New Category... Things My friend Henry says...

Things Henry says...

"Gay priest jokes
are like shooting minnows
in an 8 once cup

using a howitzer

at point blank range."

Not much left to say about that. " :)

From the Inside Looking Out

(A piece of writing which attempts to convey to others what the phenomenon of trauma, PTSD, and brain injury feels like from the victim's perspective.)


Soul Crashes and Dark Nights of the Car

I’m an injured person. We are all injured people, however it manifests itself in different ways in each life. I’d like you to know that I too am an injured person and even perhaps a bit more injured than you. A few years ago I could have been just another dead twenty-something year old Catholic saint; without the saint part. I have a brain injury. Things just don’t connect quite right upstairs. However, despite this I have a Mensa level IQ. It is hard feeling dumb when you are not. It wasn’t my fault. The accident. It is not like I was drunk or high or even being stupid. I’m twenty-something, not stupid. I’m not stupid. I was rear ended. Terror. Noise. Blackness. Hypergosia. Things haven’t been the same. It’s hard feeling dumb when you are not. It’s worse feeling crazy when you are not. I knew I wasn’t dumb. I wasn’t so sure I wasn’t crazy.

When you are young you trust doctors. Doctors know what they are doing. Doctors have your best interest at heart. Trust doctors. Doctors are adults. Adults know what they are doing. But why do some of these doctors look the same age as me? Doctors are supposed to be adults. I don’t feel like an adult. Why don’t I feel like an adult? The doctors said there was nothing wrong with me. That is wrong. Wrong. Wrong. I feel wrong. They make me feel crazy. Am I crazy? I am not crazy, though I felt crazy for a while. For a while the doctors all told me I was fine. I am not fine. I’m anything BUT fine. I’ll never, never, never be fine again. I’m NOT FINE! No one listens. The doctors say I am fine. It’s hard feeling dumb when you are not. I felt dumb. I felt crazy. Alone. Dumb and crazy…and all alone. Alone, so very alone. And crazy. Crazy alone. Alone, alone, alone. Lonely. Crazy. Confused. So confused. I don’t understand. Maybe I am dumb. Crazy. Crazy, crazy. Crazycrazycrazycrazycrazycrazy. It hurts.

Confession is like a giant Band-Aid. The priest says it sounds like trauma, not crazy. He knew I wasn’t crazy. I’m glad somebody knew. I sure didn’t. A new doctor discovered the brain injury. Perhaps crazy is off the table now.

Damage to the brain is permanent. That is what I have learned. That’s a pretty bum deal since it wasn’t my fault. They say the key is therapy. Therapy to work around it. To learn to do old things in new ways. It still sucks. I also realize that I am BORED out of my mind. NOT crazy. Lonely. Bored and lonely. So very alone. I know what Chesterton said about being crazy. Thinking that I am crazy proves that I am not. I may be a little crazy, like everybody, but not in THAT way. I’ve done Gilbert proud. My head in the clouds but not clouds in my head. Unless you count the brain injury. There things feel a bit cloudy. But THAT is okay now too. A holy Polish priest prayed over me one day and the fog in my head stays mostly dissipated now. Then suddenly I remember how lonely I feel. I sometimes want the fog back. No one understands. People get angry and frustrated with me when they don’t understand. That isn’t fair. It’s not my fault. Why don’t they remember it is not my fault.

I’m trying to be normal. I’m pretty good at acting. This may be the biggest role of my life… playing “normal”. I don’t think it’s working very well. They still look at me… like THAT. I wish they wouldn’t look at me like that. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. I’m trying to be normal. It’s NOT my fault! I wish they wouldn’t look at me. Not if they are going to look at me like that. If I avoid them, then I won’t have to see them looking at me. Looking at me with their pity written all over their face. Looking at me…like an object…like something…something broken. Something less. Less than themselves. I’d like to shove their pity up their nose! But their expressions, they brand me. It hurts and all I want to do is cry. People should not be allowed to wear expressions that make people cry. So I don’t look. I don’t talk. I just follow with my head down and my hair falling out.

There is another sort of look. One I dread more. I shudder. I don’t like thinking of it. It’s worse than pity. Pity, at least, is a twisted sort of love. Maybe. I don’t know. I can pretend. But that annoyance… that frustration, it inevitably spews anger all over. I hate that the most. I hate it. I am not trying to be annoying. It is not fair to be annoyed at me. I’m trying not to be in the way. I’m trying not to be a pain. I’m trying not to be so broken. I’m trying very hard to be normal and to speak straight and to not burst into tears and not jump at sudden noises or flinch when people touch me or zone out when I’m overwhelmed! I try to stifle my panic when you all drive too fast or brake too fast or turn too fast. I know the passenger side brake pedal is broken. I know, but I can’t help using it. I can’t help it. It is not fair to be annoyed. It is not fair to be angry at me. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. I’m not crazy. It’s not my fault. Don’t be angry. Don’t make me feel like a burden. Forgive me for throwing paint brushes at you. You frightened me. I can’t handle your anger. It is not fair to be angry. It makes me frightened and ashamed. It makes it hard to remember that “ashamed” is wrong. Because it is not my fault. And I am NOT crazy. I’m just broken.

