so as to redirect the individuals, one by one, and so even thorough online silence, we can undermine all the DVC is trying to do.
Call it Catholic Militant Strategy CMS.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Presumption of guilt upon every priest
I heard a blurb on the national news and found this link on www.spiritdaily.com:
http://abclocal.go.com/wls/story?section=local&id=3896911
For those who haven't heard, Cardinal George has issued a directive to all priests living a "double life" to come forward for the sake of the Church.
A priest told ABC7 Friday night that many in ministry feel especially vulnerable now to unfounded accusations. They worry there is now a "presumption of guilt" against any priest accused of abuse.
Father Corapi actually discussed this issue. The Church is under attack by un-Godly forces, and I am not referring to the left-wing media. God forbid that a priest be seen speaking to a woman unsupervised, or hugging a child. The automatic assumption is that the priest is doing something wrong.
That is not to say that some priests aren't guilty of really horrible acts, but now if someone is looking for a settlement, all they have to do is cry "ABUSE!" and the priest has been condemned without trial, his life ruined, a good shephered slaughtered by the wolves, and the flock devastated and scattered, polarized by the controversy.
I'd like to think there's a special place in hell both for unrepentent abusive priests AND the people who cry "wolf" but are the wolves themselves. However, my faith teaches me that such a sentiment is wrong and actually sinful. We cannot either elevate someone to heaven, nor can we damn them to hell, as this judgment is for God alone.
This type of attack has even made the laity wary. Last lent, I had my home blessed. I was hoping to actually make this a more formal affair...have friends over for a small gathering, have the priest bless my home, and stay for dinner. As I was living alone, I figured that both he and I would be more comfortable in the presence of others. I did not fear the priests, I did not worry about impropriety, but I was concerned about public perception. I live in a townhome community and my surrounding neighbors knew I lived alone. Given the bad press about the Church, a priest coming and going may raise suspicion.
Yes, I know I was being ridiculous. Unfortunately, our entire CULTURE is ridiculous and would prefer to assume the worst rather than the best. We live in a world of "Desperate Housewives" according to most, rather than a world of people just trying to do the right thing. Including priests.
The vast majority of our priests are wonderful spiritual fathers; they have and demonstrate integrity, love for Christ, love for the faith, love for the people. When I see a priest, I more often think of purity than I do of acts better left unsaid.
But our culture has taken a truly shattering series of events and has projected the assumption that all priests must be evil and must be kept away from children...and everyone else.
Let's think about this...who would have an interest in crippling our priests, preventing them from doing their jobs? What kind of opportunists (cough DISSIDENTS cough, cough) would use this as a platform from which to project the idea of female priests? What kind of creature would like to see our holy priests prevented from carrying out their duties ordained by God? They can't do much if they are seperated from their flocks under false charges, can they?
I still look back at my fear of having a priest come to my home as I did not want anyone to think anything untoward was going on, and were it not for the media vultures, the constant bombardment of our senses every time something of the Church came up, I would not have had this ridiculous concern.
Consider the media....nearly every time there was a story about the Catholic Church, the media would bring up the "scandals". It didn't matter if it had nothing whatsoever to do with immmoral acts...the media headlines would read, "X happened amidst the ongoing fallout of the scandals from X months/years ago".
As it happened, there was no fanfare when my house was blessed. I asked Father to bless my dog and I for some pet therapy work we were starting at a nursing home (pet visits only, nothing special or technical), and he agreed, offering to come and bless my home. I could have brought my dogs to the Church, but if he wasn't available, it's not like the dogs could have come in and waited for him! So I agreed, but had no time to prepare or invite others as it was the next day. It was simple. He came, he blessed my home, both dogs, and me, and had to leave for other appointments. Not big whoop.
Interestingly enough, the only "fallout" from this visit was another neighbor's concern that someone on my side of the building was ill. He, a non-Catholic, commented to a Catholic neighbor that he saw a priest arrive and go around the corner, and in his estimation, that meant that someone must be seriously ill.
Funny how the media incites us to stupid unfounded fears while the average person actually still retains enough sanity to see a Roman collar and realize that it's more likely to mean that the priest is there to help, not harm. Rather than causing the man to wonder about baser acts, he wondered if he owed a sick neighbor a visit or some assistance. He saw the priest and "the scandals" never crossed his mind. He was drawn to more noble pursuits such as concern for another person.
This gives me hope, but serves to remind that our priests are under a very real attack, and they deserve both our appreciation and our heartfelt prayers.
(It also serves to remind me not to watch too much TV or read the papers too much. Has tainted my mind and my perceptions, so it has.)
God BLESS OUR PRIESTS!
http://abclocal.go.com/wls/story?section=local&id=3896911
For those who haven't heard, Cardinal George has issued a directive to all priests living a "double life" to come forward for the sake of the Church.
A priest told ABC7 Friday night that many in ministry feel especially vulnerable now to unfounded accusations. They worry there is now a "presumption of guilt" against any priest accused of abuse.
Father Corapi actually discussed this issue. The Church is under attack by un-Godly forces, and I am not referring to the left-wing media. God forbid that a priest be seen speaking to a woman unsupervised, or hugging a child. The automatic assumption is that the priest is doing something wrong.
That is not to say that some priests aren't guilty of really horrible acts, but now if someone is looking for a settlement, all they have to do is cry "ABUSE!" and the priest has been condemned without trial, his life ruined, a good shephered slaughtered by the wolves, and the flock devastated and scattered, polarized by the controversy.
I'd like to think there's a special place in hell both for unrepentent abusive priests AND the people who cry "wolf" but are the wolves themselves. However, my faith teaches me that such a sentiment is wrong and actually sinful. We cannot either elevate someone to heaven, nor can we damn them to hell, as this judgment is for God alone.
This type of attack has even made the laity wary. Last lent, I had my home blessed. I was hoping to actually make this a more formal affair...have friends over for a small gathering, have the priest bless my home, and stay for dinner. As I was living alone, I figured that both he and I would be more comfortable in the presence of others. I did not fear the priests, I did not worry about impropriety, but I was concerned about public perception. I live in a townhome community and my surrounding neighbors knew I lived alone. Given the bad press about the Church, a priest coming and going may raise suspicion.
Yes, I know I was being ridiculous. Unfortunately, our entire CULTURE is ridiculous and would prefer to assume the worst rather than the best. We live in a world of "Desperate Housewives" according to most, rather than a world of people just trying to do the right thing. Including priests.
The vast majority of our priests are wonderful spiritual fathers; they have and demonstrate integrity, love for Christ, love for the faith, love for the people. When I see a priest, I more often think of purity than I do of acts better left unsaid.
But our culture has taken a truly shattering series of events and has projected the assumption that all priests must be evil and must be kept away from children...and everyone else.
Let's think about this...who would have an interest in crippling our priests, preventing them from doing their jobs? What kind of opportunists (cough DISSIDENTS cough, cough) would use this as a platform from which to project the idea of female priests? What kind of creature would like to see our holy priests prevented from carrying out their duties ordained by God? They can't do much if they are seperated from their flocks under false charges, can they?
I still look back at my fear of having a priest come to my home as I did not want anyone to think anything untoward was going on, and were it not for the media vultures, the constant bombardment of our senses every time something of the Church came up, I would not have had this ridiculous concern.
Consider the media....nearly every time there was a story about the Catholic Church, the media would bring up the "scandals". It didn't matter if it had nothing whatsoever to do with immmoral acts...the media headlines would read, "X happened amidst the ongoing fallout of the scandals from X months/years ago".
As it happened, there was no fanfare when my house was blessed. I asked Father to bless my dog and I for some pet therapy work we were starting at a nursing home (pet visits only, nothing special or technical), and he agreed, offering to come and bless my home. I could have brought my dogs to the Church, but if he wasn't available, it's not like the dogs could have come in and waited for him! So I agreed, but had no time to prepare or invite others as it was the next day. It was simple. He came, he blessed my home, both dogs, and me, and had to leave for other appointments. Not big whoop.
Interestingly enough, the only "fallout" from this visit was another neighbor's concern that someone on my side of the building was ill. He, a non-Catholic, commented to a Catholic neighbor that he saw a priest arrive and go around the corner, and in his estimation, that meant that someone must be seriously ill.
Funny how the media incites us to stupid unfounded fears while the average person actually still retains enough sanity to see a Roman collar and realize that it's more likely to mean that the priest is there to help, not harm. Rather than causing the man to wonder about baser acts, he wondered if he owed a sick neighbor a visit or some assistance. He saw the priest and "the scandals" never crossed his mind. He was drawn to more noble pursuits such as concern for another person.
This gives me hope, but serves to remind that our priests are under a very real attack, and they deserve both our appreciation and our heartfelt prayers.
(It also serves to remind me not to watch too much TV or read the papers too much. Has tainted my mind and my perceptions, so it has.)
God BLESS OUR PRIESTS!
The Olympics
Considering that the Olymics have begun, I felt that it was time for an entry about the games.
I've always wanted to be an Olympian, ever since I had a cousin who came close and only failed due to a broken bone the day before trials. Something about striving for a medal has always gotten to me, and the elusiveness, the challenge, and the very odds make it something of a holy grail for the average person.
One only has to watch those who win the medals, observe the tears staining their cheeks as they sing their national anthem, in order to understand that this isn't just a superficial event.
Another thing that has often struck me is that here, from all over the world, come athletes to meet and compete against one another, nation by nation, and it is a peaceful affair. Throughout the games, and in the years between, athletes develop friendships with others of their sport and even though they compete with all they have, the rivalry is left to the sport.
I don't like the politics that surrounds everything, so I do my best not to focus on it. Those who do become cynical and turn in to liberal democrats.
Let us offer prayers for all those in Torino, and ask for the intercession of Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati on their behalf. As an American, I do especially pray for the American competetitors, but considering that some countries have only one athlete, I have to say that it would be nice to see them on the podium as well. Overall, let us pray for their safety, for the protection of the volunteers, the workers, the families of all, and those who only watch from the sidelines.
Come to think of it, let us also pray for those who are watching from the comfort of livingrooms, wishing we could be there ourselves.
I've always wanted to be an Olympian, ever since I had a cousin who came close and only failed due to a broken bone the day before trials. Something about striving for a medal has always gotten to me, and the elusiveness, the challenge, and the very odds make it something of a holy grail for the average person.
One only has to watch those who win the medals, observe the tears staining their cheeks as they sing their national anthem, in order to understand that this isn't just a superficial event.
Another thing that has often struck me is that here, from all over the world, come athletes to meet and compete against one another, nation by nation, and it is a peaceful affair. Throughout the games, and in the years between, athletes develop friendships with others of their sport and even though they compete with all they have, the rivalry is left to the sport.
I don't like the politics that surrounds everything, so I do my best not to focus on it. Those who do become cynical and turn in to liberal democrats.
Let us offer prayers for all those in Torino, and ask for the intercession of Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati on their behalf. As an American, I do especially pray for the American competetitors, but considering that some countries have only one athlete, I have to say that it would be nice to see them on the podium as well. Overall, let us pray for their safety, for the protection of the volunteers, the workers, the families of all, and those who only watch from the sidelines.
Come to think of it, let us also pray for those who are watching from the comfort of livingrooms, wishing we could be there ourselves.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Who needs the reality check here?
I'd encourage you all to read the linked article in full, but in reading it, I decided that someone needed to address a couple of problematic paragraphs.
http://www.twincities.com/mld/twincities/news/columnists/13825052.htm
In sum, the article is trashing the idea that Valentine's Day as it is now "celebrated" should be replaced with "A Day for Purity" focusing on teenagers. The highlights I enboldened here draw attention to the very fact that this columnist is completely missing the point.
I'm not sure "moral decline" is really a hot-button issue with today's teens. The word "purity" raises some red flags that human sexuality is somehow impure. I'd also argue with the group's belief that the culture encourages teens to "experiment with their sexual preferences
I'm just going to come right out and re-write this paragraph according to the truth of the situation:
I'm sure that moral decline is not an issue addressed with today's teens. The word "purity" is not discussed with them so they, much like the author of the column, have NO IDEA what human sexuality is all about. I'd argue with the immoral majority's belief that current culture does in fact, out of willful ignorance and a definitive lack of openness to learning the truth, teach teens to experiment profusely and copiously, not with sexuality, but with their sexual organs.
There is no responsible educator in our country who does not include an abstinence message. You don't have to have sex. You don't," says Brigid Riley, executive director of Minnesota Organization on Adolescent Pregnancy, Prevention and Parenting. "But the majority of people will eventually have sex, and with the average age of marriage at 26, most will do it before then."
I'm not entirely sure that our schools hire responsible educators with regards to topics on sexuality. I remember these classes...abstinance was just an afterthought, and from what I have heard, it's gotten worse.
Check out Brigid Riley's quote above. It bears repeating. "But the majority of people will eventually have sex, and with the average age of marriage at 26, most will do it before then."
Oh.....Kay. So maybe we should present the same non-logical argument with regard to the topic of war. Responsible educators do not encourage wars, and in fact teach that people die in them. You don't have to go to war, or acknowledge war..you don't. But the majority of people will eventually be confronted with a war of some sort, or a school shooting, or terrorism...so rather than educating our children in the art of mediation, let's just hand them guns and tell them where the safety button is and where the dangerous end is so that they'll only kill the people they shoot at.
Let's face it, y'all...this woman, and the larger public, needs a reality check. She first has a problem with the idea that "purity" implies that human sexuality is bad. WRONG! Human sexuality is a gift from God. Misusing any gift has consequences. And the misuse of human sexuality is called "impurity".
