Anticipation

I'm so glad my wife reminded me that my skydiving Groupon would be expiring soon. Last year I was a little frustrated that I couldn't find a weekend in which my schedule and the weather would cooperate to allow me to redeem it, but figured I'd get plenty of opportunities this spring. Well, that hasn't exactly been the case, but the whole thing slipped from my consciousness, too. Based on my previous attempts to schedule, I'm of the impression that their schedule is completely packed on any potentially decent Saturday, so you have to schedule way in advance of knowing whether the weather will cooperate. It also tends to be pretty full on Sunday, though there's a better chance of getting in. But weekdays look way easier for availability, so today is the day!

I'm sure I'll grow increasingly nervous as we drive down, get the orientation, suit up, board the plane and approach the drop zone.  Just listing those steps along the way are bringing a grin to my face!

I'm also sure I'm going to be both exhilarated by the jump and disappointed when it's over. I've had it to look forward to for so long!

Today's words

ceorl \CHAY-orl\ - a freeman of the lowest rank in Anglo-Saxon England

wergild \WER-gild\ - the value set in Anglo-Saxon and Germanic law upon human life in accordance with rank and paid as compensation to the kindred or lord of a slain person

These both seem like the sort of thing I should have known already. The second was used in one of the examples for the first.

Geronimo!

A rough wake-up yesterday was no portent of the day.  It was a tiring one, but good.  Men's group was a great opportunity for me to regain my perspective. The move was accomplished about as efficiently as we could have managed, and I'm really glad we didn't have our daughter rent a truck even though we ended up with one more two-vehicle round trip than we'd have needed with one. The talk for our marriage encounter group - for which we'd only minimally prepared, but only so much preparation is really necessary when you're sharing from a book that was pretty much written for this purpose - spoke deeply to everyone there in an area in which it is too easy to allow inertia to stifle both awareness and growth. More on that later, I think.

I'm still a tired and sore old dog today, but feel pretty good about things.

And tomorrow I'm jumping out of an airplane!

SLAP!

There is nothing quite like waking up still in a really positive mood from a very nice evening and night - despite only having a few hours of sleep -  to an unintended reminder of my failure at my most important role.

I clearly still have work to do on forgiving myself for that.

Today's word

fuliginous \fyoo-LIJ-uh-nus\ - 1a. sooty  b. obscure, murky  2. having a dark or dusky color

Actually, from late March.  Not sure how I missed this one, but am glad they quizzed on it today.

Today's word

force majeure \forss-mah-ZHUR\ - 1. superior or irresistible force  2. an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled

English is such a mutt of a language.

Bicycle dream

I was riding my my bike along the path, in a group ride, I think.  We hit an area where the path was badly deteriorated. I managed my way along it slowly, working the pedals at a low cadence. The other riders were still there, but now became extremely peripheral; perhaps they passed it more quickly than I did and moved on ahead? I got past the damaged area, and cruised along for a short while before reaching a spot that was degraded to the point of really being unsafe to traverse on the bike.  The others were within sight, riding through it somehow.  As I started into this section of path, the loose pavement shifted under my tires and mired me down; I had to really work to maintain my balance and keep making progress. Then I started to get a cramp in my right foot.

A real cramp, which woke me from my dream at 5:00 a.m.

Same old day

Was waiting to see if things might look different in the morning light.

They don't.

Legacy

It feels like it's my failure, bequeathed to my loved ones in perpetuity.

An anagram

I am a beloved child and heir of the King of the universe, indwelt by God's very Spirit. I have no business feeling so much like this.

Maybe I'm just tired. I think I've been sleeping okay, though. It certainly isn't lack of exercise anymore.

Today's word

lamia \LAY-mee-uh\ - a female demon

Well, yesterday's, really.

Do the roots of it matter?

Sometimes I feel as if I have been too influenced by my stepfather's worldly attitude, that it has become too much a part of me. I don't mean the specifics of our shared dysfunction; I am in fact still utterly repulsed and disgusted by my ever having shared in that, and I can no longer even set my mind upon the thought processes that led me there anymore. For that I am grateful. But more generally, the narcissism and even the internal disdain for living wholly according to God's will - which made it possible for him to use me and everyone else he fancied for his own pleasure - feels like a part of my being, too. It isn't that I desire to use others as he did; I don't think I'm prone to that part of it. But it is more as if I am, at least a little, resentful that I am subject to anyone's guidance but my own, even one who loves me and wants what is best for me as I believe God does.

I can't help thinking, though, that this is not so much my stepfather's doing. It isn't as if I hadn't found myself fully able to do things I knew were wrong in all sorts of different arenas of my life prior to knowing him. I think it is maybe more a part of our basic sinfulness. This is the true fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil of which we have partaken in our pride. I am still jealous of people who don't seem as prone to my specific struggles, though, who seem to have hearts so much purer than I know mine to be - even those whom I respect and love so deeply for it, and so wish I could emulate even though their easy way of being free from it seems foreign to me and even though I witness their own struggles to humbly trust and walk with God. I must remember not to envy the very gifts for which I so admire them!