Unfortunately, I have learned that being broken is the worst thing to be if you are American. Broken is the ultimate evil. Broken gets in the way of efficiency. It gets in the way of fun. It gets in the way of fun fuzzy feel good fictions. Brokenness destroys fictions. People don’t like their fictions destroyed. They would rather destroy the broken. Or make them go hide themselves away. But I know a secret. You are all broken too. Hypocrites. You are all broken too, yet you shove each other out of the way to be able to throw the first stone at me. Just because I can’t hide my “broken”. Just because my “broken” shows. I have another secret though. I am probably smarter than most of you fiction addicts. I am not stupid. I am VERY much not stupid. Go flush your stupid annoyed angry faces down a toilet. You make me sick.

I am lonely. I miss my best friend. I can’t even remember when we stopped talking. She doesn’t know about how I almost died. She doesn’t know about the brain injury. She just stopped calling. Then stopped visiting. Then I gave up on trying to reconnect. Perhaps I am glad she isn’t around to see the difference having a cracked brain makes. I’m not who I would have said myself was. And when I say that I miss my best friend, I am not entirely sure if I mean her or the One I used to go visit in the chapel. He is another victim of the accident. I can’t bring myself to go there anymore. I don’t know why. Maybe I don’t want to know why. But I do miss Him. Sunday’s are just so formal. What is wrong with me? Please don’t answer that.

My friend walked away! I can’t DO this alone! Was there something wrong with me? The cracked brain came AFTER. If I wasn’t worth knowing anymore, then I’m really screwed now. I don’t smile anymore. I noticed that. I never smile. There is no levity. I never even feel the urge to laugh. Nothing is funny. My brain is cracked and I’m terribly lonely. I am not crazy, but tell that to my parents. I hate my life. My best friend ran away and I can no longer face the man in the chapel. Why didn’t he save me? I can’t DO this alone!

I seem to have traded all my smiles for tears. And my hair is falling out. Two things can be counted on; my hair falling out all over everywhere, and my tendency to burst into tears. It wasn’t my fault, but I’m stuck with this forever. The friends that are left won’t say it to my face, but I have changed… and it is awkward. Scars in my soul. Scars in my head. Scars on my arm. When did this happen? This cannot be me! This cannot be real! I don’t know who I am anymore! Will I wake up at any moment? It’s hard feeling dumb when you’re not. And the pain… it is just too much. Silence echoes from the heavens. And my hair is falling out!

And I’m bleeding. It frightens me. The doctor, the head injury guy, I told him. He said “hemorrhoids” and dismissed it. He was wrong. He was very wrong and it almost killed me. That came later. Later I found I was much more broken that I knew. More pain. So much more pain. I didn’t really know what broken meant until later. One’s body isn’t supposed to betray you. I don’t want to think about it. No. NO! Nonononononononono!

I’m avoided. I can’t do this alone. I am so tired of needing to be strong. So very tired of needing to be strong for myself. There is no one to be strong for me. I am so sick and tired of being sick and tired of being sick and tired. If I stop being strong… I’m afraid. I’m afraid to stop being strong. I have no choice. They all leave me alone, broken brain and all. I’m not crazy, but I’ve changed. I don’t recognize myself. No one notices, but there is a stranger in my head and it is me. There are cuts that no one notices. The presence in the silence is gone. It is hard to pray to an empty silence. Where did the living silence flee too? Did He flee from me? I’m sorry. Please come back. Don’t leave me too. Has He gone, or was He ever there? I no longer go to the chapel. I don’t know why. Or maybe I’m afraid that the silence there is empty also. I don’t want to have been mistaken. I can’t do this alone. He’s the only one I ever truly had. Oh God! Please be real!

There’s no one to talk to. It is too hard for some to face. The difference. The difference is too much for them and I often can’t figure out the words. The thoughts are still there, but the words come out funny, if at all. I’m an inmate in my own skull. If eyes are windows does ANYONE see the prisoner staring out? There is no way to escape it. I’m lonely and scared. More scared than ever before. Mothers know. Mom says I’m not used to being the broken one, the small one. My prolific pen was quit speaking. My journal lays empty. Perhaps she is right.