The rightful use of human sexuality, that is, an intimate, physical expression of love between a married man and woman (married to each other, that is, not to other people), is purity. And even that is not correct. To be specific, human sexuality first is a definition of the person with regard to the specific DNA of that individual which allows for healthy sexual expression. There is nothing inherently impure about sexual expression, only the misuse.
What the immoral majority don't care to understand is the fact that there is such a thing as "immorality". They don't believe in sin, they deny that God actually cares about what they do to themselves and to each other.
People suffer consequences every day of sexual impurity, and I guarantee that NONE of those issues would ever surface if they understood true human sexuality, purity, and morality.
This issue makes me want to shake the dust from my feet and wash my hands, but then I'd walk away as Pontias Pilate did...still wearing the blood of Jesus Christ. As Catholics, we are called to stand out and speak the truth, especially when we don't want to, and we're weary of an unlistening world. Jesus DIED for this miserable, unlistening world, and darn it, if he can give and give until he's given ALL, well, then I'll continue to rant against the illogical fallacy of the culture of death which holds us all prisoner in a society which can do nothing but fall.
God Bless Pope John Paul II, God keep his soul, and God Bless Christopher West and Jason Evert as they work so hard to carry this message. Let us all follow suit and re-educate people. If we can just plant a few seeds, maybe there will be a little more shade for our overheated minds and burning fingers.
http://www.twincities.com/mld/twincities/news/columnists/13825052.htm
In sum, the article is trashing the idea that Valentine's Day as it is now "celebrated" should be replaced with "A Day for Purity" focusing on teenagers. The highlights I enboldened here draw attention to the very fact that this columnist is completely missing the point.
I'm not sure "moral decline" is really a hot-button issue with today's teens. The word "purity" raises some red flags that human sexuality is somehow impure. I'd also argue with the group's belief that the culture encourages teens to "experiment with their sexual preferences
I'm just going to come right out and re-write this paragraph according to the truth of the situation:
I'm sure that moral decline is not an issue addressed with today's teens. The word "purity" is not discussed with them so they, much like the author of the column, have NO IDEA what human sexuality is all about. I'd argue with the immoral majority's belief that current culture does in fact, out of willful ignorance and a definitive lack of openness to learning the truth, teach teens to experiment profusely and copiously, not with sexuality, but with their sexual organs.
There is no responsible educator in our country who does not include an abstinence message. You don't have to have sex. You don't," says Brigid Riley, executive director of Minnesota Organization on Adolescent Pregnancy, Prevention and Parenting. "But the majority of people will eventually have sex, and with the average age of marriage at 26, most will do it before then."
I'm not entirely sure that our schools hire responsible educators with regards to topics on sexuality. I remember these classes...abstinance was just an afterthought, and from what I have heard, it's gotten worse.
Check out Brigid Riley's quote above. It bears repeating. "But the majority of people will eventually have sex, and with the average age of marriage at 26, most will do it before then."
Oh.....Kay. So maybe we should present the same non-logical argument with regard to the topic of war. Responsible educators do not encourage wars, and in fact teach that people die in them. You don't have to go to war, or acknowledge war..you don't. But the majority of people will eventually be confronted with a war of some sort, or a school shooting, or terrorism...so rather than educating our children in the art of mediation, let's just hand them guns and tell them where the safety button is and where the dangerous end is so that they'll only kill the people they shoot at.
Let's face it, y'all...this woman, and the larger public, needs a reality check. She first has a problem with the idea that "purity" implies that human sexuality is bad. WRONG! Human sexuality is a gift from God. Misusing any gift has consequences. And the misuse of human sexuality is called "impurity".
The rightful use of human sexuality, that is, an intimate, physical expression of love between a married man and woman (married to each other, that is, not to other people), is purity. And even that is not correct. To be specific, human sexuality first is a definition of the person with regard to the specific DNA of that individual which allows for healthy sexual expression. There is nothing inherently impure about sexual expression, only the misuse.
What the immoral majority don't care to understand is the fact that there is such a thing as "immorality". They don't believe in sin, they deny that God actually cares about what they do to themselves and to each other.
People suffer consequences every day of sexual impurity, and I guarantee that NONE of those issues would ever surface if they understood true human sexuality, purity, and morality.
This issue makes me want to shake the dust from my feet and wash my hands, but then I'd walk away as Pontias Pilate did...still wearing the blood of Jesus Christ. As Catholics, we are called to stand out and speak the truth, especially when we don't want to, and we're weary of an unlistening world. Jesus DIED for this miserable, unlistening world, and darn it, if he can give and give until he's given ALL, well, then I'll continue to rant against the illogical fallacy of the culture of death which holds us all prisoner in a society which can do nothing but fall.
God Bless Pope John Paul II, God keep his soul, and God Bless Christopher West and Jason Evert as they work so hard to carry this message. Let us all follow suit and re-educate people. If we can just plant a few seeds, maybe there will be a little more shade for our overheated minds and burning fingers.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
The face of a demon?
I'm going to be very candid here. Demonic attacks are REAL, and they happen all the time...including at Mass.
THe last few nights I was not sleeping well as I was having bad, or at least strange dreams, but what was worse was that I would wake up terrified for no apparent reason. My dogs were both sleeping peacefully, so I KNEW there was nothing so dangerous as, say, a fire or someone in the house who didn't belong there.
Last night was different in that I slept well and did not wake up with that odd terror. But I did have a very bad dream. I just happen to be arachnophobic...a phobia which goes back to childhood. It's pretty common, as you well know.
In my dream last night, I was in a crowd somewhere, seated, and suddenly I brought my hand up and screamed as I saw the huge spider attached to me. The thing was black, had a bright red stripe running down each leg, and the bottom portion of the spider's leg was red. I think it had red eyes, too, but I only saw two of them that I can remember.
This spider was larger than my hand, but it clung to my fingers. I couldn't shake it off, I couldn't do anything. And although I screamed and begged for help, the people around me simply acknowledged that the spider was there and failed to do a thing to assist me.
I didn't wake up terrified, which is odd, given the content of the dream, but something worse happened; when I sat at Mass this morning, the image came to me and I could almost FEEL the spider still clinging to my left hand. The panic that washed over me was so strong that I shuddered in revulsion and actually shrunk down where I sat. Tears of panic came to my eyes and I had to focus hard to escape the feeling. Intellectually I KNEW that there was not a spider clinging to my hand, but the images from the dream were very real.
Focusing on the words of the readings was helpful, but it didn't end there.
The homily was about the sacrament of the sick, and while Father spoke about it, suddenly I was overcome by the "knowledge" that I am not long for this world. In short, I am going to die. It was an odd certitude that I could not deny, a type of premonition similar to other premonitions I have had regarding some things. And still I tried to focus on what Father was saying, but the feeling grew stronger, and that sensation of panic returned again. I prayed that I would have the benefit of Confession and the Sacrament of Annointing before I go to my judgment, and I remembered the scapular I am wearing. I prayed to Our Lady for assistance if I really am to die.
Now, keep in mind: I am perfectly healthy. I do not have a terminal illness (as far as I know), and I also know that disasters happen every day. So the thought that I might die isn't so bad. It can goad one into living a better life.
But of course, this was the inappropriate time to think about such things and I needed to focus on the Mass.
But different passages came to me, such as, "Fool! What you don't realize is that this very night your life will be required of you!"
And as I struggled with this, I prayed to the Lord and to my Guardian Angel for assistance, and finally, the words I needed came to me, "I have not given you a spirit of fear...."
I realized that what gripped me was fear. Demon, thy name is Fear, Lord, deliver me from the demon called Fear.
I don't think I actually prayed those words, but I realized that I've been under attack since sometime last night by this insidious beast. The spider clinging to my hand was the face of Fear, and now that I recognize him, with God's hand I can crush him. He cannot torment me when I face him squarely with the Truth that Jesus is Lord and Savior.
And as I knelt during the consecration, the last of the feeling of panic left me, although I sensed that it was still there...just hiding. I prayed for deliverance from this beast, and as I walked up to recieve our Lord, I continually prayed for deliverance. When I returned to my seat and knelt, I could not stop crying..the tears just began to fall. I wasn't sobbing, my eyes were just tearing and for awhile, it felt like a waterfall.
That happens from time to time, but the subject of tears is for another post.
I have experienced attacks of this type before. Last fall at the Eucharistic Congress, during the Mass I felt an amazing oppression which was just crushing. I wanted nothing more than to run from the convention center and into open air. And the closer we got to the consecration, the heavier this weight became. I nearly had to hold onto my chair to keep myself from fleeing. I'm thinking my Guardian Angel may have called in reserves to sit on me, also.
Then as soon as I had recieved Communion, the weight lifted..and as I knelt, the weight lifted more and was gone. The panic was gone, the feeling that I needed to flee the room was GONE.
I KNOW I am not the only one out there to experience these things. I especially know that I am no saint, and this tells me that those who ARE very close to God, or even a few steps closer than I must be suffering this battle constantly.
So! Since I now have about 5 or 6 regular readers...tell me your stories! Maybe post your own on your blog (and then tell me how to link them here).
God Bless and be strong. Let us end with a prayer:
St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.
Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray
And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host
By the power of God
Cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the earth
seeking the ruin of souls.
AMEN!
THe last few nights I was not sleeping well as I was having bad, or at least strange dreams, but what was worse was that I would wake up terrified for no apparent reason. My dogs were both sleeping peacefully, so I KNEW there was nothing so dangerous as, say, a fire or someone in the house who didn't belong there.
Last night was different in that I slept well and did not wake up with that odd terror. But I did have a very bad dream. I just happen to be arachnophobic...a phobia which goes back to childhood. It's pretty common, as you well know.
In my dream last night, I was in a crowd somewhere, seated, and suddenly I brought my hand up and screamed as I saw the huge spider attached to me. The thing was black, had a bright red stripe running down each leg, and the bottom portion of the spider's leg was red. I think it had red eyes, too, but I only saw two of them that I can remember.
This spider was larger than my hand, but it clung to my fingers. I couldn't shake it off, I couldn't do anything. And although I screamed and begged for help, the people around me simply acknowledged that the spider was there and failed to do a thing to assist me.
I didn't wake up terrified, which is odd, given the content of the dream, but something worse happened; when I sat at Mass this morning, the image came to me and I could almost FEEL the spider still clinging to my left hand. The panic that washed over me was so strong that I shuddered in revulsion and actually shrunk down where I sat. Tears of panic came to my eyes and I had to focus hard to escape the feeling. Intellectually I KNEW that there was not a spider clinging to my hand, but the images from the dream were very real.
Focusing on the words of the readings was helpful, but it didn't end there.
The homily was about the sacrament of the sick, and while Father spoke about it, suddenly I was overcome by the "knowledge" that I am not long for this world. In short, I am going to die. It was an odd certitude that I could not deny, a type of premonition similar to other premonitions I have had regarding some things. And still I tried to focus on what Father was saying, but the feeling grew stronger, and that sensation of panic returned again. I prayed that I would have the benefit of Confession and the Sacrament of Annointing before I go to my judgment, and I remembered the scapular I am wearing. I prayed to Our Lady for assistance if I really am to die.
Now, keep in mind: I am perfectly healthy. I do not have a terminal illness (as far as I know), and I also know that disasters happen every day. So the thought that I might die isn't so bad. It can goad one into living a better life.
But of course, this was the inappropriate time to think about such things and I needed to focus on the Mass.
But different passages came to me, such as, "Fool! What you don't realize is that this very night your life will be required of you!"
And as I struggled with this, I prayed to the Lord and to my Guardian Angel for assistance, and finally, the words I needed came to me, "I have not given you a spirit of fear...."
I realized that what gripped me was fear. Demon, thy name is Fear, Lord, deliver me from the demon called Fear.
I don't think I actually prayed those words, but I realized that I've been under attack since sometime last night by this insidious beast. The spider clinging to my hand was the face of Fear, and now that I recognize him, with God's hand I can crush him. He cannot torment me when I face him squarely with the Truth that Jesus is Lord and Savior.
And as I knelt during the consecration, the last of the feeling of panic left me, although I sensed that it was still there...just hiding. I prayed for deliverance from this beast, and as I walked up to recieve our Lord, I continually prayed for deliverance. When I returned to my seat and knelt, I could not stop crying..the tears just began to fall. I wasn't sobbing, my eyes were just tearing and for awhile, it felt like a waterfall.
That happens from time to time, but the subject of tears is for another post.
I have experienced attacks of this type before. Last fall at the Eucharistic Congress, during the Mass I felt an amazing oppression which was just crushing. I wanted nothing more than to run from the convention center and into open air. And the closer we got to the consecration, the heavier this weight became. I nearly had to hold onto my chair to keep myself from fleeing. I'm thinking my Guardian Angel may have called in reserves to sit on me, also.
Then as soon as I had recieved Communion, the weight lifted..and as I knelt, the weight lifted more and was gone. The panic was gone, the feeling that I needed to flee the room was GONE.
I KNOW I am not the only one out there to experience these things. I especially know that I am no saint, and this tells me that those who ARE very close to God, or even a few steps closer than I must be suffering this battle constantly.
So! Since I now have about 5 or 6 regular readers...tell me your stories! Maybe post your own on your blog (and then tell me how to link them here).
God Bless and be strong. Let us end with a prayer:
St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.
Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray
And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host
By the power of God
Cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the earth
seeking the ruin of souls.
AMEN!
Monday, January 30, 2006
DaVinci Code - again!