Bless the LORD, O my soul; and all that is within me, bless his holy name!
Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits,
who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases,
who redeems your life from the Pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,
who satisfies you with good as long as you live so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.
The LORD works vindication and justice for all who are oppressed.
He made known his ways to Moses, his acts to the people of Israel.
The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
He will not always chide, nor will he keep his anger for ever.
He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor requite us according to our iniquities.
For as the heavens are high above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us.
As a father pities his children, so the LORD pities those who fear him.
For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust.
As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field;
for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more.
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting upon those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children,
to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments.
The LORD has established his throne in the heavens, and his kingdom rules over all.
Bless the LORD, O you his angels, you mighty ones who do his word, hearkening to the voice of his word!
Bless the LORD, all his hosts, his ministers that do his will!
Bless the LORD, all his works, in all places of his dominion. Bless the LORD, O my soul!

Ps 102

My positronic pathways

Sometimes expressing my thoughts in this forum is enough.

At other times, it isn't.

And sometimes it's probably too much.

Stumble and catch

On the way back from lunch, I was listening to a converted atheist tell how his wife's conversion eventually won him over when, right in the middle of it, he threw out a line that just - for a moment, at least - sucked the life and hope right out of me. It was nothing, really, except an observation that before he accepted Christ, his wife's Christian friends were able to encourage her to at least stand on the common interpersonal ground on which they had built their relationship.

In my marriage, our common interpersonal ground was her loving me; my loving her, even rooted as it was in my desperate need to be loved; her desperately needing a future she couldn't build on her own. Frankly, I'm jealous of people who have built their marriages on a strong friendship full of common interests.

It didn't take long for me to remember that the common ground we now share is Jesus Christ. He has promised that his grace is sufficient. My life and hope are in him. And my bride is a treasure with whom he has gifted me greatly, even from such a dysfunctional beginning.

Today's word

demulcent \dih-MULL-sunt\ - soothing

Thoughts on today's gospel

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. - Jn 10, 27

This is how we can tell whether someone belongs to Christ, whether their faith experiences have brought them to legitimate conversion. If they follow where Jesus leads instead of the urging of the world, then we may trust that they are authentic.

Our associate pastor talked about how a follower of Christ ought to respond to the events in Boston, including the awareness that this sort of event is an everyday fear in some parts of the world. I suppose I should feel encouraged in not hearing anything that wasn't part of my approach already, but my heart is too heavy for the many victims and even the broken perpetrators to take such comfort.

Maybe I just haven't seen it yet, but someone should be commenting on the connection to the shootings at the Denver rally yesterday. Of course, on the surface they're completely unrelated. But to me, they seem to be driven by the same underlying cause: a complete unwillingness to accept that we cannot make people do what we think they should or what we want them to do. This drives the entire worldwide issue of terrorism and the vast array of attacks against innocents in the many forms that they are perpetrated.

Not very restful morning

As I lay awake in bed this morning, I found my thoughts full of the vast collage of painful memories of my childhood.

Ugh.

Sparing the reader the details, from awkward through tragic to gross.

The sound of silence?

Hmm. There might not be any more to say after that last post. It's kind of, "Put up or shut up."

Baptism in the Holy Spirit

I've started in on a booklet/document from International Catholic Charismatic Renewal Services titled Baptism in the Holy Spirit. So far, it seems to effectively bridge two purposes that I never thought could coexist in one text, covering the theological issues of my spirituality in a practical way. I'm looking forward to finishing it, and am considering buying several more copies to share with people outside the renewal.

That said, the "my" in that first paragraph is feeling a little presumptuous in light of what I've encountered in the first chapter, which outlines the hallmarks that seem common to people who have this experience of the Holy Spirit. It is this fruit which provides the practical evidence that the baptism in the Holy Spirit is an authentic movement of God's Spirit in people's lives. If this is true, it would serve all of us well to remain open to it, rather than judging it and casting it aside as a fringe movement of people deluding themselves or being misled, as so many of the renewal's skeptics have done. I've seen much of the evidence of the authentic movement of the Spirit which the document points out, yet a couple of those that I would consider both most important and most irrefutable seem to be absent from my own life. Granted, the book is careful to point out that usually some of these characteristics are instantaneous and others develop over the course of our life in the Spirit. Nor is there a set delineation of which traits will develop at what points in people's faith walk; different people experience different gifts and fruits of the Holy Spirit during different parts of their journey. My friend Herb and I were observing this just the other night at our prayer group, as he wondered at the insight that seems to come through me, while I lacked the courage to comment on the purity for which I so respect him.