Why don’t I draw anymore? Why is the silence so empty? Why does the world punish the innocent? Why does our spirit remind us that we are not so innocent? And the silence, THE WRETCHED SILENCE IS SOO EMPTY! I cannot take anymore emptiness. I am filled up to the top with it. The silence has never been empty before. Does God take vacations? If angels were allowed to plug my ears and screen my eyes, is THIS how the world would seem? So, so very empty?

I’m stuck in the stream of time and the world swirls in eddies around me. Past me. I am stuck. There is a broken clock in my head. I feel no older than the day the car struck. Years trickle down the drain and if I blink I might miss it all.

I can’t sleep.

Time Off

I am taking a vacation from blogging until certain projects are finished.
God Bless!

Double Standard: Assaults Ignored

Just one example of violence inflicted on peaceful pro-life protesters by pro-choice supporters.
A majority of incidents of violence between these two groups is inflicted by persons of pro-choice attitudes, but when was the last time anyone heard a report about this on the news?

This month in New Mexico, a pro-choice woman attacked some pro-life protesters, using her car keys as a weapon she inflicted a deep bleeding gash on one man's head. The violence was caught on video. Her car license plate number was noted and the police were called. By the time the video was posted to the site www.prochoiceviolence.com there had still been no responce by the police to the issue of this assault. Since then the woman has indeed been summoned to court to answer for assault and battery charges and a local news station ran a brief clip of the story. That is more news coverage than most violence against pro-life activists receives.

See the video that the national news media ignored: HERE.

I'm Here... Where Is My Mammogram?

Planned Parenthood claims they provide essential basic health care services to poor and underprivileged women.

Just TRY to find a Planned Parenthood in your area that actually offers the "essential" services (like mammograms) that they say they offer. There is a video you need to see.

Planned Parenthood and Mammograms

.

Let's Discuss Modesty...

Reader discretion advised.



While surfing the web I recently came across an unsavory practice called "Bubbling".
It shocked me, but soon my brain saw how it can be used to illustrate an important point about the importance of modesty.

First of all an art instructor recently commented on how modern people undervalue the language of clothing. How a person dresses communicates to their viewer. Blindly following certain fashion trends is like parroting the words of another person without thinking of the content first.

Thus, the topic of modesty.

Most (I'd love to say "all") sane women would never go window-shopping downtown in nothing but their bra and underwear.
However, a large percentage of these same women don't blink twice when wearing a bikini to a beach.

What is the difference? Not much.
Really the only difference is that it has become socially acceptable to be unclad at beaches, but it is still considered "crude" to do so in town.

So what is the problem?
Men and women are different and the way their brains work follows suit.

Now I'd like to come back to where I started with the phenomenon of "Bubbling".
The pictures will explain what it is and why it is called what it is called.

Also, I'd like to postulate that this is (more or less) a pretty accurate example of the difference between the male and female view on the language of modesty (or lack of).

The girls see themselves "as is". This is to say, what the photo reveals is the image they are conscious of presenting to the world.





However, the current practice that some guys are using called "bubbling" reveals how the male brain (in most cases) is ACTUALLY seeing these girls.




Now, these are the SAME photos. In fact nothing at all has been subtracted from the scene. In fact, one could argue that more skin is covered up in the second set of photos.
However, most girls would be horrified if they saw "bubbled" photos of themselves.

Many parents have no problem with their teenage girls wearing bikinis. However I would bet that those same parents would have a very strong negative reaction to seeing their bikinied children in a "bubbled" photo.

I would hope that ANY female would be deeply disturbed by the fact that an innocent photo taken of them at the beach can be turned into soft porn without their knowledge.

Might I point out that the simple act of wearing even a one piece bathing suit makes it harder for your image to be abused and much easier for onlookers to maintain custody of their eyes. Though, even then, it still results in a somewhat uncomfortable image when "bubbled".


It is food for thought.
Perhaps we need to think about it more often.

Visual Exploration of The Creative Process

Compliments of Brain Pickings...
#1

#2

#3

I can soooo relate to these. :)

The Mystical Beauty of Iconology

Forgive the lack of posts last month. I have been out of town a lot this summer.

One such vacation was spent for a week at an iconography retreat up north conducted by the Prosopon School of Iconology. I have been awestruck by the profound depth of meaning put into these images. I feel compelled to look into the obvious and exciting connections between inconology and the Theology of the Body.

As I discover and enrich my own understanding of this breathtaking art I will share my observations with you.

For now, here is the image of my finished icon from the retreat.

My New Favorite Tea

I picked up a new tea today and I am declaring it my current favorite.