Recently, local Catholic media personality, Lino Rulli, was heard on the radio discussing this upcoming movie. I'm paraphrasing a little, here, but this is the gist of what he said:
"Let's look at this. First of all, he claims that an ITALIAN, listen, an ITALIAN. Kept a secret. Now I'm Italian, and I KNOW Italians can't keep secrets. I mean, we like to talk so much that we talk with our HANDS!" (Lino, although it's unlikely that you'll read this, if you do, please correct my quote and I'll edit to reflect what you actuallly said verbatum)
So it goes. First Dan Brown says an Italian kept a secret, then we are to believe that a feminist believes some crazy guy about an unbelievable "code" drawn into DaVinci's artwork.
Riiiiiight. A feminist. Believing a MAN about a CODE which is NOT backed up by historical fact.
Oh, that's right...there is no historical fact in this book.
And yet the gullible American public, as usual, bought this hook, line, and sinker.
Boy, are Americans stupid. I'm sometimes embarassed on behalf of us. This is one of those times. Someday I'm going to have to answer to what Americans have inflicted upon the world, and I just don't have an answer for Dan Brown. I'm going to just have to apologize and change the subject.
I am constantly astounded by otherwise "intelligent" people have gone on and on about the "great research" Dan Brown did in his book.
I agreed! Yes, you heard me. One HAS to research that well in order to get everything so DELIBERATELY wrong! One has to be quite the con man to use "the Louvre" as a credit to his book, when he only walked im the door and looked at some paintings, and walked out again. Bet he had YOU believing that he actually worked with the curator to develop his "thesis".
I actually spoke with a friend/co-worker today who was raised Catholic, but is not really living Catholic. You know the type. Somehow this travesty of a book came up, and she suggested that "It's just a matter of interpretation."
BOY, did I jump in at that point! I pointed out several fallacies....like the Priory of Scion...made up by a French convict in the 60's. Yup. Brown's alleged "research". St. John as Mary Magdalene in the "Last Supper". She tried the "interpretation" remark again, but her apathy could not withstand the flood of fact.
Finally she turned away and admitted, "I really don't know that much about it."
I agreed with her. I told her that most people don't know much about it, and that's why they fell for the lies.
I would LOVE To see Oprah go off on Dan Brown, but she won't. Why would she?
Dan Brown is a hero to anti-Catholics and anti-Christians everywhere. He's a hero to "progressives" of every faith.
I won't quite go so far as to say that Dan Brown is the anti-Christ, but he sure works for him.
"Let's look at this. First of all, he claims that an ITALIAN, listen, an ITALIAN. Kept a secret. Now I'm Italian, and I KNOW Italians can't keep secrets. I mean, we like to talk so much that we talk with our HANDS!" (Lino, although it's unlikely that you'll read this, if you do, please correct my quote and I'll edit to reflect what you actuallly said verbatum)
So it goes. First Dan Brown says an Italian kept a secret, then we are to believe that a feminist believes some crazy guy about an unbelievable "code" drawn into DaVinci's artwork.
Riiiiiight. A feminist. Believing a MAN about a CODE which is NOT backed up by historical fact.
Oh, that's right...there is no historical fact in this book.
And yet the gullible American public, as usual, bought this hook, line, and sinker.
Boy, are Americans stupid. I'm sometimes embarassed on behalf of us. This is one of those times. Someday I'm going to have to answer to what Americans have inflicted upon the world, and I just don't have an answer for Dan Brown. I'm going to just have to apologize and change the subject.
I am constantly astounded by otherwise "intelligent" people have gone on and on about the "great research" Dan Brown did in his book.
I agreed! Yes, you heard me. One HAS to research that well in order to get everything so DELIBERATELY wrong! One has to be quite the con man to use "the Louvre" as a credit to his book, when he only walked im the door and looked at some paintings, and walked out again. Bet he had YOU believing that he actually worked with the curator to develop his "thesis".
I actually spoke with a friend/co-worker today who was raised Catholic, but is not really living Catholic. You know the type. Somehow this travesty of a book came up, and she suggested that "It's just a matter of interpretation."
BOY, did I jump in at that point! I pointed out several fallacies....like the Priory of Scion...made up by a French convict in the 60's. Yup. Brown's alleged "research". St. John as Mary Magdalene in the "Last Supper". She tried the "interpretation" remark again, but her apathy could not withstand the flood of fact.
Finally she turned away and admitted, "I really don't know that much about it."
I agreed with her. I told her that most people don't know much about it, and that's why they fell for the lies.
I would LOVE To see Oprah go off on Dan Brown, but she won't. Why would she?
Dan Brown is a hero to anti-Catholics and anti-Christians everywhere. He's a hero to "progressives" of every faith.
I won't quite go so far as to say that Dan Brown is the anti-Christ, but he sure works for him.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Beggar to Rookie of the Year...a story of God's Grace
When I was a little girl, I watched competetive Alpine (downhill) skiing on TV, and I was so intrigued and fired up that I begged my parents to take me to a ski hill to learn. Mom told me that there wasn't anywhere to go nearby (we lived in Byron, IL), and that it was too expensive, anyway.
Back to programming.....
We had a pair of red plastic Fischer-Price "skis" likely purchased at Ben Franklin's in downtown Byron (pop. 2,000), and I took them to the neighbor's hill across the street...and was sorely disappointed. I might have been a child, but I knew "profane" from "legitimate" skis. These were definitely PROFANE.
I remember waking from a dream when I was about 7 or so...I dreamed that I had been able to obtain a pair of skis...and when I opened my eyes, there they were! But as I reached for them, they disolved and I awoke, just as had my dream-horse in the back yard. Such is the life of a child.
I gave up on a lot of things as I got older, but a couple incessant longings remained: to own a horse (still not realized, but came close, still a goal), and the desire to learn to ski.
Fast forwarding...when I was 17, I finally went skiing for the first time...and when the bunny hill just wasn't teaching me anything other than how to tip over on flat ground, I jumped on the lift and I went to the top. It looked like a small hill...I later learned it was a "blue square", or an intermediate run. Meaning people skiing on it should actually have some faction of control. Not me. This took place at Afton Alps in Afton, MN, and while it was no mountain to real mountain people...it was HUGE to me! I remember being excited to be gathering speed and still in a vertical position...until the hill took a sharp downward and right-hand curve..forcing me to either go through the snow fence and over the cliff or learn how to turn. I learned how to turn and that became my favorite hill.
Fast forward again. My third or forth time skiing, I went to Wild Mountain in Taylors Falls, MN, at the age of 25 or so. I was taking an EMT class at the time and I saw the ski patrol. I knew they were volunteer, but more importantly...they were SKIING AND using the training I was then learning. I spoke to the patrollers that day, and that same week, the season ended due to spring temps...and spring.
I was honest when I told him that I was a novice skier, but my medical training and NREMT score was tempting to him...so he said "Yes" over the phone and signed me up for training.
The medical part, Outdoor Emergency Care, was the same thing as EMT but academically easier, and the practicals MUCH more in-depth, more realistic...and so far better. But the hill training..I still had to pass that in order to earn the right to wear the red jacket with the white cross.
We had a warm fall, and a warm winter...right up until near Christmas. I was nervous...I knew I needed to prove myself, and I needed to work hard, but I didn't have the snow required for this.
Finally, the temps fell, and finally runs were open. I went out with some fellow classmates from OEC, to the two open runs...a "Blue" and a "Black" run, respectively. I had purchased skis at a second hand store, but they were both too long and too stiff for me...and I couldn't turn...and in the warm temps and resulting sticky snow...I couldn't ski more than 5 feet without falling over.
A friend of mine from class, took me to the top of the black run, "Wild", and instructed me to follow him. He never had any formal lessons, just learned as I was...but as a child when the ground was closer and fearlessness was a given. He instructed me, "Hold your hands out as if you're handing someone a couple of beers. Keep your hands like that and follow me, turn where I turn.."
Two of our OEC instructors, a husband and wife team, stood at the top watching this. J said, "I don't think this is a good idea..." I didn't think it was a good idea, either. But I trusted my friend, and as fearful as I was, I wanted to wear the coveted red jacket more. I followed...and I didn't crash even once.
Another Patroller, an experienced Hill Instructor, was there that evening and, apparently impressed by what he saw (I was doing parallel turns, apparently that was amazing), he gave me my first ski lesson ever.
From that point on, every time I went up to ski, which was about 4-5 times per week, or more, I got a lesson whether I wanted one or not. I got to know the Patrollers and Instructors, they got to know me, and this was a group of people willing to give someone a leg up, as impossible as it seemed. One instructor in particular, one of our hill instructors, took me under his wing. He was an ex-member of the US Ski team (I have yet to verify this officially although on my own shift I skied with an ex-US Ski team Nordic Ski Jumper), he was a PSIA Level III instructor, and became an Examiner that year. He was a phenomimal skier, and he and another Level I Instructor took me under their wings and taught me the basics and the meat.
During formal hill training, initially I and another woman were seperated from the rest of the group because we didn't have the proficiency, but finally, they let me join for the toboggan training. They deemed that my skiing was proficient enough to be able to safely handle the toboggan and not kill anyone. . The other woman was a grad student, and she did not complete this part of the training because of her grad school schedule. She passes out of this segment, and to date, remains on the Patrol as far as I am aware.
I worked hard, I put in the "mileage" as they put it, and a week before the dreaded hill test, they gave us a practice session. I had not crashed in weeks, but for some reason, once we got to that test, I did nothing but crash! They told me to do a medium radius turn: I crashed. They told me to do a hockey-stop: I crashed. They told me to traverse and kick turn: I crashed.
"You can't keep doing this to yourself. You are here at all hours and you just can't keep it up. Something has to give. You need a break before the test. You can't keep driving yourself so hard and burning the candle at both ends." I almost cried. It was the first time I realized that they actually KNEW how hard I was working and how disappointed in myself I was.
Finally, he left me alone. Then my "trainer", the ex-US Ski team patroller/ Instructor approached, and he gave me the "coach" speech. He told me that I was expecting too much out of myself, I had become one of the stronger skiers of the group but if I didn't settle down I wouldn't make it.
Then we got to the formal meeting. I met with both the Patrol Director and the Ex-ski-team guy, who was my main instructor (I am privileged...he is expensive and his lessons for me were free). We three conferred on my ability to do the job. Was I qualified to take the test?
P. the phenomenal skier/trainer told me in the face of the Patrol Director:
I agreed.
He went on, "But we look at potential. You have become one of our strongest skiers on the entire Patrol, and if you keep it up, you are only going to get better. But not like this. You need a break. Some people won't make it tonight, but it's not just because of tonight, but because of every performance. We do not see tonight as being typical of your skiing."
I held my breath, and they told me they would allow me to take the test. I nearly collapsed in relief and joy!
It was the following Saturday, and yes, I passed with flying colors. God is good! I consider this one of my crowning achievements.
I also began racing that winter, and was already doing so by the time I took the test. I was miserable at it, but loved the challenge. But I found a flaw...succeeding at racing was NOT the same as succeeding at the Patrol, and I found that I was overly-goal-oriented but couldn't deliver.
I knew intellectually what I needed to do, but I couldn't make my skis obey. I couldn't live up to my expectations, and this lead to much frustration.
Because we ALL have stories like this. We all have successess we worked hard for, and subsequent challenges we were unable to meet.
For myself, and as it relates to current Catholic culture and defense...well, I learned that I have a competetive streak I never knew I had. I learned that I can accomplish the impossible with LOTS of help, but that doesn't mean I can do it all.
I also recieved an excellent example of the manifestation of Christ to others. Remember...EVERY TIME I went up to the hill, I got a lesson, and I never had to ask. In fact, I would have preferred to have been left alone. But they wouldn't. In looking back, when I passed that test, a lot of people won. It wasn't about me, it wans't about the Patrol, but rather, it was about all the people who literally pushed me through the obstacle I wasn't sure I could overcome.
Then when I got "good", I got full of myself. I knew I had a lot to learn, no doubt. I did not pretend to be the skier I could never be, but I still held the expecation that I could overcome...and it wasn't to happen. I was a decent racer, but not a GREAT racer. I didn't have the time or the experience or the money to focus on racing. As much as I loved it, it was not to be. But that didn't make me stop trying or feeling the rush of a "personal best". Nothing like being in the moment, being in "the zone".
I often wonder about this. I look back on my life, and I wonder why I have succeeded at something which required so much. What place does this have in God's kingdom? What does this have to do with mine or anyone else's salvation?
In turning it over, I have come to a few conclusions: I learned about how to be generous in an everyday kind of way. Consider all the people who helped me. When I started, I really wanted to pass the hill test and become a patroller, but had you seen my lack of skiing ability, you would have rolled your eyes...as did many patrollers and fellow classmates. And yet, they stepped up to the plate. They did not accept me at face value and subsequently dismiss me as hopeless, but rather, they welcomed me to their "family" and BOOSTED me far beyond anyone's expectations.
Is not God's hand in this? Is there not a lesson here?
And personally, more intimately, I learned that I had a competetive streak. I learned that I had an iron rod in my spine and once I had a goal in mind, there was no stopping me. I learned about my own willingness to work hard for something "impossible". On the flip side, I learned that I was also very sulky when things didn't go well. I won't go so far as to say that I was a sore loser as I never begrudged anyone their earned spot, but I was very hard on myself when I did not meet my own expectations.
Now, I have to take and apply these things. It's not a matter of being competetive anymore, or a matter of skiing well. Now it's a matter of wanting to defend Christ.