Indeed, this points to what I consider the most important single piece of evidence of the Holy Spirit's work in any person's life. When the Spirit moves in us, we desire to please the Lord above all else. We hunger for the things that make us holy, sanctified and set apart for the Lord's purposes. And I? Over the 28 years since that rainy night in Biloxi when I presumably first felt the Spirit stir my own heart, when I first pleaded with God to change what I could not seem to fix on my own, at no time has there ever been any shortage of evidence that I remain far too full and fond of my own self-centeredness.

Falling short?

When Saint Maximilian Kolbe was a child, he had a vision of the Blessed Mother offering him his choice of two crowns: a white crown representing purity, and a red crown representing martyrdom. In his vision, he said that he would accept both. His beatification and canonization point to the fulfillment of this vision, as he is the only saint to be beatified as a Confessor of the faith (white) due to his death as an act of Christian charity, then to be canonized as a martyr who is considered to have been killed because of his faith.

When I look at the evidence of my own life, I doubt that I'll ever deserve either crown.

Living in Christ's love is important to me. Living a life of purity is a less motivating concept. Are the sins to which I remain prone perhaps too enchanting to me, or too much a part of my being to be carved out completely? But that would be like insinuating that my own challenges are greater than those of any other would-be saint. As for laying down my life, doing it in small ways is a continual challenge; God alone knows if I would do so in the ultimate form if I were ever put in that position.

Should I take comfort in the fact that I'm not impulsively blurting out that I'd lay down my life for you, Jesus? Is that a sign of humility, or merely vacillation?

Another unexpected flashback

How ironic that I should have this happen on the same day that I read about the concept of word aversion:

It's amazing the innocuous things that can remind me of him, that in a moment can transport me from being a (let's face facts) late-middle-aged adult on his way to another mundane day at work to the confused, bewildered, over-his-head abuse victim trying to find his way through the jungle of inappropriate relationships into which his mother's boyfriend has immersed him.

Today is World Hemophilia Day.

It wasn't enough for my eventual stepfather to have sex with everyone he could, including me, in the name of novelty - which is, after all, what often drives those with no control in that area of their lives. No, he had to share what he considered his more interesting experiences, too, even with the son of the woman I am convinced he loved as well as he was able. On one occasion, a woman he'd picked up in a bar was apparently warning him in the midst of the act that he needed to be careful because of her bleeding disorder.

But since "hemophiliac" is a five-syllable word, he found it hilarious (after the fact) that he thought she was referring to different five-syllable word which might have described her sexual preference. He apparently responded that he didn't care who else she went to bed with.

For some reason he thought this was an appropriate anecdote to share with me. On multiple occasions. Mocking the sound of her voice as she tried to express her concern to him. Cackling each time over how hilarious it was, underscoring that with an observation concerning his own lack of endowment.

What was a previously-sheltered teenaged boy - who loves and respects his mom whose boyfriend is having sex with him and boasting about his other exploits - supposed to do with all of that?

My sharing of this memory is not intended to make light of the issues that those who suffer from bleeding disorders must deal with. I always felt like this unknown stranger deserved way better than she got, both in the encounter and in the storytelling.

Today's word

surd \SERD\ - 1. lacking sense : irrational  2. voiceless — used of speech sounds

I think don't quite think it's absurd that I'd never heard of this word, but I am surprised by it.

The importance of praise

It occurred to me last night, on the way home from prayer group, that praising God is the single most important thing I do - the most important gift God gives me - for keeping my life on track. Without it, I don't like the person I tend to be, in any pretty much any aspect of my life.

Not according to plan

I had high hopes for dinner last night, when my bride was working on it in the morning. The leftover chicken from Sunday was going to become a pot pie. When I called home at 5 I asked if it was in the oven yet, and when I sounded concerned that it wasn't, she indicated the recipe only called for it to bake for 20 minutes. Alarm bells reverberating around the inside of my skull, I mentioned that was probably not from the "cold in the refrigerator" state, and she assured me she'd had it out of the fridge for quite some time.

So I didn't panic when I walked in the door at 5:30 and she was just starting on the biscuit topping, even though she was planning to leave for Confirmation rehearsal at 6:15 and I needed to be early to my prayer meeting in case anyone else came for the rosary. She put it in the oven at 5:40, and when took it out 20 minutes later with the biscuit top looking lightly browned. After letting it rest for 5 minutes, she went to spoon out her meal so she could eat and then leave.

Only to find the biscuit topping completely raw below the surface.

After an additional half hour of cooking, checking it at 5 minute intervals, the crust was thoroughly browned on top, clearly trending toward burned if it were to cook any longer, and now only slightly still raw underneath. By then she was long gone, and I needed to leave, too. Lesson learned: having the filling still hot from cooking is important when making a biscuit-topped pot pie. I suppose if we'd reduced the oven temp by 15 degrees and cooked it for an hour we might have managed to eat dinner last night. If we ever try to make up a pot pie in advance, we'll be sure to use a recipe that provides for that option.

Let's hope tonight's lasagna goes better.

