Okay, how powerful is this guy anyway?

My house has been on the market for 8 or 9 months now. It's getting down to the wire, because my dear fiancé and I had decided to go ahead and buy our new family home in faith that the Lord would find us a buyer for our houses. I haven't been anxious, but I've been a bit -- let's say, concerned.

On Wednesday, I never got around to opening the mail, even though it contained an interesting, knobby little parcel from my aunt. Back to that later.

Thursday morning, Henry and I were at the closing for our new house. Our realtor stepped out to take a cell call and returned to tell us that an offer would be coming over that day on my house. We reviewed it and accepted it that afternoon. So, amazingly enough, in all the 2,912 two-hour periods since I listed the house, God chose that one to bring me an acceptable offer to purchase my own. I love it when God reminds me that he's in charge.

Back to the knobby little parcel: It turns out my aunt had been concerned about the failure of the house to sell, so she sent me a little statue of St. Joseph to bury in my front yard. I'm quite fond of St. Joseph, though it never seemed particularly respectful to me to bury a representation of him upside down anywhere for any reason; I certainly had been happy to ask him to pray for me. Now I find out that he's such a powerful guy that, no sooner does he cross the threshold of my house, it sells like a hotcake.

I certainly feel well looked-after.

Adoration and Understanding

Since I'm so silent here lately, at least I can post the article I wrote for my parish bulletin. I put in a little squib once each month to announce our 24-hour Eucharistic Adoration on First Fridays. Thinking up one paragraph to place among the school announcements, lecter schedules and wedding announcements to catch the attention of the fence-sitter is a fun challenge each time.

C. S. Lewis wrote “The instruction, after all, is to ‘Take. Eat.’ It was not ‘Take. Understand.’” Part of the power of Adoration in the heart and mind is that you cannot reach the end of God! There is always something to learn, by reading the Bibles and books put out for your use, or in simply presenting your concerns to God, for a mutual review. Or, finally, just sitting quietly and being in the presence of Love Incarnate.

I so wish people would give a few minutes of their time to the simple prayer of Adoration, on the way to work, on the way home, at lunch, before a date, after a date (what a test!).... It's not scary, there's no rules (other than silence), nobody can tell if you're "doing it wrong," and you can't do it wrong!

Why Therese Z hasn't been around much, either

Actually, no excuse. Just no worthwhile bloggable thoughts, tapped out, only a bunch of harumphs, as in "Harumph. If all the rosaries strung over the rear view mirrors of cars were actually used in prayer and meditation on Christ's love for us, peace would already reign in the US!" And "Harumph. If people would just come to church for three months, say, without complaining, their lives would change, and they'd stop complaining to me!" See how fruitless?

Hope your Lent is a time of holiness, and your Spring is as exciting as Roz's.

Why Roz hasn't been around much

What he said.

My humblest apologies.

The Rhythm of Blogging and of Sundays

We've stretched out the intervals in our blogging. It's not for want of love for Christ and His Church, it's not even the volume of work this time of year for me, or for all the wonderful events in Roz' life.

I don't have much to say here right now. I spent an intense time of prayer a few days ago that almost scared me, because I'd been begging the Lord to make my love more real for Him, so that I didn't slough (sluff?) Him off amidst the business of my life, no more than I'd ignore a loved one in my house or at least in my life just because I was busy. And He gave me some time where I understood that our relationship can withstand fourteen pending deadlines at work....

So the rhythm of a relationship is there: I get distracted and I turn again to Him. Thank God for the blogworld, always there to inspire me, or to irritate me, or to make me look up an answer, to provoke me to think. And thank God for Sundays, when we are required to pay Him a little attention. Without that anchor coming around once a week, I don't know how many Christians keep their feet on the path, on the Way. I'm lucky; I can go to near-daily Mass, which is a little cycle of love and life. The bigger weekly cycle of Love and life is absolutely essential to a Christian life.

I heard a preacher this morning on the radio, a very well-spoken man of some unspecific Protestant affiliation, urge his congregation to weekly church attendance or "some other form of worship." Those weasel words right in the middle of his otherwise well-done sermon jarred me: why open the door to sinful people (me included) to define what "some other form of worship" is? Before you know it, the three-wood's in your hand, and you're "worshiping God" on the golf course.

This morning, I will go to a much later Mass at a different church, because I am sponsoring an adult friend of mine for Confirmation, so we're going to his church at times for the special times of his reception of the Sacrament. That brings up the downside of rhythm: the Scrutinies occur over three Sundays. That's three Sundays I'm away from my own church, not at my normal crack'o'dawn Mass with my normal friends and our normal coffee afterwards. I am not comfortable at this other church, I'm uncomfortable with waiting until nearly noon for Mass, I'm out of my holy rut and I don't like it one bit.

How dare I? It's Jesus Christ in all His Glory, witnessed among our frail and unskilled and sinful efforts at answering His invitation to join Him at the Last Supper, at Calvary, at the empty tomb, at the mount of Ascent. Remembering that is a humbling and enriching experience: it's not my showing up at my appointed time in my appointed way that makes Him present. I should probably take this lesson and occasionally deliberately go to another Mass (aargh! the dreaded children's choir Mass! the too-white folk-rock (but still sincere) Mass! the Spanish Mass! I can even go to a Vietnamese Mass without travelling too far, but I would probably be a little conspicuous, not being Asian...)

I hope your Lent is a blessed stretch of your spirit and heart.