Jesus, the Church, rather than skiing, is my ultimate passion. The Church is my home, my family, and when it is attacked, I feel that old biting edge and I'm ready to go.
But the problem is this; I'm not really READY to go! I don't know enough, I'm not disciplined enough, and I'm a loose cannon. My Catholocity is like my novice skiing...I am alll over the place and crashing everywhere, even in front of the people who know what they're doing and doing it well. I'm getting in my way and into the way of others.
As in skiing, I need an instructor or two, I need the kind of training that will check me every time I go into it. I need someone standing over me with a ruler to measure my ability (or lack thereof) because the LAST thing I want to do is to go into the DaVinci Class in Eden Prairie and dishonor the Church and lose souls because I'm overzealous and undertrained.
I trust in God, but not in myself and my own abilities.
I learned that I love the speed and the challenge, but when I focus on these things, I lose out on the goal. I'm Bode Miller, in other words. (Skiers will know what I'm talking about).
We all have stories to tell. We all have had to learn things in strange ways and thats what makes life interesting.
I realize that I am well within another lesson, but I really feel like I am doing this without an instructor and without the textbook. I have lots of resources, sure...but no lesson plan.
I'm a Catholic in need of a lesson plan and a test that isn't part of the real thing, and it's hard to accept the fact that being Catholic isn't just a class...it's reality, and the final result of the tests we take every day will not appear for a very long time.
What am I trying to say? To pay attention to today's lessons, to write it all down, and when this crisis or achievement has passed, you'll learn the lesson in reverse but use the knowledge going forward.
God bless you all, especially if you got this far without falling asleep. And if you fell asleep while trying...well, then sweet dreams, my friend!
As an aside...
Parents, NEVER do this to your children! I was a shy wallflower of a child. Expressing an interest such as this was a BIG DEAL and I was CRUSHED until adulthood because the almighty dollar became Satan in our lives. That's a different story, but relevant. It became the reason "not to do" a lot of things, instead of just trusting in God to provide! Parents, let your children try stuff, and don't let finances be the be-all-end-all to all decisions! Trust God, not money! Thank you!
Back to programming.....
We had a pair of red plastic Fischer-Price "skis" likely purchased at Ben Franklin's in downtown Byron (pop. 2,000), and I took them to the neighbor's hill across the street...and was sorely disappointed. I might have been a child, but I knew "profane" from "legitimate" skis. These were definitely PROFANE.
I remember waking from a dream when I was about 7 or so...I dreamed that I had been able to obtain a pair of skis...and when I opened my eyes, there they were! But as I reached for them, they disolved and I awoke, just as had my dream-horse in the back yard. Such is the life of a child.
I gave up on a lot of things as I got older, but a couple incessant longings remained: to own a horse (still not realized, but came close, still a goal), and the desire to learn to ski.
Fast forwarding...when I was 17, I finally went skiing for the first time...and when the bunny hill just wasn't teaching me anything other than how to tip over on flat ground, I jumped on the lift and I went to the top. It looked like a small hill...I later learned it was a "blue square", or an intermediate run. Meaning people skiing on it should actually have some faction of control. Not me. This took place at Afton Alps in Afton, MN, and while it was no mountain to real mountain people...it was HUGE to me! I remember being excited to be gathering speed and still in a vertical position...until the hill took a sharp downward and right-hand curve..forcing me to either go through the snow fence and over the cliff or learn how to turn. I learned how to turn and that became my favorite hill.
Fast forward again. My third or forth time skiing, I went to Wild Mountain in Taylors Falls, MN, at the age of 25 or so. I was taking an EMT class at the time and I saw the ski patrol. I knew they were volunteer, but more importantly...they were SKIING AND using the training I was then learning. I spoke to the patrollers that day, and that same week, the season ended due to spring temps...and spring.
Praise God that the Patrol Director never got the chance to ski with me..he would have said,
"NO WAY!"
I was honest when I told him that I was a novice skier, but my medical training and NREMT score was tempting to him...so he said "Yes" over the phone and signed me up for training.
The medical part, Outdoor Emergency Care, was the same thing as EMT but academically easier, and the practicals MUCH more in-depth, more realistic...and so far better. But the hill training..I still had to pass that in order to earn the right to wear the red jacket with the white cross.
We had a warm fall, and a warm winter...right up until near Christmas. I was nervous...I knew I needed to prove myself, and I needed to work hard, but I didn't have the snow required for this.
Finally, the temps fell, and finally runs were open. I went out with some fellow classmates from OEC, to the two open runs...a "Blue" and a "Black" run, respectively. I had purchased skis at a second hand store, but they were both too long and too stiff for me...and I couldn't turn...and in the warm temps and resulting sticky snow...I couldn't ski more than 5 feet without falling over.
A friend of mine from class, took me to the top of the black run, "Wild", and instructed me to follow him. He never had any formal lessons, just learned as I was...but as a child when the ground was closer and fearlessness was a given. He instructed me, "Hold your hands out as if you're handing someone a couple of beers. Keep your hands like that and follow me, turn where I turn.."
Two of our OEC instructors, a husband and wife team, stood at the top watching this. J said, "I don't think this is a good idea..." I didn't think it was a good idea, either. But I trusted my friend, and as fearful as I was, I wanted to wear the coveted red jacket more. I followed...and I didn't crash even once.
Another Patroller, an experienced Hill Instructor, was there that evening and, apparently impressed by what he saw (I was doing parallel turns, apparently that was amazing), he gave me my first ski lesson ever.
From that point on, every time I went up to ski, which was about 4-5 times per week, or more, I got a lesson whether I wanted one or not. I got to know the Patrollers and Instructors, they got to know me, and this was a group of people willing to give someone a leg up, as impossible as it seemed. One instructor in particular, one of our hill instructors, took me under his wing. He was an ex-member of the US Ski team (I have yet to verify this officially although on my own shift I skied with an ex-US Ski team Nordic Ski Jumper), he was a PSIA Level III instructor, and became an Examiner that year. He was a phenomimal skier, and he and another Level I Instructor took me under their wings and taught me the basics and the meat.
During formal hill training, initially I and another woman were seperated from the rest of the group because we didn't have the proficiency, but finally, they let me join for the toboggan training. They deemed that my skiing was proficient enough to be able to safely handle the toboggan and not kill anyone. . The other woman was a grad student, and she did not complete this part of the training because of her grad school schedule. She passes out of this segment, and to date, remains on the Patrol as far as I am aware.
I worked hard, I put in the "mileage" as they put it, and a week before the dreaded hill test, they gave us a practice session. I had not crashed in weeks, but for some reason, once we got to that test, I did nothing but crash! They told me to do a medium radius turn: I crashed. They told me to do a hockey-stop: I crashed. They told me to traverse and kick turn: I crashed.
This was a mini-judgment day. It was like trying to qualify for the Olympic team...
and I did nothing but crash.
That evening, as I sat in the "lounge" waiting for my dreaded meeting with the Patrol Director, I was approached twice. First by one of the hill instructors, who had a daughter about my age. He gave me the "Dad" speech.
"You can't keep doing this to yourself. You are here at all hours and you just can't keep it up. Something has to give. You need a break before the test. You can't keep driving yourself so hard and burning the candle at both ends." I almost cried. It was the first time I realized that they actually KNEW how hard I was working and how disappointed in myself I was.
Finally, he left me alone. Then my "trainer", the ex-US Ski team patroller/ Instructor approached, and he gave me the "coach" speech. He told me that I was expecting too much out of myself, I had become one of the stronger skiers of the group but if I didn't settle down I wouldn't make it.
Then we got to the formal meeting. I met with both the Patrol Director and the Ex-ski-team guy, who was my main instructor (I am privileged...he is expensive and his lessons for me were free). We three conferred on my ability to do the job. Was I qualified to take the test?
P. the phenomenal skier/trainer told me in the face of the Patrol Director:
"You skied like s*** tonight. If this had been the test you would have failed."
I agreed.
He went on, "But we look at potential. You have become one of our strongest skiers on the entire Patrol, and if you keep it up, you are only going to get better. But not like this. You need a break. Some people won't make it tonight, but it's not just because of tonight, but because of every performance. We do not see tonight as being typical of your skiing."
I held my breath, and they told me they would allow me to take the test. I nearly collapsed in relief and joy!
It was the following Saturday, and yes, I passed with flying colors. God is good! I consider this one of my crowning achievements.
I also began racing that winter, and was already doing so by the time I took the test. I was miserable at it, but loved the challenge. But I found a flaw...succeeding at racing was NOT the same as succeeding at the Patrol, and I found that I was overly-goal-oriented but couldn't deliver.
I knew intellectually what I needed to do, but I couldn't make my skis obey. I couldn't live up to my expectations, and this lead to much frustration.
Now...why is ANY of this relevant to ANYTHING?
Because we ALL have stories like this. We all have successess we worked hard for, and subsequent challenges we were unable to meet.
For myself, and as it relates to current Catholic culture and defense...well, I learned that I have a competetive streak I never knew I had. I learned that I can accomplish the impossible with LOTS of help, but that doesn't mean I can do it all.
I also recieved an excellent example of the manifestation of Christ to others. Remember...EVERY TIME I went up to the hill, I got a lesson, and I never had to ask. In fact, I would have preferred to have been left alone. But they wouldn't. In looking back, when I passed that test, a lot of people won. It wasn't about me, it wans't about the Patrol, but rather, it was about all the people who literally pushed me through the obstacle I wasn't sure I could overcome.
Then when I got "good", I got full of myself. I knew I had a lot to learn, no doubt. I did not pretend to be the skier I could never be, but I still held the expecation that I could overcome...and it wasn't to happen. I was a decent racer, but not a GREAT racer. I didn't have the time or the experience or the money to focus on racing. As much as I loved it, it was not to be. But that didn't make me stop trying or feeling the rush of a "personal best". Nothing like being in the moment, being in "the zone".
I often wonder about this. I look back on my life, and I wonder why I have succeeded at something which required so much. What place does this have in God's kingdom? What does this have to do with mine or anyone else's salvation?
In turning it over, I have come to a few conclusions: I learned about how to be generous in an everyday kind of way. Consider all the people who helped me. When I started, I really wanted to pass the hill test and become a patroller, but had you seen my lack of skiing ability, you would have rolled your eyes...as did many patrollers and fellow classmates. And yet, they stepped up to the plate. They did not accept me at face value and subsequently dismiss me as hopeless, but rather, they welcomed me to their "family" and BOOSTED me far beyond anyone's expectations.
Is not God's hand in this? Is there not a lesson here?
And personally, more intimately, I learned that I had a competetive streak. I learned that I had an iron rod in my spine and once I had a goal in mind, there was no stopping me. I learned about my own willingness to work hard for something "impossible". On the flip side, I learned that I was also very sulky when things didn't go well. I won't go so far as to say that I was a sore loser as I never begrudged anyone their earned spot, but I was very hard on myself when I did not meet my own expectations.
Now, I have to take and apply these things. It's not a matter of being competetive anymore, or a matter of skiing well. Now it's a matter of wanting to defend Christ.
Jesus, the Church, rather than skiing, is my ultimate passion. The Church is my home, my family, and when it is attacked, I feel that old biting edge and I'm ready to go.
But the problem is this; I'm not really READY to go! I don't know enough, I'm not disciplined enough, and I'm a loose cannon. My Catholocity is like my novice skiing...I am alll over the place and crashing everywhere, even in front of the people who know what they're doing and doing it well. I'm getting in my way and into the way of others.
As in skiing, I need an instructor or two, I need the kind of training that will check me every time I go into it. I need someone standing over me with a ruler to measure my ability (or lack thereof) because the LAST thing I want to do is to go into the DaVinci Class in Eden Prairie and dishonor the Church and lose souls because I'm overzealous and undertrained.
I trust in God, but not in myself and my own abilities.
I learned that I love the speed and the challenge, but when I focus on these things, I lose out on the goal. I'm Bode Miller, in other words. (Skiers will know what I'm talking about).
We all have stories to tell. We all have had to learn things in strange ways and thats what makes life interesting.
I realize that I am well within another lesson, but I really feel like I am doing this without an instructor and without the textbook. I have lots of resources, sure...but no lesson plan.
I'm a Catholic in need of a lesson plan and a test that isn't part of the real thing, and it's hard to accept the fact that being Catholic isn't just a class...it's reality, and the final result of the tests we take every day will not appear for a very long time.
What am I trying to say? To pay attention to today's lessons, to write it all down, and when this crisis or achievement has passed, you'll learn the lesson in reverse but use the knowledge going forward.
God bless you all, especially if you got this far without falling asleep. And if you fell asleep while trying...well, then sweet dreams, my friend!
Friday, January 27, 2006
Now here's something....odd, something you might not expect from this blog.
I'm an Audi TT!
You're not the fastest, nor the most nimble, but you're cute and you have style. You're not intensely competitive, but when you pass by, everyone turns to look.
Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.
Update on the Davinci Crud in Eden Prairie
I just got off the phone with the Catholic Defense League as I decided that this kind of thing was right up their alley.
I provided the web links to the Community Education website and to Ms. Vigilante's article.
For those who are interested, here is the info for CDL:
in St. Paul: 651-766-7896
website: www.cdlmn.org
Unfortunately, I can't provide any info for other states, but fellow Minnesotans may want to copy their info down.
I provided the web links to the Community Education website and to Ms. Vigilante's article.
For those who are interested, here is the info for CDL:
in St. Paul: 651-766-7896
website: www.cdlmn.org
Unfortunately, I can't provide any info for other states, but fellow Minnesotans may want to copy their info down.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Anyone interested in debunking DaVinci Code...live in Eden Prairie?