Dear Columnist:

I read a letter in an advice column yesterday, which I could relate to the feelings of, that nonetheless scares me for how it illustrates our society's prevailing narcissistic attitude. Were I to embrace this perspective, I could perhaps find myself in the position of writing a similar letter. Thankfully, I don't and I'm not. It's a foregone conclusion that the letter writer has chosen to pursue a same-sex relationship with a friend over fidelity to her marriage of over a decade. The only question she has is whether it's more honorable to do that in silence - offering her husband the illusion that their marriage is something that it isn't - or to tell her husband about it. But any other option - such as just choosing to be faithful and not act on her desires - is apparently beyond considering.

I may have reflected before that I think that the most important part of the marriage vow is left unspoken. For richer, for poorer; right. In sickness and in health; check. Forsaking all others - well, at least until my unique circumstances make fidelity an unreasonable burden, but that's not what I mean that we omit. Sometimes you'll hear a wedding homilist talk about the importance of remaining committed even if our partner changes, or doesn't change, in significant ways. But I've never heard anyone address the circumstance that drives so many marriages apart: "no matter what I might discover about myself along the way."

If I learn that my interests are very different from my wife's, I must remain all the more committed to her, seeking out the common ground that keeps us growing together. If I learn that my flaws are glaring, even to the point of endangering people I love, I must be so committed to her that I am willing to see that truth about myself and do whatever hard work it takes to address those problem areas.

And if I learn that I have attractions that I didn't recognize at the outset of adulthood - whatever the gender of the attractee might be - I must be committed enough to her to lay down that part of my life in fidelity to my bride.

Acknowledge it, yes; denial is it's own trap. But lay it down. After all, that's what we're supposed to do with all the other temptations to cheat that we encounter, right? And even in circumstances like this, I personally think that's a better answer than society's, which wraps up the indulgence of our curiosity and desire in the fancy paper of "being true to yourself."

My mind keeps coming back . . .

. . . to Michael W. Smith's Agnus Dei. As it does, I keep being tempted to scold myself a little for not having a more practical or somehow more appropriate response to yesterday's events in Boston. Then I realize that this is precisely the first response I am supposed to have, and that all other responses must flow from it. Yes, I must lament with those who have lost loved ones, who have been brutally wounded. God certainly does. But the terrible statement that yesterday's bombing makes is against us, not against God. Nothing diminishes God.

O God, come to our assistance! Lord, make haste to help us!!

Boston thought

Days like yesterday are a struggle. How can we choose such evil? What sort of machinations take our minds to such places?

Then I look at the testimony of my own life.

These two pieces of evidence together make me realize what a great gift our free will is. (Assuming, of course, that what we believe about God is true:) Knowing how we would choose to hurt one another with it, to put our own self-serving, or controlling, or evil desires above the good of all, or how we would so gravely misunderstand, misinterpret and misapply the concept of "for the greater good" that we would use it to justify pure evil or, in my case, exercise it in ways such that we convince ourselves that we are not in control of our own choices, God yet bestowed on us the intelligence and the will that are our defining traits. What tremendous love God must have for us, and how terribly we abuse it.

God, please comfort the mourning, heal the wounded, draw all those who are hurting and confused into your love, and both bring the perpetrators to justice and draw them into your grace.

I am an adopted son . . .

. . . of the King of the Universe.

This should be the most important reality of my life, into which all other circumstances fit, even if I can't always see how.

Heavenly worship

Alleluia! For the Lord God Almighty reigns!
You are holy!  Holy are you, Lord God Almighty!  Worthy is the lamb!!
- Agnus Dei, Michael W. Smith

We sang this wonderful worship song as a prelude yesterday, with lyrics drawn from the first reading from the Revelation to John.  Its reverberations in my mind have been most welcome!

Praying for those who hurt those you love

(or: It's a good thing I don't own a firearm.)

My daughter's roommate has been freeloading off of her for at least the past 4 months, so after warning him that this was coming, this month she told him she was only paying her own half of the rent. Yesterday he apparently tells her - halfway through the month - that in lieu of paying his half he is moving out, and she has to be out by Tuesday or they'll start eviction proceedings on her.  

She's been looking for somewhere else to live, but hasn't found a place yet. I think she'll have money tomorrow to pay the rest of the month's rent, if they'll let her. If she's able to go that route, she needs to make sure that the roommate moves out anyway.  If they won't take her money for the remainder of the month (which I can't imagine), she has been assuming she couldn't move back in here, but she could on a short-term basis.

I just don't want her to ever share an apartment with someone again; that has never worked out except for when she was married.

More strange dreams

First I had a series of dreams last night about young children and a family with incredible psychic powers to destroy. Especially in the case of the dreams involving the children, it was a matter of someone with similar power having done incredible but unspecified hurt to them that turned them into psychopathic destroyers themselves. For the family, there ultimately turned out to be a similar back story. I am tending to view these dreams in a very different light when writing about them than I did when waking from each of them in the middle of the night.