Organic Guayaki brand Yerba Mate. Mate Chocolatte flavor.
It contains yerba mate leaf, cocoa seed, nutmeg, cinnamon, stevia leaf, and clove.
Mmmmmmm.

The taste reminds me of Ukrainian Christmas. This is because the taste is remisicint of "Kutia" – a Christmas dessert with honey, nuts, poppy seeds and wheat/buckwheat.

Please Cry

I don't always agree with the articles on Psychcentral.com, but this one was worth the read.

7 Good Reasons to Cry: The Healing Property of Tears

By Therese J. Borchard
Associate Editor

New York Times reporter Benedict Carey referred to tears in a piece as “emotional perspiration.” Given that I sweat a lot and hate deodorant, I suppose it makes sense that I weep often. But I’m not going to apologize for that, because after a good cry, I always feel cleansed, like my heart and mind just rubbed each other’s backs in a warm bath.

In his intriguing article, “The Miracle of Tears”, from which I’ve borrowed some of the research for this post, author Jerry Bergman writes: “Tears are just one of many miracles which work so well that we taken them for granted every day.” Here, then, are seven ways tears and the phenomenon we call “crying” heal us physiologically, psychologically, and spiritually.

1. Tears help us see.

Starting with the most basic function of tears, they enable us to see. Literally. Tears not only lubricate our eyeballs and eyelids, they also prevent dehydration of our various mucous membranes. No lubrication, no eyesight. Writes Bergman: “Without tears, life would be drastically different for humans — in the short run enormously uncomfortable, and in the long run eyesight would be blocked out altogether.”

2. Tears kill bacteria.

No need for Clorox wipes. We’ve got tears! Our own antibacterial and antiviral agent working for us, fighting off all the germs we pick up on community computers, shopping carts, public sinks, and all those places the nasty little guys make their homes and procreate. Tears contain lysozyme, a fluid that the germ-a-phobic dreams about in her sleep, because it can kill 90 to 95 percent of all bacteria in just five to 10 minutes! Which translates, I’m guessing, to three months’ worth of colds and stomach viruses.

3. Tears remove toxins.

Biochemist William Frey, who has been researching tears for as long as I’ve been searching for sanity, found in one study that emotional tears–those formed in distress or grief–contained more toxic byproducts than tears of irritation (think onion peeling). Are tears toxic then? No! They actually remove toxins from our body that build up courtesy of stress. They are like a natural therapy or massage session, but they cost a lot less!

4. Crying can elevate mood.

Do you know what your manganese level is? No, neither do I. But chances are that you will feel better if it’s lower because overexposure to manganese can cause bad stuff: anxiety, nervousness, irritability, fatigue, aggression, emotional disturbance and the rest of the feelings that live inside my happy head rent-free. The act of crying can lower a person’s manganese level. And just like with the toxins I mentioned in my last point, emotional tears contain 24 percent higher albumin protein concentration — responsible for transporting many small molecules (which has to be a good thing, right?) — than irritation tears.

5. Crying lowers stress.

Tears really are like perspiration in that exercising and crying both relieve stress. For real. In his article, Bergman explains that tears remove some of the chemicals built up in the body from stress, like the endorphin leucine-enkaphalin and prolactin, the hormone I overproduce because of my pituitary tumor that affects my mood and stress tolerance. The opposite is true too. Bergman writes, “Suppressing tears increases stress levels, and contributes to diseases aggravated by stress, such as high blood pressure, heart problems, and peptic ulcers.

6. Tears build community.

In her “Science Digest” article, writer Ashley Montagu argued that crying not only contributes to good health, but it also builds community. I know what you’re thinking: “Well, yeah, but not the right kind of community. I mean, I might ask the woman bawling her eyes out behind me in church what’s wrong or if I can help her, but I’m certainly not going to invite her to dinner.”

I beg to differ. As a prolific crier, especially on video, I always come away astounded by the comments … the resounding support of people I know all that well, and the level of intimacy exchanged among them. Read for yourselves some of the comments on both my self-esteem video and my recent death and dying video and you’ll appreciate my point. Tears help communication and foster community.

7. Tears release feelings.

Even if you haven’t just been through something traumatic or are severely depressed, the average Jo goes through his day accumulating conflicts and resentments. Sometimes they gather inside the limbic system of the brain and in certain corners of the heart. Crying is cathartic. It lets the devils out. Before they wreak all kind of havoc with the nervous and cardiovascular systems. Writes John Bradshaw in his bestseller Home Coming: “All these feelings need to be felt. We need to stomp and storm; to sob and cry; to perspire and tremble.” Amen, Brother Bradford!

Source.