I just read Curt Jester's blog:
http://www.splendoroftruth.com/curtjester
(( just as an aside...why can't I get links to work using html? If I use the link insertion feature, not only can readers not click on the link, but it becomes completely invisible! On to regular programming.....))
In reading Susan Vigilante's artical, I decided it would be fun for those of us Twin Cities' MN bloggers and friends of bloggers to cut loose and face up to this heresy live and in person.
Here's the link for the article:
http://www.nationalreview.com/comment/vigilante200601260813.asp
Take a gander. For those who have not read them, there are some great resources: "The Davinci Hoax" by Carl E. Olson and Sandra Meisner, and "Cracking DaVinci Code" published by Catholic Answers. I believe Amy Welbourne has a book also...can't remember the title.
It would be fun to go to this class and debunk the teacher's theories with hard evidence...maybe even check out the resources from public libraries.
It might be worth it, though, to actually get a group together to "study", assign which resources to obtain from the library as proof for our own case, and print documents regarding the (lack of) credible resources for Dan Brown. The Heretic.
Anyone in? I'm going to need to find out when this class is, though...may need to take some time off work just to be able to go.
I just love the idea of "stumping the ignoramus". What's plural of that?
Ignoramu? Humana Estupidii?
http://www.splendoroftruth.com/curtjester
(( just as an aside...why can't I get links to work using html? If I use the link insertion feature, not only can readers not click on the link, but it becomes completely invisible! On to regular programming.....))
In reading Susan Vigilante's artical, I decided it would be fun for those of us Twin Cities' MN bloggers and friends of bloggers to cut loose and face up to this heresy live and in person.
Here's the link for the article:
http://www.nationalreview.com/comment/vigilante200601260813.asp
Take a gander. For those who have not read them, there are some great resources: "The Davinci Hoax" by Carl E. Olson and Sandra Meisner, and "Cracking DaVinci Code" published by Catholic Answers. I believe Amy Welbourne has a book also...can't remember the title.
It would be fun to go to this class and debunk the teacher's theories with hard evidence...maybe even check out the resources from public libraries.
It might be worth it, though, to actually get a group together to "study", assign which resources to obtain from the library as proof for our own case, and print documents regarding the (lack of) credible resources for Dan Brown. The Heretic.
Anyone in? I'm going to need to find out when this class is, though...may need to take some time off work just to be able to go.
I just love the idea of "stumping the ignoramus". What's plural of that?
Ignoramu? Humana Estupidii?
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
How to tell if you're a Catholic
If you are Catholic, you accept and hold as your own the following Creed:
I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth
I believe in Jesus Christ, his only son, our Lord.
Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit
Born of the Virgin Mary
Suffered under Pontias Pilate,
Was crucified, died, and was buried.
He descended into Hell, rose again and is seated at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty
And will come to judge the living and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Spirit
The Holy Catholic Church
The Communion of Saints
The forgiveness of sins
The resurrection of the body
And life everlasting, AMEN!
If you believe AND FOLLOW the above, then this is a sign you are at least trying to be Catholic.
******
How, then, do you tell that you are NOT Catholic, but only claim to be Catholic: you follow the following creed:
I believe in Mother Earth/Gaia/a higher being
who is most likely a woman
And the Earth is her womb
I believe that Jesus was a prophet who said a few good things but we can disregard most of it because he taught us to be inclusive and follow our consciences and we were not bound by his words.
I believe that Jesus was not crucified to teach us about redemptive suffering or to save our souls, because we're all ok, but rather to help us learn about social justice issues such as HIV and sex without protection.
I believe that there is no such thing as sin because this is an outmoded ideal and the Church needs to catch up and get with the times.
I believe that all governments should be as Pro-Choice as Pontias Pilate, and it's OK to be personally opposed as long as we wash our hands if we disagree, but still tolerate the bloodshed that follows and not allow our own morality to be imposed upon someone else, especially if the populace sentences that lump of flesh our religion sometimes calls "Jesus" to die a brutal death.
I believe in an afterlife of some sort involving 49 virgins, or maybe reincarnation, and that God doesn't really care what we do as long as we're good people, then we can go to this place some people call "heaven", and it likely involves lots of sex and chocolate. Gay couples are likely married there.
But heaven is most likely a democratic victory and only those who follow our savior, John Kerry will be acceptable because he is our version of God.
Amen
Be prepared for the next installment of how to identify your "Catholicness".
I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth
I believe in Jesus Christ, his only son, our Lord.
Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit
Born of the Virgin Mary
Suffered under Pontias Pilate,
Was crucified, died, and was buried.
He descended into Hell, rose again and is seated at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty
And will come to judge the living and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Spirit
The Holy Catholic Church
The Communion of Saints
The forgiveness of sins
The resurrection of the body
And life everlasting, AMEN!
If you believe AND FOLLOW the above, then this is a sign you are at least trying to be Catholic.
******
How, then, do you tell that you are NOT Catholic, but only claim to be Catholic: you follow the following creed:
I believe in Mother Earth/Gaia/a higher being
who is most likely a woman
And the Earth is her womb
I believe that Jesus was a prophet who said a few good things but we can disregard most of it because he taught us to be inclusive and follow our consciences and we were not bound by his words.
I believe that Jesus was not crucified to teach us about redemptive suffering or to save our souls, because we're all ok, but rather to help us learn about social justice issues such as HIV and sex without protection.
I believe that there is no such thing as sin because this is an outmoded ideal and the Church needs to catch up and get with the times.
I believe that all governments should be as Pro-Choice as Pontias Pilate, and it's OK to be personally opposed as long as we wash our hands if we disagree, but still tolerate the bloodshed that follows and not allow our own morality to be imposed upon someone else, especially if the populace sentences that lump of flesh our religion sometimes calls "Jesus" to die a brutal death.
I believe in an afterlife of some sort involving 49 virgins, or maybe reincarnation, and that God doesn't really care what we do as long as we're good people, then we can go to this place some people call "heaven", and it likely involves lots of sex and chocolate. Gay couples are likely married there.
But heaven is most likely a democratic victory and only those who follow our savior, John Kerry will be acceptable because he is our version of God.
Amen
Be prepared for the next installment of how to identify your "Catholicness".
Monday, January 23, 2006
"Don't let your fear destroy you"
What an odd title, don't'cha think?
But it got your attention, didn't it?
Several years ago I was encouraged by my boyfriend at the time to take the local firefighter test (full time professional dept. of a large city). It was something I have to admit I had thought about ever since I was a little girl, but never thought I would really do. I did not see myself as athletically gifted, although I had discovered throughout the years that I DID have natural athletic abilities in several sports which were unfortunately, not discovered until adulthood. But I never had the confidance.
I knew what the job was about, I knew the issues women face, and I knew the lesbian agenda ruled all in this department. And I didn't want to deal with that hostility. I knew the inside scoop, and it frightened me. I knew going in that the work environment was hostile from every angle; but then again, so was much of what I had ever done.
I was ripe for a challenge, and with a strong supporter, and his friends, I tested the water...I went to a practice session sponsored by the Women's Association. And although the test kicked my in-shape rear end harder than it had ever been kicked, I bought a T-shirt, and I was committed.
I began training in earnest. I went down to Minnehaha Falls in Minneapolis and I ran stair circuits: down the stairs, across the bottom, up a larger and longer set, and with my legs burning and my lungs groaning, I forced myself to "jog it out" across the top, run down, across, back up...etc.,. I lifted weights and rejoiced in adding more weight, and I began to really see results. It was amazing.
I prayed a lot, still a non-practicing Catholic, but I never stopped believing in God, and I was occasionally attending Mass, asking for help as I underwent this physical trial.
In the beginning, I wasn't sure I wanted the "prize", which was The Job (that's how we refer to it). And I faltered. I felt my own previous lack of confidance, I was once again the little girl who was last to be chosen for a team...and I wondered what I was doing.
Childhood cruelty lasts beyond childhood, friends. Even when it's overcome and "gone", the memories are still haunting. Always last to be chosen as a child...now trying to become a firefighter. A FEMALE firefighter. Riiiiight.
So I just prayed, and one day, I questioned what I was trying to do and I strongly considered quitting. What was I training for? What was I trying to do? I was terrified of climbing ladders, had no idea why, but it was a HUGE part of the job!
I remembered as a child being shown into a partially burned home, the home of a neighbor. A child had started the fire by playing with matches. When it got out of control he threw the matchbook under the bed and the rest is history. Everyone survived, but what was left of the house was black with soot, acrid to the lungs and terrifying from the outside.
I still remember watching the fire trucks go by in our rural neighborhood, a very unusual sight, and I remember the darkening summer evening sky, the huge summer storm, and Mom making us pray the rosary for whoever was in trouble. As soon as it was done she left and drove through the neighborhood to see what she could do for whomever had just lost their home. My brother and I just watched the storm and learned the details later on.
A few days later Mom got the key and led us into the house. I didn't want to go in. It was dark. It was scary. It was black, it was wet. The floor was still drenched with water, the air acrid, making me cough, making my eyes water. I began to cry.
Mom showed us this as a lesson, and it terrified me. I never was prone to playing with matches, and after that, there was NO chance whatsoever.
Fast forward to my training for the fire dept. You understand some of the fear I had, much was ridiculous, some was ludicrous and mysterious phobia but very real to me, much was still from childhood fear. So I prayed and I considered just dropping it entirely.
One day, early on in this process, I began to drift off for a much needed afternoon nap. Just as I fell alseep, I heard a loud, harsh voice directly in my ear:
DON'T LET YOUR FEAR DESTROY YOU
I awoke at once, terrified, looking around. No one was there. I questioned the source..a dream? A demonic attack? An angel?
I considered everything, and what it came down to was this: I knew who was the author of fear: Satan. I was being held back and considering dropping this entire thing not because of lack of qualification, but FEAR. When I went to training sessions, I was doing well and other women, women who were accomplished athletes, were asking ME for advice. Another woman, one with experience in this, offered to help me even more and we trained together, sharing our goal and choosing to work together. Even so, I was afraid that I was not good enough. I was afraid of success, I was afraid of rejection, I was afraid of failure. No matter where I turned, fear of some sort gripped me. I realized that I had been given a very important message; one that deserved serious consideration. Was I letting my fear destroy me?
The voice still scared me...that one sentence. And no, during my psychological exam prior to being hired, I did NOT reveal this experience. This was between God and me.
And whenever I faltered in training, whenever I was beset by despair, whenever I thought I was "done for" while working through the test, I remembered the voice, "DON'T LET YOUR FEAR DESTROY YOU."
I was hired, I was forced to face several fears, several challenges, and when it comes down to it, those were the most important tasks. I suffered an injury in training which ended my firefighting career, but by then I was ready to go. I was done, and apparently did what God sent me to do.
Every so often I look back, and I question why all those doors were opened, why I worked so hard for what turned out to ultimately be a "failure". But there was no failure.
In the end, the Lord won. Firstly, he kep me praying...A LOT! He made me face fears and find that tenacity deep within my soul that he gave me from birth...and he helped me to make choices which glorified him, even though no one else knew about it.
I will never forget hanging over the cement apron, thinking no one was holding the rope at the bottom, and losing the rope in my own pathetic hand, thinking that I was literally a millimeter away from dropping 5 stories. I will never forget my desperate rasp "Please, God", and in my mind's eye, I see my guardian angel, holding the rope, helping me work it into my hand, helping me find that survival instinct, resolving that I WOULD NOT FALL, even if I had to hang there in purgation forever. I remember having to climb ladders in different positions...straight up and down (really), from ground to roof ladders, walking the ridgeline 3 stories above the cement...etc.
God sent me into my fear, but he did not send me alone, and he gave my guardian angel a message to pass on.....DON'T LET YOUR FEAR DESTROY YOU.
Had I quit, I would never have faced those fears. I would never have found that tenacity, that willpower, that place deep within myself that made me strive to be more than I thought I could be. He helped me to find that place, because in all liklihood, I will need it again, but then, in a battle for Truth.
God may use everyday things in order to help us identify the traits he gave us, and the learning may be painful, it may be terrifying, it may even seem like a failure. But in the end, God wins, he helps us win, and he forces us to overcome when we'd rather just walk away.
Maybe if there's demand I'll tell the specific stories, but the point of this post is this: don't make your guardian angel speak to you. Stop and listen to God, remember that he is the Creator, not the author of fear and confusion.
When you are afraid, lean on God, call upon Jesus, and trust in the angels he sent you. They may usually be silent...but if they speak...listen. Their message may change your life.
It has already changed mine, and I hope my sharing it may also change yours.
I leave you the folloiwng Pulic Service Announcement, straight from the Heavenly Father...from his heart straight to yours:
DON'T LET YOUR FEAR DESTROY YOU
But it got your attention, didn't it?
Several years ago I was encouraged by my boyfriend at the time to take the local firefighter test (full time professional dept. of a large city). It was something I have to admit I had thought about ever since I was a little girl, but never thought I would really do. I did not see myself as athletically gifted, although I had discovered throughout the years that I DID have natural athletic abilities in several sports which were unfortunately, not discovered until adulthood. But I never had the confidance.
I knew what the job was about, I knew the issues women face, and I knew the lesbian agenda ruled all in this department. And I didn't want to deal with that hostility. I knew the inside scoop, and it frightened me. I knew going in that the work environment was hostile from every angle; but then again, so was much of what I had ever done.