My final dream was about planes and automobiles (no trains, though, nor Steve Martin or John Candy). First I met Teri in a parking garage halfway between the airport and home (this was in MD) as she returned from a trip. Then I was on my way out of town at an airport, and was approaching security when I saw that I didn't have my driver's license in my wallet. When I called Teri she had it in hand already and agreed to meet me with it in the same parking garage, after which I rushed back to the airport parking garage, parked beneath a conveyor or ramp that was going to be a shortcut for getting my bag to my car when I got home, then proceeded into the airport and was going back toward security when I woke up.

A better perspective

I am finding very helpful this concept of rejecting the tendency to label myself, and thereby rejecting the expectation that I should behave in a certain way. I encountered the idea in an article by a Catholic man who tends toward same-sex attraction but is determined to live his life - including but not limited to his sexuality - as Christ is calling him through the Church to live.

The thing is, the applicability of this way of thinking goes way beyond our sexuality. Whatever we struggle with, we are a whole person, not just that struggle. Refusing to isolate that part of ourselves allows us to deal with that struggle in the proper context; being willing to accept that as part of ourselves that we need to work on helps keep us from just blowing it off.

Picking up

The semi-disappointing end to our wonderful last night was probably unavoidable, given how very tired I was and that you had a chore to take care of before coming to bed.  It was very nice to be able to pick up this morning maintaining the sense of closeness that we nurtured together in the evening.

Friday:

ahhh.

Much better.

As a healthy person . . .

. . . it never gets any easier to hear people talk about the hurt caused by the kind of thing I did when I was not a healthy person.

stuff from my week

Sometimes the hole in my heart feels as big as God. Then I wonder, if I truly have God living in my heart as I have believed and professed, how could I have any remaining hole in my heart at all?

I get amazed at the things that knock me for a loop. Okay, I've decided that it's time to study my instrument, so I go onto the website of the premier studio in the area for classical guitar study. Then I realize I'm going to have to specify some things, particularly that I'm going to have to find a way to stay out of their classical ensemble class, which appears to be full of kids. *sigh*

I really needed another opportunity each year to lament. Thank you, "national siblings day." Seriously, though: I don't think of Karen nearly as often as I wish I did, so I really am grateful for the reminder.

Day by day:

• Sunday: the crockpot chicken and pineapple experiment fails. chicken gets way overdone and dried out. i'm awake every two hours during the night, each time for longer than i need to be because of the repeated impression i have that it's almost morning.
• Monday: dinner: fend for ourselves - i make due with some cereal; i finish and hand-write confirmation letter for friend's niece, then work on e-mail requesting info for m&b prayer couple letter; tv on, i go to bed.
• Tuesday: i do a short ride; dinner: sloppy joes made the way my wife grew up with them and never remembers that i've never really liked much, made by mixing a can of (full-salt) condensed vegetable soup into a lb of ground beef, served on enriched white sandwich buns - gotta love a meal i don't like that's also not at all good for me, but at least i'm not going hungry; after prayer group i buy lunch meat since there hasn't been anything in the house for lunch, either; i watch one of wife's shows with her, then have two ME e-mails to write, then we go to bed mad because she wanted me to do them the moment she mentioned it, maybe she had an agenda for after? i sleep lousy mostly because of legs after ride.
• Wednesday: dinner: fend for myself as wife babysits and taxis grandkids - flounder fillets on flatbread wrap form the best meal of the week; i write m&b letter, read book while baseball on tv. turn tv off to focus on reading before wife gets home, turn back on to check o's score while she watches tslotat in her room before we both go to bed tired.
• Thursday: if there's one thing better than Tuesday's dinner it's having it again as leftovers; wife goes to look at potential apartment with daughter, comes home and announces in front of daughter and without consulting me about it that if daughter takes this apartment and has surgery on her ankle that she'll be staying with us extendedly because she won't be able to handle the entrance steps to the over-garage apartment. wife suggests that o's might be on, and she's right; she watches with me until she gets bored, then takes a late phone call from the west coast. i invite wife to join me in going out for dinner on Friday, as i am determined to enjoy one meal this week.

Pope Francis is right: when we complain too much, we lose sight of Jesus. Completely. (he's completely right. and we completely lost sight.)  So my immersion in Kolbe and the Kommandant is to remind me what I'm supposed to be about and the danger of not being about him.

Today's word

nepenthe \nuh-PENTH-ee\ - 1. a potion used by the ancients to induce forgetfulness of pain or sorrow  2. something capable of causing oblivion of grief or suffering

Finally! A new word. (I was beginning to think that I'd learned them all.)

Words fail

If there's one thing worse than the horrendous but fictitious CSI from last night that I watched, it's reading about the utter horrors - really, there should be an entire language dedicated to describing the atrocities - of Auschwitz.

A saint's testimony

I'm reading Kolbe and the Kommandant, a biographical contrast of sorts between St. Maximilian Maria Kolbe, who was martyred at Auschwitz, and Rudolph Hoess, commandant of Auschwitz.