Be Satisfied With Me

Everyone longs to give themselves completely to someone,

to have a deep soul relationship with another,

to be loved thoroughly and exclusively.

But to a Christian, God says "No, not until you are satisfied,

fulfilled, and content with being loved by Me alone,

with giving yourself totally and unreservedly to Me,

with having an intensely personal and unique relationship with Me alone.

Discovering that only in ME is your satisfaction to be found

will you be capable of the perfect human relationship that I have planned for you.

You will never be united to another

until you are united with Me,

exclusive of anyone or anything else,

exclusive of any other desires or longings.

I want you to stop planning, stop wishing, and allow ME to give you

the most thrilling plan existing... one that you cannot imagine.

I want you to have the best!

Please allow Me to bring it to you.

You keep watching Me, expecting the greatest thing.

Keep experiencing the satisfaction that I am.

Keep listening and learning the things that I tell you.

Just wait, that's all.

Don't be anxious. Don't worry.

Don't look around at things the others have gotten

or that I have given to them.

Don't look around at the things you think you want.

Just keep looking off and away up to ME

or you'll miss what I want to show you.

And then, when you are ready, I will surprise you with a love

far more wonderful than you would ever dream.

You see, until you are ready and until the one I have for you is ready,

I am working even at this moment to have both of you ready at the same time,

until you are both satisfied exclusively with Me and the life I have prepared for you,

you wont be able to experience the love that exemplifies your relationship with Me.

And this is perfect love.

And, dear one, I want you to have this most wonderful love.

I want you to see in the flesh a picture of your relationship with Me,

and to enjoy materially and concretely the everlasting union of beauty, perfection,

and love that I offer you with Myself.

Know that I love you utterly.

For I am God. Believe it, and be satisfied.

~Author Unknown

Ideal Slacker Outfit of the Day

Get ready for the day.

First put your shirt on.



Affix mood appropriate button.



Fix your hair at least somewhat. Make it look like you tried.



Necklace...check.




Earrings...what?



Patron of Lost Causes...why not. Can't hurt. :)


NOW we are ready for the day!!!

(You can most of these items on Etsy.com)

A Family Should ADORE Together

A FAMILY OF SAINTS
Eucharistic Adoration Leads to Sanctification

"Remain in Him now, little ones, so that, when He reveals Himself, we may be fully confident and not retreat in shame at His coming. If you consider the holiness that is His, you can be sure that everyone who acts in holiness has been begotten by Him" (1 Jn. 3:28-29).

During her short life on this earth St. Thérèse of Lisieux was a 'little one.' Born January 2, 1873, Thérèse was the youngest child of 9 in the Martin family, 4 having died in infancy. Louis and Zelie had instilled a strong Catholic faith in their children, both in teaching and example. They attended daily mass and frequent adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, as a family. In addition, Louis belonged to the Nocturnal Adoration Society. They prayed at home daily, together, and had a great devotion to Our Lady. Zelie's greatest desire in life was that all of her children become Saints. Zelie became very ill and was so weak that she could not even open the Church door. She would go to Church and wait on the steps for someone to open the door so she could attend Mass and adoration of Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament. When Zelie died of cancer at age 45, little Thérèse was only 4 years old. Zelie left her children with their strong faith and love which carried them through their intense period of grief and mourning. Marie, Pauline, Leonie and Celine, Thérèse's older sisters, became her great consolation. Her Father, Louis Martin, tried to lovingly protect Thérèse and her sisters from the darkness of the world.

Painting by Celine Martin, sister of St. Therese

Little Thérèse grew very close to Our Lady, especially after her earthly mother went to heaven. Our Lady took this special little one by the hand and formed her into a beautiful spouse for her Son. When Thérèse was 14 years of age she went to Rome on a pilgrimage with her father and sister to see the Holy Father. She begged the Pope to allow her to enter Carmel, as a religious sister, even though the rules clearly stated that she had to be much older.

He told her not to worry, if it was God's will it would happen. Upon returning home, in thanksgiving to Jesus, her King, for the grace of the pilgrimage, she donated her gold bracelet to be part of a monstrance which would adorn Him from that time to the present. This monstrance is at Le Sacre Coeur in Montmartre, Paris, where they have Perpetual Eucharistic Adoration, which began during her life and still continues today--over a hundred years later!

When Thérèse entered Carmel, at age 15, she grew rapidly in the virtue of humility, the mother of all virtues. She quickly grew in wisdom and grace, so much so that she was appointed novice mistress a few years after she entered the convent. This little one with her little way grew in such holiness in such a short time that God soon called her home to heaven where she could adore Him perpetually for eternity, and do so much more to help save souls and bring them to Him. Thérèse died on September 30, 1897, at 24 years of age. She said "My mission--to make God loved--will begin after my death." Thérèse promised, "I will spend my heaven doing good on earth. I will let fall a shower of roses." To this day she still showers down countless roses on those who invoke her aid.