I was ripe for a challenge, and with a strong supporter, and his friends, I tested the water...I went to a practice session sponsored by the Women's Association. And although the test kicked my in-shape rear end harder than it had ever been kicked, I bought a T-shirt, and I was committed.
I began training in earnest. I went down to Minnehaha Falls in Minneapolis and I ran stair circuits: down the stairs, across the bottom, up a larger and longer set, and with my legs burning and my lungs groaning, I forced myself to "jog it out" across the top, run down, across, back up...etc.,. I lifted weights and rejoiced in adding more weight, and I began to really see results. It was amazing.
I prayed a lot, still a non-practicing Catholic, but I never stopped believing in God, and I was occasionally attending Mass, asking for help as I underwent this physical trial.
In the beginning, I wasn't sure I wanted the "prize", which was The Job (that's how we refer to it). And I faltered. I felt my own previous lack of confidance, I was once again the little girl who was last to be chosen for a team...and I wondered what I was doing.
Childhood cruelty lasts beyond childhood, friends. Even when it's overcome and "gone", the memories are still haunting. Always last to be chosen as a child...now trying to become a firefighter. A FEMALE firefighter. Riiiiight.
So I just prayed, and one day, I questioned what I was trying to do and I strongly considered quitting. What was I training for? What was I trying to do? I was terrified of climbing ladders, had no idea why, but it was a HUGE part of the job!
I remembered as a child being shown into a partially burned home, the home of a neighbor. A child had started the fire by playing with matches. When it got out of control he threw the matchbook under the bed and the rest is history. Everyone survived, but what was left of the house was black with soot, acrid to the lungs and terrifying from the outside.
I still remember watching the fire trucks go by in our rural neighborhood, a very unusual sight, and I remember the darkening summer evening sky, the huge summer storm, and Mom making us pray the rosary for whoever was in trouble. As soon as it was done she left and drove through the neighborhood to see what she could do for whomever had just lost their home. My brother and I just watched the storm and learned the details later on.
A few days later Mom got the key and led us into the house. I didn't want to go in. It was dark. It was scary. It was black, it was wet. The floor was still drenched with water, the air acrid, making me cough, making my eyes water. I began to cry.
Mom showed us this as a lesson, and it terrified me. I never was prone to playing with matches, and after that, there was NO chance whatsoever.
Fast forward to my training for the fire dept. You understand some of the fear I had, much was ridiculous, some was ludicrous and mysterious phobia but very real to me, much was still from childhood fear. So I prayed and I considered just dropping it entirely.
One day, early on in this process, I began to drift off for a much needed afternoon nap. Just as I fell alseep, I heard a loud, harsh voice directly in my ear:
DON'T LET YOUR FEAR DESTROY YOU
I awoke at once, terrified, looking around. No one was there. I questioned the source..a dream? A demonic attack? An angel?
I considered everything, and what it came down to was this: I knew who was the author of fear: Satan. I was being held back and considering dropping this entire thing not because of lack of qualification, but FEAR. When I went to training sessions, I was doing well and other women, women who were accomplished athletes, were asking ME for advice. Another woman, one with experience in this, offered to help me even more and we trained together, sharing our goal and choosing to work together. Even so, I was afraid that I was not good enough. I was afraid of success, I was afraid of rejection, I was afraid of failure. No matter where I turned, fear of some sort gripped me. I realized that I had been given a very important message; one that deserved serious consideration. Was I letting my fear destroy me?
The voice still scared me...that one sentence. And no, during my psychological exam prior to being hired, I did NOT reveal this experience. This was between God and me.
And whenever I faltered in training, whenever I was beset by despair, whenever I thought I was "done for" while working through the test, I remembered the voice, "DON'T LET YOUR FEAR DESTROY YOU."
I was hired, I was forced to face several fears, several challenges, and when it comes down to it, those were the most important tasks. I suffered an injury in training which ended my firefighting career, but by then I was ready to go. I was done, and apparently did what God sent me to do.
Every so often I look back, and I question why all those doors were opened, why I worked so hard for what turned out to ultimately be a "failure". But there was no failure.
In the end, the Lord won. Firstly, he kep me praying...A LOT! He made me face fears and find that tenacity deep within my soul that he gave me from birth...and he helped me to make choices which glorified him, even though no one else knew about it.
I will never forget hanging over the cement apron, thinking no one was holding the rope at the bottom, and losing the rope in my own pathetic hand, thinking that I was literally a millimeter away from dropping 5 stories. I will never forget my desperate rasp "Please, God", and in my mind's eye, I see my guardian angel, holding the rope, helping me work it into my hand, helping me find that survival instinct, resolving that I WOULD NOT FALL, even if I had to hang there in purgation forever. I remember having to climb ladders in different positions...straight up and down (really), from ground to roof ladders, walking the ridgeline 3 stories above the cement...etc.
God sent me into my fear, but he did not send me alone, and he gave my guardian angel a message to pass on.....DON'T LET YOUR FEAR DESTROY YOU.
Had I quit, I would never have faced those fears. I would never have found that tenacity, that willpower, that place deep within myself that made me strive to be more than I thought I could be. He helped me to find that place, because in all liklihood, I will need it again, but then, in a battle for Truth.
God may use everyday things in order to help us identify the traits he gave us, and the learning may be painful, it may be terrifying, it may even seem like a failure. But in the end, God wins, he helps us win, and he forces us to overcome when we'd rather just walk away.
Maybe if there's demand I'll tell the specific stories, but the point of this post is this: don't make your guardian angel speak to you. Stop and listen to God, remember that he is the Creator, not the author of fear and confusion.
When you are afraid, lean on God, call upon Jesus, and trust in the angels he sent you. They may usually be silent...but if they speak...listen. Their message may change your life.
It has already changed mine, and I hope my sharing it may also change yours.
I leave you the folloiwng Pulic Service Announcement, straight from the Heavenly Father...from his heart straight to yours:
DON'T LET YOUR FEAR DESTROY YOU
Pray for Father Debruycker at SJA!
jdebruycker@stjoan.com
Check out the above e-mail address. Copy/paste it into a fresh new e-mail, and send this priest your ENCOURAGEMENT and let him know you are praying for him!
I heard from a trusted friend today, who had heard from another trusted person...so in other words, this is heresay (not heresy, though), that this priest is TRYING HARD to overcome this battle. He needs help NOW! SO PRAY! FAST! PRAY AND FAST SOME MORE! AND DO IT QUICKLY!
Would you want people to yawn, wait, and then "get around to it" if you were fighting demons? I didn't think so. So stop sitting there and PRAY!
Our Father.....
Hail Mary.....
Glory be......
St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.....
LORD HEAR OUR PRAYER!
Check out the above e-mail address. Copy/paste it into a fresh new e-mail, and send this priest your ENCOURAGEMENT and let him know you are praying for him!
I heard from a trusted friend today, who had heard from another trusted person...so in other words, this is heresay (not heresy, though), that this priest is TRYING HARD to overcome this battle. He needs help NOW! SO PRAY! FAST! PRAY AND FAST SOME MORE! AND DO IT QUICKLY!
Would you want people to yawn, wait, and then "get around to it" if you were fighting demons? I didn't think so. So stop sitting there and PRAY!
Our Father.....
Hail Mary.....
Glory be......
St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.....
LORD HEAR OUR PRAYER!
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Stick to your guns! Truth is NOT determined by popular opinion!
Sometimes I have to laugh at the rabid feminist extremists, the secularists, the "Cafeteria Catholics", etc., those who continue to demand that the Church change in order to meet their idea of "morality". I have to laugh at the man with two names, referenced in a previous post, who has chosen to change history according to his own agenda only to accuse the writers of scripture to have done exactly that.
I have to laugh, because we as solid Christians already know the end of this battle, we already know who wins...and every so often I need to remind myself of that for fear I take all of this too seriously. That's not to negate our own part in this spiritual battle, but rather, it reaffirms it and helps us to refocus; we are warriors, we have been called to be so, and we need to keep our eyes on Jesus. We need to keep our confidance in Jesus and remember the example he set, his promise that he will always be with us, and the command to continue his work.
This is my way of continuing that work, as pitiful as it may seem.
A couple weeks ago I heard someone on Relevant Radio (AM 1330 in the Twin Cities metro area, Minnesota) stating that if the Church did change her position on certain hotbutton topics, ie contraception, abortion, euthanasia, etc., then this would NOT obtain more followers, but people would both leave in droves and the Church would be the rightful butt of much derision.
Who hasn't heard the term "stick to your guns!" It's one thing to acknowledge that you are wrong; it's another to give up your position when you know you are RIGHT! And in the case of the Catholic Church, being "right" does not belong to us, the followers of Jesus, but rather to our Triune God. It is He who commands us to stick to our guns.
I happened to remember an incident from my teenage/young adult years. My best friend was somewhat of a wild card and she continued, constantly, along with other friends and acquaintances to wear me down to committ a certain act which was mortally sinful. I did not say much, just went on my way, knowing right from wrong. This was not a huge outright battle, but one which just wore away at me; much as rain does at at sandstone rock face. Much as the ocean wears on the rocks of the shoreline..it is gradual, not an outright attack. It is commmonly referred to as "Peer pressure" which can indeed take out our retaining walls with a Category 5 sustained blast, but more often, it just happens over time.
My best friend never said much, just told me her stories, shared her "fun", and waited for me to pass judgment. I never did, although I did tell her that what she was doing was dangerous to herself and others, it was beneath her dignity, etc...she knew all of this and became very defensive so I always dropped it.
She suffered consequences, but refused to relent...she was having too much fun.
Finally, finally, I gave in to this sin. Willfully, under much pressure by some others, and the next day I was bitten by remorse. I didn't know what to do. I felt horrible...I had given in to this thing that "everyone else" said was "OK" and "Right", but in committing the act, I knew deep within my soul that it was wrong and that I was changed forever for giving up the ship, for not sticking to my guns.
I traded morality for popularity. I traded morality for what I thought was respect, only to learn that I was nothing but another sinner...and I already knew I was a sinner, anyway. And in the end, I lost the respect of all those I had trusted and believed before.
It was empty, and I felt empty. There is no victory when you wave a white flag, and that's a lesson we all need to learn. It is better to die standing your ground than to lose your soul by forfeiture.
I went to my best friend and I confessed my deed to her, looking for strength. I wanted to share my feelings, explain them, thinking she must have felt the same way. By the way she'd spoken on occasion, I was sure she had felt the same but covered it.
Instead of consoling me, she added insult to injury. She told me, "See? Now you're no better than I am so you can't say ANYTHING!"
What does someone say to that? I had never before realized that she saw me as a "better person" for not engaging in that particular sin while everyone else raged around me. I had never before understood that she thought I thought myself better than her as a person because I had withstood the pressure until that point.
I understood after my confession to her that she now saw me as a HYPOCRITE. In capital letters, just like that.
And when she responded to me like that, I was crushed. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what to do, and I didn't know where to go. By giving in to the pressure and confessing my weakness to her, rather than having respect for me, rather than giving me the big "thumbs up" and "welcome to the club!", she tore me down. She attacked me where it hurt the most, and rather than strengthening our bond, I had forfeited any possible "leadership to Christ" I might have possessed. I had poisoned any seeds I might have sown, unknowing that they were even there.
I remember thinking I could go to her, this having been a barrier between us to some degree. I thought that if others knew that I had done this, they would see me differently and finally accept me. But that's not what happened. I, being one of the last holdouts, became the lowest of the low. I became trash.
It still hurts to think about this, but I post it because I would like those of you who question the Church's stance on morality to really remember some point in your life when you felt like this. When did you hold your place, knowing you were right, only to give in to the pressure and learn that you would have at least "died" well had you stood your ground?
If the Church did what I did, and what you have done, and followed human nature, she would not be the Church, and God would not be God; he would be just a guy behind a curtain with an artificially amplified voice...very much like the ACLU.
If the Church caved in and "decided" that contraception, abortion, euthanasia, Holy Communion for all comers was acceptable, then she would not be respected, she would NOT be a part of the club, and she would not obtain more followers. Jesus would not be seen as he is, our Savior, but would be slandered as a wimp. His name would not change hearts, his Church would lose all ability to speak out against any evil in the world, because the culture would cry out, "What do you have to say, you Papists? What do YOU have to say about it, Mr. Pope! What do you have to say about it Catholic Church! You're just the same as us! You gave in! I can't believe you fell for it! NOW I have less respect than I ever did, and NOW I have the RIGHT to trample you because YOU have proven me CORRECT and you have NO AUTHORITY!"
Truth does not give in, it does not quit, it does not fall to challenge, it is not changed by a vote of any kind. Truth is eternal.
Individually, we are imperfect, and we fall, and we are trampled.
And if the Church changed according to demand, the Church would fall. This will never happen, because the Catholic Church is guided by the Holy Spirit as established by Jesus Christ himself. Have you noticed that some denominations have fallen and some will fall--because they have chosen to change according to the winds of the culture? Have you taken note of that?
Those who make up the Church on the human side are imperfect in nature, and individually, they can and do fall, but their individual failings do NOT change the Moral Truth and the Faith taught by Jesus Christ and Sacred Tradition.
I will close with one of my favorite Pope Benedict XVI quotes, spoken while he was still Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger: "TRUTH IS NOT DETERMINED BY A MAJORITY VOTE"
As the Church has stood for centuries, so must we as individuals stand as holy warriors for Christ, and so must we continue to uphold and fight for the truth. Our personal example may not reach many, but even if a few are affected when we stick to our guns, then the world can be changed for the better and countless souls may enter the gates of heaven by the very grace of God.