The Kolbe sections of the book are full of his writings, which reflect an incredible level of trust in the Immaculata's desire to intercede that the glory of her divine Son might be revealed. It is a little disconcerting in how closely he seems to border on Maryolatry. Yet the evidence of this saint's life cannot be denied. Time and again his single-minded desire to do his Mother's will in his life, to the glory of God, resulted in the obliteration of obstacles and incredible growth in the distribution of his monthly periodical, The Knight of the Immaculata, in different languages.

Would that I could be so focused and trusting.

I'm looking forward to reading the remainder of this book. Of course Hoess' story is a tragedy of how abandoning the faith can lead us to the depths of inhumanity.  The sections on him thus far have dealt with his abandonment of his father's desire that he become a missionary, his early enlistment, his (mostly political?) imprisonment, and have just begun to deal with his enrollment and indoctrination into Hitler's SS despite his earlier dismay at the toppling of the basic human rights of expression, private ownership, the privacy of communications, etc.  His nationalism apparently led him to conclude that Hitler's aims excused the infamous Fire Decree. But I understand that his atrocities may not be the end of his story.

Lesson to remember

Sometimes, as I'm dealing with things past, I forget to acknowledge the presence - then and now - of the One who truly helps me deal with them rather than just remember them.

(links are just a couple of examples with no particular relevance at the moment, although the first has been edited since its initial publication yesterday.)

Confused internal response (edited)

Just read about a youth pastor in Severn - the town where I went to high school - who has been charged with getting a couple of his charges high on pot.

I have no business feeling at all nostalgic for that substance, especially in this context which is fraught with potential overtones. Yet the echoes of its effects in me continue to reverberate even decades after I last partook of it. Here are some things I can think of rather than entertain any positive thoughts about this drug:

• The fog I lived in for most of two years, and how it sapped me of ambition for anything but itself. 
• The almost complete loss of my academic career.
• The events of New York and beyond that took place in that fog, and the person who used its effects to take advantage of me. 
• That encounter with a complete stranger on the columned porch of St. Joseph's Church in Greenwich Village, on a subsequent trip back to the city.  He thought I was there for the same reason he was, assuming that he'd found a willing partner, just because I was in Washington Square Park and open to partaking of an illegal substance supplied gratis by a complete stranger. (I can understand his conclusion.) He told me where he lived and made it clear that I was welcome to join him there but also that, if I did, he would expect me to "play." At least I was never so far gone in my prediliction for cannabis that I gave any consideration to his offer.

If I'm going to travel down memory lane, let's highlight the memories that aren't so fond, and the let's also remember that there are some events from that time in my life that are just lost in that thick haze.

Let me also give each of these memories to the One who was with me in the midst of it all, who shared in the hurts I received and the ones I inflicted upon myself along the way, so that he may heal them and restore peace to my soul.

Keeping my damned mouth shut

My wife has asked me to please not correct her posts. I suspect that such comments from anyone else would be better received than from me, and I completely get that. She hasn't really noticed how well I've honored her request - just last week I was accused of correcting her posts "all the time," when the online evidence says otherwise of late - but that isn't the point.

When this online compliment for one neighbor is certain to be interpreted as an insult to another, the latter of whom is definitely going to see it, I'm going to just honor her request and stay out of her thread:

"Ugh couldn't get out the door to save my life. Well out the door but just not leaving. But conversations with good neighbors are rare."

Now, if I were a neighbor who talks with my wife all the time, and am FB friends with her, how would I be likely to interpret that last sentence?

Also: what will I say if this blows up and I'm asked my opinion? I imagine that might be in the form of "I don't know what's wrong with . . . " Well, that will be a delicate challenge; I sure hope I'm misreading these tea leaves.

Discouragement

Last night, just after I finished my post about my letter to the young confirmand I was asked to encourage, I received a message from a parishioner who has been asking - practically pleading - to learn how to praise and worship God. He backed out of tonight's prayer group, mostly out of a sense of embarrassment over what he perceives to be his lack of spiritual . . . I don't know, savvy?

I responded with more encouragement and let him know that he's pretty severely mistaken if he perceives that "spiritual people" "have it together" compared to him.

Encouragement

Just finished a letter of encouragement for a young confirmand, a niece of our parishioner and friend Diane. I'm not sure that Aunt Diane knew what she was in for when she asked me to do this!  I hope it encourages her niece, though.

How he will "lead us not," if we let him

Decades ago, I became too close to a female friend, who knew it well. I made the mistake of rebuffing her concern that I was exercising unsound judgment by practically boasting that I had been very careful in choosing our friendship, and that I was completely confident that I didn't have to worry about her ever crossing a line that I wouldn't choose to cross on my own. I was sure she wasn't attracted to me, I knew I wouldn't make a first move, and I was certain she wouldn't either.