St. Thérèse, the Little Flower, is one of God's very special little ones indeed! She was an exceptionally gifted writer, poet, lyricist and artist. Yet, in spite of her many talents, it was her little way, which is so very powerful, that crowned her as a Doctor of the Church! Her little way is a way that anyone can follow, with God's grace. It is being small--humble, in being loving-- charitable, in being meek--docile, in being a little child of God. It is the way of salvation, the way of holiness, the way of Sanctity, the way of God!

St. Thérèse did not learn her little way by means of extensive travel, by attending great universities, or by reading scholarly books. She learned this little way at the feet of Jesus in the most Blessed Sacrament (Whom she spent several hours with each day): by praying, meditating and contemplating His real presence in the Sacred Host, and by pondering His words in scripture, the book of love, as she called it. He gave her all she needed, and more, so that she could love and serve others not only in her monastery but in the whole world. Those who have read her autobiography, The Story of A Soul, know how she prayed, sacrificed and aided in the salvation of numerous souls while she was on this earth. At one time during her life, she wanted to be a missionary and travel to China, and many other countries, to help save souls. She did exactly that, not by traveling, but by offering up all of the routine, daily little prayers, penances and sacrifices for the success of the work of the missionaries and the salvation of souls. She did such an outstanding job that she has the title of Co-Patroness of the missions, with St. Francis Xavier! She is also Co-Patroness of France along with her patroness St. Joan of Arc!

St. Thérèse of Lisieux is a Saint that we can all try to emulate. Her little way can be our little way; it is within our reach. We can offer up all of our daily annoyances, inconveniences, trials, disappointments, things that we don't like doing and so forth, for the love of God and others--for the salvation of souls.

St. Thérèse is also a tremendous witness to the great importance of Holy Families. Her faith was born of the strong Catholic faith and the daily living of it, which came from her parents. They are role models for Catholic parents today. As parents, both biological and spiritual, we need to keep God's design for us and our children foremost in our minds, hearts and lives. That design is no less than Sanctity for each one of us and our children, and all of His children!

St. Thérèse said of her parents "God gave me a father and a mother more worthy of heaven than of earth." Louis and Zelie did such an outstanding job as parents and were so holy that both of their causes for beatification are being considered. All five of their daughters became religious sisters. Strengthened by The Eucharist Louis and Zelie inspired and led Therese, and her sisters, along the path of Sanctity. Some of their other daughters are also being considered for beatification!

These times in which we live are surely not enveloped in any less darkness than the time of the Martin family. Let us invoke the intercession of St. Thérèse, and her family, for our own salvation and that of our families, indeed the salvation of the whole family of God. She is still doing a tremendous amount of good on earth. She will intercede for us and continue to shower down roses from heaven!

St. Thérèse is the patroness of missionaries, although she never left her convent. She died at the early age of 24, yet accomplished great things through the power of prayer before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. The Church made her the patroness of missionaries to emphasize this most important truth: one soul coming before the Blessed Sacrament can change the world! "There is only one thing to do here below, to love Jesus, to win souls for Him that He may be loved"
(St. Thérèse). (Copyright 1999, L. Bracy. All rights reserved).

Angel of my Eucharist
It is you who will delight my heart
Yes, it is your sweet melody
That will console my sorrow.
I thirst to give myself to souls
But too many hearts are indifferent
Seraphim, give them your flames
Bring them with your sweet songs.
I would like the soul of the Priest

To look like the heavenly Seraphim!
I would like him to be born anew
Before going up to the Altar!

In order to obtain this miracle
Some souls near the tabernacle,
Praying unceasingly,
Should offer themselves to me every day.
(Words of Jesus from a play by St. Thérèse)

Painting by St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face

“By our little acts of charity practiced in the shade we convert souls far away, we help missionaries, we win for them abundant alms; and by that means build actual dwellings spiritual and material for our Eucharistic Lord.” (St. Thérèse)

Home link

St. Therese and Healing of Broken Hearts

Words of St. Therese

Therese's painting palette

If a piece of canvas painted upon by an artist could think and speak, it certainly would not complain at being constantly touched and retouched by the brush, and would not envy the lot of that instrument, for it would realize it was not to the brush but to the artist using it that it owed the beauty with which it was clothed. The brush would not be able to boast of the masterpiece produced with it, as it knows that artists are not at a loss; they play with difficulties, and are pleased to choose at times weak and defective instruments.