Stick to your guns, my friends. The Truth is your sword. Use it well.
I have to laugh, because we as solid Christians already know the end of this battle, we already know who wins...and every so often I need to remind myself of that for fear I take all of this too seriously. That's not to negate our own part in this spiritual battle, but rather, it reaffirms it and helps us to refocus; we are warriors, we have been called to be so, and we need to keep our eyes on Jesus. We need to keep our confidance in Jesus and remember the example he set, his promise that he will always be with us, and the command to continue his work.
This is my way of continuing that work, as pitiful as it may seem.
A couple weeks ago I heard someone on Relevant Radio (AM 1330 in the Twin Cities metro area, Minnesota) stating that if the Church did change her position on certain hotbutton topics, ie contraception, abortion, euthanasia, etc., then this would NOT obtain more followers, but people would both leave in droves and the Church would be the rightful butt of much derision.
Who hasn't heard the term "stick to your guns!" It's one thing to acknowledge that you are wrong; it's another to give up your position when you know you are RIGHT! And in the case of the Catholic Church, being "right" does not belong to us, the followers of Jesus, but rather to our Triune God. It is He who commands us to stick to our guns.
I happened to remember an incident from my teenage/young adult years. My best friend was somewhat of a wild card and she continued, constantly, along with other friends and acquaintances to wear me down to committ a certain act which was mortally sinful. I did not say much, just went on my way, knowing right from wrong. This was not a huge outright battle, but one which just wore away at me; much as rain does at at sandstone rock face. Much as the ocean wears on the rocks of the shoreline..it is gradual, not an outright attack. It is commmonly referred to as "Peer pressure" which can indeed take out our retaining walls with a Category 5 sustained blast, but more often, it just happens over time.
My best friend never said much, just told me her stories, shared her "fun", and waited for me to pass judgment. I never did, although I did tell her that what she was doing was dangerous to herself and others, it was beneath her dignity, etc...she knew all of this and became very defensive so I always dropped it.
She suffered consequences, but refused to relent...she was having too much fun.
Finally, finally, I gave in to this sin. Willfully, under much pressure by some others, and the next day I was bitten by remorse. I didn't know what to do. I felt horrible...I had given in to this thing that "everyone else" said was "OK" and "Right", but in committing the act, I knew deep within my soul that it was wrong and that I was changed forever for giving up the ship, for not sticking to my guns.
I traded morality for popularity. I traded morality for what I thought was respect, only to learn that I was nothing but another sinner...and I already knew I was a sinner, anyway. And in the end, I lost the respect of all those I had trusted and believed before.
It was empty, and I felt empty. There is no victory when you wave a white flag, and that's a lesson we all need to learn. It is better to die standing your ground than to lose your soul by forfeiture.
I went to my best friend and I confessed my deed to her, looking for strength. I wanted to share my feelings, explain them, thinking she must have felt the same way. By the way she'd spoken on occasion, I was sure she had felt the same but covered it.
Instead of consoling me, she added insult to injury. She told me, "See? Now you're no better than I am so you can't say ANYTHING!"
What does someone say to that? I had never before realized that she saw me as a "better person" for not engaging in that particular sin while everyone else raged around me. I had never before understood that she thought I thought myself better than her as a person because I had withstood the pressure until that point.
I understood after my confession to her that she now saw me as a HYPOCRITE. In capital letters, just like that.
And when she responded to me like that, I was crushed. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what to do, and I didn't know where to go. By giving in to the pressure and confessing my weakness to her, rather than having respect for me, rather than giving me the big "thumbs up" and "welcome to the club!", she tore me down. She attacked me where it hurt the most, and rather than strengthening our bond, I had forfeited any possible "leadership to Christ" I might have possessed. I had poisoned any seeds I might have sown, unknowing that they were even there.
I remember thinking I could go to her, this having been a barrier between us to some degree. I thought that if others knew that I had done this, they would see me differently and finally accept me. But that's not what happened. I, being one of the last holdouts, became the lowest of the low. I became trash.
It still hurts to think about this, but I post it because I would like those of you who question the Church's stance on morality to really remember some point in your life when you felt like this. When did you hold your place, knowing you were right, only to give in to the pressure and learn that you would have at least "died" well had you stood your ground?
If the Church did what I did, and what you have done, and followed human nature, she would not be the Church, and God would not be God; he would be just a guy behind a curtain with an artificially amplified voice...very much like the ACLU.
If the Church caved in and "decided" that contraception, abortion, euthanasia, Holy Communion for all comers was acceptable, then she would not be respected, she would NOT be a part of the club, and she would not obtain more followers. Jesus would not be seen as he is, our Savior, but would be slandered as a wimp. His name would not change hearts, his Church would lose all ability to speak out against any evil in the world, because the culture would cry out, "What do you have to say, you Papists? What do YOU have to say about it, Mr. Pope! What do you have to say about it Catholic Church! You're just the same as us! You gave in! I can't believe you fell for it! NOW I have less respect than I ever did, and NOW I have the RIGHT to trample you because YOU have proven me CORRECT and you have NO AUTHORITY!"
Truth does not give in, it does not quit, it does not fall to challenge, it is not changed by a vote of any kind. Truth is eternal.
Individually, we are imperfect, and we fall, and we are trampled.
And if the Church changed according to demand, the Church would fall. This will never happen, because the Catholic Church is guided by the Holy Spirit as established by Jesus Christ himself. Have you noticed that some denominations have fallen and some will fall--because they have chosen to change according to the winds of the culture? Have you taken note of that?
Those who make up the Church on the human side are imperfect in nature, and individually, they can and do fall, but their individual failings do NOT change the Moral Truth and the Faith taught by Jesus Christ and Sacred Tradition.
I will close with one of my favorite Pope Benedict XVI quotes, spoken while he was still Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger: "TRUTH IS NOT DETERMINED BY A MAJORITY VOTE"
As the Church has stood for centuries, so must we as individuals stand as holy warriors for Christ, and so must we continue to uphold and fight for the truth. Our personal example may not reach many, but even if a few are affected when we stick to our guns, then the world can be changed for the better and countless souls may enter the gates of heaven by the very grace of God.
Stick to your guns, my friends. The Truth is your sword. Use it well.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Singin' wi' th' band
I was watching "American Idol" tonight. I love the auditions, mostly because long ago I wanted to be an actress or a professional singer/musician. I can still feel my palms sweating.
God was good to me...the first time I ever sang...in public...and not only for the ear of my class music teacher, I did it because I HAD to sing in order to get the part I wanted.
I wanted to be "Annie" in "Annie get your Gun". A woman at my parish helped me to prepare. I still have no idea why. She was very involved in Community Theatre, and maybe she saw herself in my own longing to be on stage. So she helped me to prepare a song, and she was instrumental in boosting my confidence.
When I went the audition, I did not really believe I would get the lead. But I played it up, I had a good time, and maybe that's what they saw in me. I kept being called up to perform...and to sing. I had to sing a song I didn't know, and I was terrified.
They called me with a strange offer...to play "Annie" for 2 weeks until their Chosen finished with her finals at college. I was 15 going on 16, and I was in love...so I accepted the offer. And for that 2 weeks, I lived a dream. And I learned that I could sing, but had a long way to go to be "good".
It was OK, though. I was not jealous. I was disappointed, but that 2 weeks was a gift on a silver platter, and I was happy to have it. I look back now and realize that although I was enthusiastic, and passionate, and motivated...I was humble. I did not expect more, and in fact, believe I got more than I deserved. I was so grateful for the opportunity. I wish I had retained that trait.
When I was 20, I spent a semester in Mexico. By then, I knew I had a decent singing voice, although many of my closest friends had no idea. I was into my gung-ho feminist attitudes then, had moved away from the idea of a career, or even a hobby in theatre (although my heart told me different), and it was a secret longing...to sing on stage.
Well, in Puerto Escondido, one evening, I remember standing at the bar with my friends. When we walked in the band was performing the Eagles' "Hotel California". I knew the song well and had this melancholy feeling...I wanted to perform.
I said to my friends, "I want to sing!"
I didn't know the bar manager was standing behind me. Suddenly he grabbed my arm, led me up to the band and ordered me to sing!
I was flabbergasted. While I DID want to perform, I had no desire to make a donkey's rear out of myself in doing so. I was a part of a small group of Americans and I was stuck with them for at least another 40 days until we got home...and then, until graduation.
So I spoke to the band, and we came to an agreement...when I heard them start a song I knew, I would come up and sing. They had never heard me, only took it on good faith that I could carry a tune.
I was terrified. What had I done?
Then they began to play "Stand By Me".
I rushed up and they actuallly handed me the main mike. I took the mike in my shaking hand and sang, "When the night..has come..."
Then came the second verse. I was a flautist also at the time and I had a finely attuned ear. I KNEW when to stop, I could hear dischord and it rattled me if I heard it. I KNEW I was off-key somehow, but something told me to keep going. Trusting that instinct, I continued on and let it flow.
Let me just say that this band played everything with a blues rhythm, a blues style, and when I sang that second verse, I had apparently caught their "soul". I was the predominant singer..but I was singing harmony, not the melody. And somehow, I had begun doing this naturally. The band's lead singer joined, and I think he sang an random melody...hard to explain. But somehow, it WORKED!
I remember looking out at my friends, and they stared at me in astonishment as these notes came out of my mouth. I smiled and sang at them, thinking that there was NO WAY this could POSSIBLY be me.
It was incredible, it was amazing, and I KNEW I could not have done this if I tried.
I sang one other song with this band that night, "La Bamba" (define "irony"...a 20 year old American woman singing "La Bamba" in Spanish, in a tiny coastal town in Mexico).
I don't need "American Idol".
I'm not a great singer. My friends were amazed at the time of my little performance, and perhaps the gift I displayed deserved their astonishment...I was surprised too, after all.
But I'm not an "Idol". I'll never sing like Alicia Keys...but I know that with my voice, I can glorify God...and that's MORE than enough.
Don't be so shocked. Even wannabe devout Catholics can sing!
And so can you. Catholics have this reputation for being horrible singers, and maybe this is in part to some very bad choral directors in various parishes (although, as I understand it, Protestant churches suffer from bad songleaders also).
So open your mouth, and at least TRY...that's all the Lord asks of you. Don't think about how you sound...just offer your voice to God and let Him do the work.
You'll be amazed when he takes over, whether in singing or any other venue...when God takes the reins, you KNOW it...just don't forget to give him the credit.
God bless, and good night!
God was good to me...the first time I ever sang...in public...and not only for the ear of my class music teacher, I did it because I HAD to sing in order to get the part I wanted.
I wanted to be "Annie" in "Annie get your Gun". A woman at my parish helped me to prepare. I still have no idea why. She was very involved in Community Theatre, and maybe she saw herself in my own longing to be on stage. So she helped me to prepare a song, and she was instrumental in boosting my confidence.
When I went the audition, I did not really believe I would get the lead. But I played it up, I had a good time, and maybe that's what they saw in me. I kept being called up to perform...and to sing. I had to sing a song I didn't know, and I was terrified.
They called me with a strange offer...to play "Annie" for 2 weeks until their Chosen finished with her finals at college. I was 15 going on 16, and I was in love...so I accepted the offer. And for that 2 weeks, I lived a dream. And I learned that I could sing, but had a long way to go to be "good".
It was OK, though. I was not jealous. I was disappointed, but that 2 weeks was a gift on a silver platter, and I was happy to have it. I look back now and realize that although I was enthusiastic, and passionate, and motivated...I was humble. I did not expect more, and in fact, believe I got more than I deserved. I was so grateful for the opportunity. I wish I had retained that trait.
When I was 20, I spent a semester in Mexico. By then, I knew I had a decent singing voice, although many of my closest friends had no idea. I was into my gung-ho feminist attitudes then, had moved away from the idea of a career, or even a hobby in theatre (although my heart told me different), and it was a secret longing...to sing on stage.
Well, in Puerto Escondido, one evening, I remember standing at the bar with my friends. When we walked in the band was performing the Eagles' "Hotel California". I knew the song well and had this melancholy feeling...I wanted to perform.
I said to my friends, "I want to sing!"
I didn't know the bar manager was standing behind me. Suddenly he grabbed my arm, led me up to the band and ordered me to sing!
I was flabbergasted. While I DID want to perform, I had no desire to make a donkey's rear out of myself in doing so. I was a part of a small group of Americans and I was stuck with them for at least another 40 days until we got home...and then, until graduation.
So I spoke to the band, and we came to an agreement...when I heard them start a song I knew, I would come up and sing. They had never heard me, only took it on good faith that I could carry a tune.
I was terrified. What had I done?
Then they began to play "Stand By Me".
I rushed up and they actuallly handed me the main mike. I took the mike in my shaking hand and sang, "When the night..has come..."
Then came the second verse. I was a flautist also at the time and I had a finely attuned ear. I KNEW when to stop, I could hear dischord and it rattled me if I heard it. I KNEW I was off-key somehow, but something told me to keep going. Trusting that instinct, I continued on and let it flow.
Let me just say that this band played everything with a blues rhythm, a blues style, and when I sang that second verse, I had apparently caught their "soul". I was the predominant singer..but I was singing harmony, not the melody. And somehow, I had begun doing this naturally. The band's lead singer joined, and I think he sang an random melody...hard to explain. But somehow, it WORKED!
I remember looking out at my friends, and they stared at me in astonishment as these notes came out of my mouth. I smiled and sang at them, thinking that there was NO WAY this could POSSIBLY be me.