I was mistaken. She took my misplaced confidence as a challenge, and shattered it. Our actions never went as far as they could have, due to the confluence of her limited agenda and very a disturbing event in my life that caused me to reevaluate my priorities. Following the funeral, I was dealing with so much emotionally that I just wasn't interested in picking up where we'd left off, and she soon moved on to her next challenge. Several years later we visited her family in their new home, and I swear she was trying to pick things back up again. I wasn't at all interested and deftly avoided the one potential situation in which she might have expressed such an interest. Another decade thereafter she deeply humiliated two of my younger family members; had I still been enchanted by her, I hope that event would have been eye-opening, but I've demonstrated an ability to be an obtuse judge when it suits my emotional agenda. Still, by then I had a much healthier perspective on most of my life.

But that original flirtation was the last time I let my feelings run wild to the point that I turned over my own decision-making responsibility (which, of course, we never really let go of) to another person. What I mean is, I have embraced the importance of setting appropriate boundaries for my life; I have learned that I can never rely on someone else to do it for me, or use their decisions as a substitute or excuse for my own.

Lead us not

Sometimes its only purpose is to help me live with the balance of, well, the rest of my life. But I know that isn't a good reason, and I'm glad I'm choosing otherwise.

Today's word

gest \JEST\ - 1. a tale of adventures; especially : a romance in verse  2. adventure, exploit

Nope, didn't know this one.

Missing the little ones

In the spirit of Pope Francis' message on complaining: Lord, thank you for the gift of our family, especially for our dear grandchildren. Bless them in abundance and teach them of your deep love and boundless mercy.

The gift of thanksgiving, in practice

Lord, my God, I thank you for being my risen Savior, and for raising me to new life in you! I thank you for revealing the full richness of love that is willing to bear everything for the beloved, for giving yourself to me totally, even though I would (and still do) sin and doubt and fail to live fully in your love.

I thank you too for the bride through whom you have blessed me with so much love. I am too easily caught up in ways that I wish our relationship were different, and lose sight of how wonderful our relationship is. As great a blessing as it has been to have someone in my life who has loved me through my worst moments, for too long I confused that gift with a debt I owed her; therefore I thank you, too, for setting me free from that entrapped thinking, to instead appreciate her love as a revelation of who she is. It is wonderful to share my life with her, and sometimes I lose sight of that for lamenting the ways that I wish we could share our life together. Yet she is a gift, a treasure, Lord, a blessing to me beyond measure.

So I ask you to bless my bride this day. Help her to know your love, and use mine to reveal yours to her. Bless her with a husband who loves and appreciates her more each day. Bless us with growth, both individually and together as a couple whose love for each other reflects your own brightly to those around us. Mostly, just help her know what a priceless treasure she is, Lord!

Open circuit

The root of the problem will always be our lack of common interests. There is nothing that will ever change that. There are parts of each other in which we are never going to want to share. All our lives we are going to have to work to overcome that issue.

What's weird about us compared to most couples - I think - is that, when we don't, it's me and not you that feels . . .

hell, I don't even feel like looking at what I feel right now.

The thing is, I love you, and I'm just going to keep on doing that as well as I can. And that means I'm going to point out to you, like last night, the times you don't notice that we're starting to drift apart, before I start feeling like I'm alone in the boat.

Bedtime exchange

Me: You know, we've spent the whole week mostly separately.
You:  Really? I hadn't noticed.

why

 am i so needy?

(if you're reading this post, it probably has nothing to do with you.)

together. apart.

i knew you couldn't see my tears in the darkness
as we shared in expressing our committed love
and when you playfully asked of me how i was
too lonely, too distant to share my truth with you
i hid myself from you again as i shouldn't
surreptitiously wiped the moisture from my eyes
steadfastly set my effort on satisfying
the hunger you'd made so clear that you were feeling
i think that you desired mainly your own pleasure
not me. i'm certain you don't really quite want me
in my messy, emotional isolation
i'm too much work for you. i'm way too difficult
laden with layer upon layer of baggage
you love being with me except for all of that
and you have told me as much, using other words
i was determined that you get what you needed
regrouped when you let me know it wasn't working
was surprised that you could actually get there
satisfying you, making sure you had no cause
to speculate what on earth could be wrong with me
i gave myself to you as you wanted me to
not as i want to share my inner self with you
which i shared instead with the cold dark of the night

Not what I was talking about

When I affirmed you in your Easter letter for our progress on prioritizing our "coupledom," I wasn't suggesting that we could quit working on it or drift back into the way things had been.

I've been dealing with some really old emotional baggage as a result of a few minutes of a t.v. scene that was on when I got home on Tuesday night. It would have been really nice to have talked with you about it. I'm pretty much done with it now, though, and it's another piece of me you may never know; if you ever ask me about it I'll be glad to share it, but I'm past it for now so will probably not bring it up myself. It isn't that I was hiding it from you; there was literally no opportunity to talk with you about it while I was dealing with it, short of interrupting you in the middle of something you were watching. I could do that, of course, and when I really need to I will.