I am a little brush which Jesus has chosen in order to paint His own image in the souls entrusted to my care. An artist does not use only one brush, but needs at least two: the first is the more useful and with it he applies the general tins and covers the canvas entirely in a very short time; the other, the smaller one, he uses for details.

Our Prayer

Good Jesus, Artist of our Souls, we need Your healing touch. Disappointments, disillusionment and betrayals have discolored our soul. We are brokenhearted because we expect so much; we sense the the beautiful portrait of our life has been ruined. We have lost faith in ourselves as Your dwelling place and Your image – as the canvas where You are painting beauty.

We don’t let your inclusive and colorful love define us. We let hurts and anger harden our hearts, and transmit them to others. Our self-pity explodes in self-destructive ways or in violent attitudes, judgments, words and silence toward others. In the heavy emptiness of our hearts, we let power, privilege, prestige and plenty define us and justify our less-than-true selves.

Like St. Therese, help us transcend the heartbreaking disappointments of life and embrace the holy opportunities that are Your grace everywhere. Touch our brokenness, Lord Jesus. Your suffering and death opened You to God and the salvation of all. Transform the sufferings of our broken hearts into a deeper longing for You and a clearer vision of life in faith, with You as the Artist.

We ask You this, through the intercession of St. Therese, who teaches us confidence and trust in Your love.

Article by Fr. Bob here.

Creepy Fascinating Art

Choi Xooang

(click images for detail)

All at once delicate and nightmarish these painted polymer clay figures by Seoul-based artist Choi Xooang are nothing short of remarkable. Try as I might it’s hard to find a definitive, trustworthy article to source information from, and even the spelling of his name seems to change from site to site. However it seems generally accepted that Xooang is attempting to draw attention to human rights abuses in Korea, and seeing these somewhat macabre, stunted figures unable to see or speak, it’s hard to dispute that. You can see much more of his work at Mu Um and Slash, though be warned it’s somewhat graphic (generally nudity). I admit the mushroom cloud sculpture is a bit of a one-off, but I saw it was just posted yesterday and couldn’t resist. Also, if you like this, you’ll most likely enjoy the work of Emil Alzamora. (via blaaahg, lustik)

Post "Borrowed" from Colossal blog. :)

A little Bit of Cool for Today.

Artist

Michael Beitz.

This table piece... I could say a lot about how it seems to symbolize the disconnect within families, but I'll refrain. ;)

When a Dumb Ox Speaks

"Behold our refutation of the error.
It is not based on documents of faith,
but on the reasons and statements of the philosophers themselves.
If then anyone there be who, boastfully taking pride in his supposed wisdom,
wishes to challenge what we have written,
let him not do it in some corner
nor before children who are powerless to decide on such difficult matters.
Let him reply openly if he dare.
He shall find me there confronting him, and not only my negligible self,
but many another whose study is truth.
We shall do battle with his errors or bring a cure to his ignorance."

- St. Thomas Aquinas, as quoted in his biography by Chesterton

Myths of the Middle Ages

Source.

The Middle Ages spanned roughly from the 5th century to the 16th century – a total of 1,100 years. During the time following the Middle Ages (which is often referred to as the Enlightenment), the previous millennium was criticized and condemned – just as we now condemn the actions of some during the Victorian Period (sexual prudishness for example). Many of the writers of the newly invented Protestant movement harshly attacked the Middle Ages because of its Catholicity. Unfortunately many of the myths and misconceptions that sprung up at the time are still believed today. This list aims to set things straight.

10

Death Penalty

Myth: The death penalty was common in the Middle Ages

Despite what many people believe, the Middle Ages gave birth to the jury system and trials were in fact very fair. The death penalty was considered to be extremely severe and was used only in the worst cases of crimes like murder, treason, and arson. It was not until the Middle Ages began to draw to a close that people like Elizabeth I began to use the death penalty as a means to rid their nations of religious opponents. Public beheadings were not as we see in the movies – they were given only to the rich, and were usually not performed in public. The most common method of execution was hanging – and burning was extremely rare (and usually performed after the criminal had been hanged to death first).

9

Locked Bibles

Myth: Bibles were locked away to keep the people from seeing the “true word”

During the Middle Ages (until Gutenberg came along) all books had to be written by hand. This was a painstaking task which took many months – particularly with a book as large as the Bible. The job of hand-printing books was left to monks tucked away in monasteries. These books were incredibly valuable and they were needed in every Church as the Bible was read aloud at Mass every day. In order to protect these valuable books, they would be locked away. There was no conspiracy to keep the Bible from the people – the locks meant that the Church could guarantee that the people could hear the Bible (many wouldn’t have been able to read) every day. And just to show that it wasn’t just the Catholic Church that locked up the Bibles for safety, the most famous “chained bible” is the “Great Bible” which Henry VIII had created and ordered to be read in the protestant churches. You can read more about that here. The Catholic diocese of Lincoln makes a comment on the practice here.

