TRYING TO FIT IN
See the little black and blue bird on the end? Well, I can identify with this fellow. This happens to me all the time. Whenever I try to fit in with the gang, it never works…
So you’ll just have to deal with it…
Love, Sister Olive
~♥~
HE DIED OF A BROKEN HEART…
I’m not sure what made me think of it just now, but I may as well write it down.
I remember years ago when I attended a Good Friday church service in Oregon, and a doctor came to speak about the medical perspective of Christ’s crucifixion. He told us that Jesus actually died of a broken heart, not from bleeding from His wounds or excruciating pain or other factors. Jesus must have been very strong physically.
But the scriptures say that when He was pierced in the side by a soldier, blood and water gushed out. The visiting doctor said that for water to be mixed with his blood in this way, His heart had to have burst already. Otherwise, it would have been only blood that poured out.
People all around me started weeping into tissues and handkerchiefs and I quickly joined in. My heart broke thinking of how we wounded Him with our cruelty and our ignorance and our apathy. It made me feel so ashamed.
Remember those drops of blood on His forehead in Gethsemane? Those revealed the depth of His pain as He prayed for us in the garden. Even as a child, I understood it and whenever I considered my own pain, I remembered that bloody sweat on His brow. I understood that His sorrow was even greater than mine, and it gave me solace. I knew that His love towards me was beyond the grasp of my understanding.
It still gives me comfort today through all of my personal battles. I pray every day that I don’t break His heart again with my attitudes and actions.
~♥~
MY LONG-AWAITED CHILDHOOD
I have been doing some retirement planning and analyzing my prospectus. I am heretofore preparing for my childhood. I made this important decision yesterday.
I was at a yard sale with my son and I spotted a small Fisher Price piano that plays three nursery songs: The Muffin Man, This Old Man, and Pop Goes the Weasel. I began to plink on the keys, remembering such a toy that I owned as a child. I bought it for fifty cents and went on my way.
As my son began to plink upon it in the car, I told him, “I have made an important decision. I am going to start saving for my childhood. I want to design a secret garden in my yard and store up a treasure of toys for when I am a child.”
I have been thinking a great deal about this. I want the wind-up red clock that plays Hickory-Dickory Dock. And the dome-covered popcorn popper thing with a handle that pops colorful plastic balls as you push it around the room. And the wooden inchworm on a string that bobs up and down as you pull it. And the spinning top that has spirals and balls inside and you churn it up and watch it. I am still scared of the Jack-in-the-Box, so I’ll pass on that one. How I wish I could find the battery-operated puffin with spinning striped feet and light-up eyes- it gurgles as it moves.
In my yard, I want zillions of bird feeders and iridescent glass marbles on twisted stems and miniature animals and birds and a wheelbarrow full of flowers that will change according to the seasons- and most of all, silly cliché metal signs of frogs with fishing poles and overalls who croak “Welcome to My Pad.”
From the garage, I will dig out all of the stuffed animals my sons played with when they were young: Oakley the Snowy Owl, Camilla the green and white duck who flew in one Easter, Corny the sentimental Scarecrow, the plush armadillos and possums and foxes. They shall all be my friends.
I plan to scamper around all day in my nightgown and bedroom slippers playing and pretending with my toys, and I will bring my walking stick with me to my secret garden in case I should stumble.
I plan to start my childhood early in preparation for the eternal one to come. All I ask of you is that you send my toy box with me to the nursing home. As I rest my head upon my pillow, I will practice saying the poem “The Green Moth” by Winifred Welles- the one my son used to recite to me.
The night the green moth came for me,
A creamy moon poured down the hill,
The meadow seemed a silver sea,
Small pearls hung in every tree,
And all so still, so still.
He floated in on my white bed,
A strange and soundless fellow.
I saw the horns wave on his head,
He stepped across my pillow
In tiny ermine boots, and spread
His cape of green and yellow.
He came so close that I could see
His golden eyes, and sweet and chill,
His faint breath wavered over me,
“Come child, my beautiful”, said he,
And all so still, so still.
Poem from “Skipping Along Alone” Copyright, 1931, Macmillan Publishing
~♥~
“Love all God’s creation, the whole of it and every grain of sand. Love every leaf, every ray of God’s light. Love the animals, love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, you will perceive the divine mystery in things.” Fyodor Dostoevsky
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I once saw an amazing film by Spanish filmmaker Luis Bunuel entitled “Simon of the Desert” and one scene touched me profoundly. The pure ascetic Simon bent down to bless a tiny grasshopper. When asked about the scene during an interview, Bunuel said that a really pure person will want to bless everything around them.
*
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Animals have always filled me with awe and a sense of mystery. These pictures of bears and tigers hanging around with monks convince me that even wild beasts can perceive purity of heart, and that Isaiah Chapter 11 is truly a glimpse of a world to come…
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“For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God…For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now.” Romans 8:19, 22
Photo credits: http://simplyorthodox.tumblr.com/
http://www.lmao.com/acting-like-animals-share-the-lunch/
~♥~
SHAKEN, NOT STIRRED
My sister really impressed me with the card and gift she sent me for my birthday, and I wanted to share it with you.
First, here is the card with the little tropical motif, and the art is entitled Shaken Not Stirred by Steve Katz.
That would make a great title for my story, because I would say I have been shaken but not stirred. It reminds me of one of my favorite Bible verses in II Corinthians 4:8-9 which says, “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.”
I also enjoy the little quote from Mae West, which I can imagine her saying…
But then I had another surprise when I opened the card to find this message…
Whoa! You’ve got to be kidding! It’s even got my name printed in it!!!
I called her on the phone and asked her, “Where in the world did you find this card?”
“I couldn’t believe it either when I opened it and saw the message,” she said laughing. “Now be looking out for your gift in the mail.”
A week later, I received a lovely package from Hicklebee’s bookstore with an artistic mailer and a label with a little elf sitting on a stack of books. I opened the package to find this..
Brother Sun, Sister Moon: Saint Francis of Assisi’s Canticle of the Creatures
It brought tears to my eyes as I read this beautiful prayer from one of my favorite saints with the exquisite papercuts throughout the book, and all of the nature motifs and animals in it. What a beautiful card and gift! I don’t know what else to say…I’m at a loss for words.
~♥~
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