It was incredible, it was amazing, and I KNEW I could not have done this if I tried.
I sang one other song with this band that night, "La Bamba" (define "irony"...a 20 year old American woman singing "La Bamba" in Spanish, in a tiny coastal town in Mexico).
I don't need "American Idol".
I'm not a great singer. My friends were amazed at the time of my little performance, and perhaps the gift I displayed deserved their astonishment...I was surprised too, after all.
But I'm not an "Idol". I'll never sing like Alicia Keys...but I know that with my voice, I can glorify God...and that's MORE than enough.
Don't be so shocked. Even wannabe devout Catholics can sing!
And so can you. Catholics have this reputation for being horrible singers, and maybe this is in part to some very bad choral directors in various parishes (although, as I understand it, Protestant churches suffer from bad songleaders also).
So open your mouth, and at least TRY...that's all the Lord asks of you. Don't think about how you sound...just offer your voice to God and let Him do the work.
You'll be amazed when he takes over, whether in singing or any other venue...when God takes the reins, you KNOW it...just don't forget to give him the credit.
God bless, and good night!
Monday, January 16, 2006
Chewbacca Defense
Fans of South Park will recognize this term, used to identify a straw-man argument used in times of no defense. It is an argument which brings in useless information when the person making the defense has nothing to say in response.
I got to see this in practice today.
Let me set the scene for you:
Today I had to go to a binding arbitration as both a representative of my company AND as a witness, and testify as same. As I've never done this before, and, although I have been "trained" in court testimony, I was very nervous.
Arbitration differs from actual court litigation in several ways: there is a mediator who servs as judge and jury. It is held in a conference room, and while all witnesses are sworn, there is no court reporter.
Today the room was populated by 5 of us: clients of each side and the mediator/arbitrator on the end. The other end of the table was reserved for the various witnesses who would be called but did not have a right to remain throughout the proceedings.
I felt a little more nervous as a representative of my company...glad I could be there throughout, but a little terrified I would mess everything up. I tend to be too analytical and pull the rug out from under myself. And in this case, the rug was not just beneath my feet, but beneath my company. I was testifying for them.
My testimony went OK, but I forgot one of the answers to the prepared questions for our side...happily I was able to refer to transcribed statements for the answers, but it ended up not mattering, anyway. Upon cross-examination, which is kind of a wild card, I ended up being prepared. I ended up answering questions that actually weren't asked because I "read into" the opposing attorneys questions and in doing so, apparently appropriately established the scope of my knowledge and the introduction of a forensic expert. I was careful to state what I knew, phrase "my understanding of the forensic report is X"...etc. When I was asked a question I could not answer, I simply informed the other attorney that I was not trained for X assessment and directed him to ask his questions of the appropriate witness.
When I was done, I was sure I had just shot us in the foot.
Turned out to be OK.
WHEW! Thank you St. John Chrysostom! (Did I spell that right?)
I knew I was either off the hook or had completely blown our case when the other attorney said, "I have no more questions." as he took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. During my testimony, while being questioned by my attorney, the other attorney and his client nearly caused the arbitor to call a recess...I was sure I had really put a cog in our wheels.
In the end, both attorneys gave their closing arguments. The attorney for my company focused on the facts, summarizing them nicely. The defense...whoa...the defense!
It was weird. I actually found myself in a somewhat detached place. I could simply observe, take notes as needed as the arbitor had indicated he would allow rebuttal, and let my mind take it in. I found myself in an analytical place I am rarely able to freely reside...usually I need to be taking notes, checking a recorder...something.
But this time..I sat back and watched. This was for my own (company's) attorney to argue, and I was simply a client. I watched this attorney, a private practice defense attorney, wind up to make his pitch.
I considered his demeanor...he was kind of grandfatherly. I had noticed all along his ability to provide comfort to his witnesses--he had a very genial and accomodating manner, groomed, no doubt, throughout the years in his field. Yet he was direct, but not without a sense of the dramatic.
Personally, outside of testimony, I found him to be very likeable. Under his microscope of legal finesse, I found his bark stronger than his bite...or were his teeth razorblades?
So I observed this closing argument with much interest, and I'll admit...a bit of a cringe. At what point would my own testimony be shredded?
He wound up...and wound up...and attacked my industry in general (duly excluding "current company"), presented a summary of the character of his client, presented other illogical information, and then stated, "THIS does NOT make SENSE!"
After about the third time he stated "THIS does NOT make SENSE" while presenting information with NOTHING to do with the case at hand, I nearly burst out laughing at his "Chewbacca Defense".
I was actually taking notes here and there, and while I was tempted to write down "Chewbacca Defense", I did not for fear my attorney would see my note and lose his own focus.
So I simply sat with my hands in front of my face, struggling to maintain a poker face while I observed this emotional plea.
It was all emotion...no fact. He was so busy defending something we had never called into question!
And I considered, "Do juries really fall for this?" And an even bigger question, "Will the arbitor fall for this? An experienced, logical, arbitor?"
I honestly expected Chewbacca to appear on a screen with the explanation that if we believe that Chewbacca lives on Endor, the arbitor must find for his client.
I could not wait for them to leave. The second the outer office door closed, I turned to my attorney and told him, "That was just a straw man! It was the Chewbacca Defense!"
He recognized the term, and agreed...and told me that this attorney is wildly successful in court.
So! Those of your going into court...be prepared for the "Chewbacca Defense". Those of you on juries...don't fall for this. And if you see it, recognize it for what it is...an impassioned plea upon your emotions because those who use it GOT NOTHIN' ELSE!
I hope the arbitor didn't fall for it...we'll learn the outcome this week.
I went to adoration en route home from this event to thank Jesus for helping me testify. I tend to be much better on paper than in speaking, especially when in a defensive postion.
I nearly lost my job little less than a year ago because I was struggling in presenting evidence in conference calls with majore head honchos. I HAD the evidence...I just couldn't present it. So today, I was terrified going in, but elated coming home.
The Lord is good. That's not to say that everything I think I know in this case was correct, but I can say with a clear conscience that I worked this case and presented it with integrity...and as this is an important duty of my job, I now feel vindicated. God has brought me through this fear, and my reward...was seeing the Chewbacca Defense.
Whether the mediator returns with a verdict on our side or the other doesn't matter..the fact that this "Defense" was used tells me that my work and my testimony were solid...that the attorney for our side did a great job!
Maybe I should get back to regular programming now....Praise God!
I got to see this in practice today.
Let me set the scene for you:
Today I had to go to a binding arbitration as both a representative of my company AND as a witness, and testify as same. As I've never done this before, and, although I have been "trained" in court testimony, I was very nervous.
Arbitration differs from actual court litigation in several ways: there is a mediator who servs as judge and jury. It is held in a conference room, and while all witnesses are sworn, there is no court reporter.
Today the room was populated by 5 of us: clients of each side and the mediator/arbitrator on the end. The other end of the table was reserved for the various witnesses who would be called but did not have a right to remain throughout the proceedings.
I felt a little more nervous as a representative of my company...glad I could be there throughout, but a little terrified I would mess everything up. I tend to be too analytical and pull the rug out from under myself. And in this case, the rug was not just beneath my feet, but beneath my company. I was testifying for them.
My testimony went OK, but I forgot one of the answers to the prepared questions for our side...happily I was able to refer to transcribed statements for the answers, but it ended up not mattering, anyway. Upon cross-examination, which is kind of a wild card, I ended up being prepared. I ended up answering questions that actually weren't asked because I "read into" the opposing attorneys questions and in doing so, apparently appropriately established the scope of my knowledge and the introduction of a forensic expert. I was careful to state what I knew, phrase "my understanding of the forensic report is X"...etc. When I was asked a question I could not answer, I simply informed the other attorney that I was not trained for X assessment and directed him to ask his questions of the appropriate witness.
When I was done, I was sure I had just shot us in the foot.
Turned out to be OK.
WHEW! Thank you St. John Chrysostom! (Did I spell that right?)
I knew I was either off the hook or had completely blown our case when the other attorney said, "I have no more questions." as he took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. During my testimony, while being questioned by my attorney, the other attorney and his client nearly caused the arbitor to call a recess...I was sure I had really put a cog in our wheels.
In the end, both attorneys gave their closing arguments. The attorney for my company focused on the facts, summarizing them nicely. The defense...whoa...the defense!
It was weird. I actually found myself in a somewhat detached place. I could simply observe, take notes as needed as the arbitor had indicated he would allow rebuttal, and let my mind take it in. I found myself in an analytical place I am rarely able to freely reside...usually I need to be taking notes, checking a recorder...something.
But this time..I sat back and watched. This was for my own (company's) attorney to argue, and I was simply a client. I watched this attorney, a private practice defense attorney, wind up to make his pitch.
I considered his demeanor...he was kind of grandfatherly. I had noticed all along his ability to provide comfort to his witnesses--he had a very genial and accomodating manner, groomed, no doubt, throughout the years in his field. Yet he was direct, but not without a sense of the dramatic.
Personally, outside of testimony, I found him to be very likeable. Under his microscope of legal finesse, I found his bark stronger than his bite...or were his teeth razorblades?
So I observed this closing argument with much interest, and I'll admit...a bit of a cringe. At what point would my own testimony be shredded?
He wound up...and wound up...and attacked my industry in general (duly excluding "current company"), presented a summary of the character of his client, presented other illogical information, and then stated, "THIS does NOT make SENSE!"
After about the third time he stated "THIS does NOT make SENSE" while presenting information with NOTHING to do with the case at hand, I nearly burst out laughing at his "Chewbacca Defense".
I was actually taking notes here and there, and while I was tempted to write down "Chewbacca Defense", I did not for fear my attorney would see my note and lose his own focus.
So I simply sat with my hands in front of my face, struggling to maintain a poker face while I observed this emotional plea.
It was all emotion...no fact. He was so busy defending something we had never called into question!
And I considered, "Do juries really fall for this?" And an even bigger question, "Will the arbitor fall for this? An experienced, logical, arbitor?"
I honestly expected Chewbacca to appear on a screen with the explanation that if we believe that Chewbacca lives on Endor, the arbitor must find for his client.
I could not wait for them to leave. The second the outer office door closed, I turned to my attorney and told him, "That was just a straw man! It was the Chewbacca Defense!"
He recognized the term, and agreed...and told me that this attorney is wildly successful in court.
So! Those of your going into court...be prepared for the "Chewbacca Defense". Those of you on juries...don't fall for this. And if you see it, recognize it for what it is...an impassioned plea upon your emotions because those who use it GOT NOTHIN' ELSE!
I hope the arbitor didn't fall for it...we'll learn the outcome this week.
I went to adoration en route home from this event to thank Jesus for helping me testify. I tend to be much better on paper than in speaking, especially when in a defensive postion.
I nearly lost my job little less than a year ago because I was struggling in presenting evidence in conference calls with majore head honchos. I HAD the evidence...I just couldn't present it. So today, I was terrified going in, but elated coming home.
The Lord is good. That's not to say that everything I think I know in this case was correct, but I can say with a clear conscience that I worked this case and presented it with integrity...and as this is an important duty of my job, I now feel vindicated. God has brought me through this fear, and my reward...was seeing the Chewbacca Defense.
Whether the mediator returns with a verdict on our side or the other doesn't matter..the fact that this "Defense" was used tells me that my work and my testimony were solid...that the attorney for our side did a great job!
Maybe I should get back to regular programming now....Praise God!
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Chronicles of Narnia
I finally got to see this movie last weekend and it was all I hoped it would be. They really did a tremendous job in bringing this timeless tale to the big screen. And the soundtrack! Fantastic! I bought that this weekend and listened to it today while I did some light reading. And fell asleep imagining the epic battle portrayed in the movie.
When I was a child I read these books after watching the animated story for a class in elementary school. I remember being engrossed, turning page after page, entering this wonderful world of Narnia. For awhile, I nearly believed that I could enter Nardia through my own closet...and checked the status of my own door daily, always to be disappointed.
Now that I've seen the movie, I've actually had to fend off the desire to enter my walk-in closet and check the back wall. Quite honestly, if I ever find a way through the back wall, I'd be liable to fall down my stairwar rather than into Narnia. It amazes me how this story has the ability to reignite my imagination and propensity for belief in the unseen.
Today I came across a collection of movies put out by the BBC. I actually picked them up, having never known that they made movies of The Dawn Treader and The Silver Chair so I look forward to seeing what was done in the past.
What I can tell you is that the rendition of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is quite substandard..the talking animals are people dressed up like the animals they portray. I guess this is why CS Lewis never wanted the books made into movies!
For those who have not seen the current version of "Narnia", I do highly recommend it.
When I was a child I read these books after watching the animated story for a class in elementary school. I remember being engrossed, turning page after page, entering this wonderful world of Narnia. For awhile, I nearly believed that I could enter Nardia through my own closet...and checked the status of my own door daily, always to be disappointed.
Now that I've seen the movie, I've actually had to fend off the desire to enter my walk-in closet and check the back wall. Quite honestly, if I ever find a way through the back wall, I'd be liable to fall down my stairwar rather than into Narnia. It amazes me how this story has the ability to reignite my imagination and propensity for belief in the unseen.
Today I came across a collection of movies put out by the BBC. I actually picked them up, having never known that they made movies of The Dawn Treader and The Silver Chair so I look forward to seeing what was done in the past.
What I can tell you is that the rendition of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is quite substandard..the talking animals are people dressed up like the animals they portray. I guess this is why CS Lewis never wanted the books made into movies!
For those who have not seen the current version of "Narnia", I do highly recommend it.
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