When we get so distant from each other, there is nothing that bridges the emotional void I feel inside except real time together.

But you've also put the kibosh on weekly date night. I suppose you'd rather reserve the concept of a date for what it was when we were sixteen years old rather than have a regular opportunity for us to have quality time that allows us to deal with things. Is it because dealing with things is too much work and dates should always just be play?

(I know this next thing is harsh, but:) Or maybe it's just too much work, in general, being married to me? I mean, I've never thought of myself as "high maintenance," but maybe I am, in my own emotional way.

And maybe what I was lauding wasn't real progress, but just circumstance, normal ebb and flow?

Two articles a number of my friends would rail against

Why I Don't Call Myself a Gay Christian - by Daniel Mattson
Catholic, Gay, and Feeling Fine - by Steve Gershom

I so respect these writers for acknowledging their struggles to live as they are called. We live in a world in which any attempt to live without indulging our sexual impulses is derided as disordered. Whether it is because of the violence which the actively gay community has historically received or is merely rooted in our natural inclination to justify ourselves most strenuously when we are most inwardly aware of our wrongness, I'm certain that people who speak words such as this are met with widespread derision from those who disagree with what they are saying about our nature.

Favorite lyric

We did a lot of wonderful music for Easter.  Here's my favorite lyric (for the second straight Easter, which makes sense since we didn't do anything new this year given our state of flux), from The Holy Heart:

The holy heart was broken, sent from the Father's side
The Son of God afflicted, the holy sacrifice
For me he was forsaken, for me he died alone
My sin forever taken that I might be his own.
That I might be his own. 

The holy lamb was stricken, abandoned and alone
He bore the world's affliction, he bore it as his own
For me he was forsaken, for me he died alone
My sin forever taken that I might be his own.
That I might be his own. 

And when my heart is broken, torn by my sin and pride
The Son of God, now risen, will draw me to his side!
For me he was forsaken, for me he died alone
My sin forever taken that I might be his own. 

For me he was forsaken, for me he died alone
My sin forever taken that I might be his own.
That I might be his own.

Today's word

boulevardier \bull-uh-vahr-DYAY\ - a frequenter of the Parisian boulevards; broadly : man-about-town

Unlike many near-synonyms, "boulevardier" is generally a complimentary term.  I'd have never guessed.

Roots

So, could it be that my longing for an impossible reconciliation with "daddy" is nothing more than another example of feeling insignificant and wanting to matter?

A void

I know I have a heavenly Father who meets my every need, so this longing I'm still feeling in my heart this morning for my earthly father must be some other sort of indicator entirely.

In hindsight, I know my mom dedicated her life to keeping me from ever noticing his absence. While that certainly created its own other issues, she accomplished her goal for 52 years after he left, and even for 11 years after she died. Nicely done, Mom.

A contrast

Coming home from my first prayer meeting in three weeks, an uplifting celebration as we rejoiced together in the risen Lord, my bride was watching the last movie of the Sarah Plain and Tall trilogy. I've never seen beyond the first of them, which was a pretty decent movie for a made-for-tv production. So it isn't as if I was put off by the fact that these were on; there is plenty of entertainment I just disdain, but these I have a basic respect for.

Still, the scene I walked in on was a reconciliation between a middle-aged man and the elderly father who had abandoned him and his mother when he was a young child. It struck me as an honest scene, resonant with the complex dynamics that such a moment would be likely to have in real life, as this regret-filled father had the emotional integrity not to ask forgiveness or understanding of his son as he forthrightly shared the reasons for his long-ago decision and the effects it had on his life without minimizing the effects it had also had on his wife and son. In response, this son shared a bit of what the experience had been like for himself and his mother, without heaping anger upon the man who had caused their pain. As a result of their honest sharing, they were able to share a moment of mercy and grace together in the form of a heartfelt embrace, for which the father was clearly deeply grateful.

I had to leave the room.

I know I have a heavenly Father who makes up for every lack in my life. Yet I was still filled with an overwhelming longing for the earthly father I have never known, who set my life in motion as he should have never done - that is a statement against his adultery, not my existence - and then left it as he should.

It's a good thing . . .

. . . that we don't live close enough to have O's season tickets.  I'd gain ten pounds!

Today's words

balneology \bal-nee-AH-luh-jee\ - the science of the therapeutic use of baths

The related balneotherapy and its practitioners - balneotherapists - should be evident.


provenience \pruh-VEE-nee-unss\ - origin, source

Why we needed another word for "provenance" is beyond me.

Notes to self:

on separate writing exercises from the weekend:

- when affirming someone, spend some time figuring out the balance between what you appreciate and what will help the recipient feel the appreciation you're trying to express.

- when you make the effort to capture thoughts that are resonating with you, spend an extra few moments making sure you haven't undercut them by editing poor grammar into them.