Posted by: Peadar Ban | July 23, 2013

Today, July 23, 2013

I awoke to rain this morning, gray sky, wet grass, little rivulets running down the street.  Looking out the window of my room, through the scattering of drops on the glass I was struck first by the deep green everything growing seemed to have taken on.  Downstairs I stood for a while and listened to the soft whisper of the shower falling through the big maple, the quiet beat of drops on the little table we have in front.

Tea in hand I sat and looked out on my world, waiting for God knows what.  It wasn’t long in coming.  Charmed by the young family across the street I watched as Mom dashed out and ran to open one of the car doors then dashed back inside, soon to appear for the next task .  Voicing urgent little exclamations of surprise or dismay or what I cannot say she carried her son to the car and strapped him into his seat, quick stepping all the way.  While doing this, her older daughter ran to her to beg she open the door on the other side of the car.  That done, both children tucked away dry, she ran back inside and got the little dog, a white fur ball.  I figured out that Chloe needed a chance to sniff around for her morning constitutional before her humans could go off and do their own work.  Thank God, I thought, that Chloe is small and her constitution is short.

As they drove off down the block the heavens opened.  Some angel or saint in the heavenly weather center must have been waiting for the moment, the all clear signal to let go with the deluge.  It has ended, now, but for how long who can say.  Mariellen, my wife and gardener, is happy it happened.  I means she won’t have to water the plants today, or probably for another two or three days.  A whisper of mists soaks down, the thinnest curtain possible, a soft goodbye.  Perhaps.

Elsewhere I know the sun is shining.  But here, today, it’s the kind of day I hope we’ll not see the sun, almost too much with us these past ten days or so.  I can hear the little birds, the titmice and the chickadees, coming to the feeders from under whatever large leaf sheltered them.  There’s a chipmunk, now, leaping over the wet grass, headed for the blueberry bushes.

Let it be this was today, Lord, please.  The sun will come out tomorrow.

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St. Bridget of Sweden must have been a wonderful woman.  She was mother to eight children, one of whom was herself a saint, St. Catherine.  St. Bridget’s daughter St. Catherine accompanied her to Rome where both of the women, along with St. Catherine of Siena, worked to end the Avignon Schism.  Today, for Catholics, is the feast day of St. Bridget, a pilgrim, a mother, a saint and no mean diplomat, too.  I wonder what words she might say to some of the “Catholic” women prominent in the world today.

She was a visionary, too, and was given the grace of being spoken to by St. Mary of Nazareth (my little title for the Mother of God).  Speaking mother to mother this is something Mary told Bridget during one of their little “teas”:

“Daughter, you should have five virtues inside and five outside. The ones outside are: pure mouths free of slander, ears closed to idle talk, chaste and modest eyes, hands busy doing good works, and feet that avoid worldly affairs.Inside, you should have five other virtues. You must love God fervently, desire him wisely, distribute your temporal goods reasonably with just and upright intent, humbly flee from the world, and steadfastly await my promises with patience.”

Good advice for all.  The best advice.

Here are some other things to consider.  I like the last bit the best:

Reflections from the Saints

The joy of this life is nothing; the joy of the after life is everlasting.

– Bl. William Hart

Scripture Verse of the Day

Galatians 6:1

Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted.

Life in Christ: Catechism #2345

Chastity is a moral virtue. It is also a gift from God, a grace, a fruit of spiritual effort. The Holy Spirit enables one whom the water of Baptism has regenerated to imitate the purity of Christ.

One Minute Meditations

Victory
Tell him: Jesus, I cannot see a single perfect flower in my garden, all are blighted. It seems that all have lost their colour and their scent. Poor me! Face downwards in the muck, on the ground: that’s my place.

That’s the way, humble yourself. He will conquer in you, and you will attain the victory. – St. Josemaria Escriva

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I love Jane Morgan, and I love this song.  I’ll think of it as a prayer today:
And, just because every day is a good day, a day to praise, Psalm 150:
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