8

Starving Poor

Myth: The poor were kept in a state of near starvation

This is completely false. Peasants (those who worked in manual work) would have had fresh porridge and bread daily – with beer to drink. In addition, each day would have an assortment of dried or cured meats, cheeses, and fruits and vegetables from their area. Poultry, chicken, ducks, pigeons, and geese were not uncommon on the peasants dinner table. Some peasants also liked to keep bees, to provide honey for their tables. Given the choice between McDonalds and Medieval peasant food, I suspect the peasant food would be more nutritious and tasty. The rich of the time had a great choice of meats – such as cattle, and sheep. They would eat more courses for each meal than the poor, and would probably have had a number of spiced dishes – something the poor could not afford. Wikipedia has an interesting article here which describes the mostly vegetable and grain diet of the peasants in the early Middle Ages, leading to more meat in the later period.

7

Thatched Roofs

Myth: Peasants had thatched roofs with animals living in them

First of all, the thatched roofs of Medieval dwellings were woven into a tight mat – they were not just bundles of straw and sticks thrown on top of the house. Animals would not easily have been able to get inside the roof – and considering how concerned the average Middle Ager was, if an animal did get inside, they would be promptly removed – just as we remove birds or other small creatures that enter our homes today. And for the record, thatched roofs were not just for the poor – many castles and grander homes had them as well – because they worked so well. There are many homes in English villages today that still have thatched roofs.

6

Smelly People

Myth: People didn’t bathe in the Middle Ages, therefore they smelled bad

Not only is this a total myth, it is so widely believed that it has given rise to a whole other series of myths, such as the false belief that Church incense was designed to hide the stink of so many people in one place. In fact, the incense was part of the Church’s rituals due to its history coming from the Jewish religion which also used incense in its sacrifices. This myth has also lead to the strange idea that people usually married in May or June because they didn’t stink so badly – having had their yearly bath. It is, of course, utter rubbish. People married in those months because marriage was not allowed during Lent (the season of penance). So, back to smelly people. In the Middle Ages, most towns had bathhouses – in fact, cleanliness and hygiene was very highly regarded – so much so that bathing was incorporated into various ceremonies such as those surrounding knighthood. Some people bathed daily, others less regularly – but most people bathed. Furthermore, they used hot water – they just had to heat it up themselves, unlike us with our modern plumbed hot water. The French put it best in the following Latin statement: Venari, ludere, lavari, bibere; Hoc est vivere! (To hunt, to play, to wash, to drink, – This is to live!)

5

Peasant Life

Myth: Peasants lived a life of drudgery and back-breaking work

In fact, while peasants in the Middle Ages did work hard (tilling the fields was the only way to ensure you could eat), they had regular festivals (religious and secular) which involved dancing, drinking, games, and tournaments. Many of the games from the time are still played today: chess, checkers, dice, blind man’s bluff, and many more. It may not seem as fun as the latest game for the Wii, but it was a great opportunity to enjoy the especially warm weather that was caused by the Medieval Warming Period.

4

Violence Everywhere

Myth: The Middle Ages were a time of great violence

While there was violence in the Middle Ages (just as there had always been), there were no equals to our modern Stalin, Hitler, and Mao. Most people lived their lives without experiencing violence. The Inquisition was not the violent bloodlust that many movies and books have claimed it to be, and most modern historians now admit this readily. Modern times have seen genocide, mass murder, and serial killing – something virtually unheard of before the “enlightenment”. In fact, there are really only two serial killers of note from the Middle Ages: Elizabeth Bathory, and Gilles de Rais. For those who dispute the fact that the Inquisition resulted in very few deaths, Wikipedia has the statistics here showing that there were (at most) 826 recorded executions over a 160 year period – from 45,000 trials!

3

Oppressed Women

Myth: Women were oppressed in the Middle Ages

In the 1960s and 1970s, the idea that women were oppressed in the Middle Ages flourished. In fact, all we need to do is think of a few significant women from the period to see that that is not true at all: St Joan of Arc was a young woman who was given full control of the French army! Her downfall was political and would have occurred whether she were male or female. Hildegard von Bingen was a polymath in the Middle Ages who was held in such high esteem that Kings, Popes, and Lords all sought her advice. Her music and writing exists to this day. Elizabeth I ruled as a powerful queen in her own right, and many other nations had women leaders. Granted women did not work on Cathedrals but they certainly pulled their weight in the fields and villages. Furthermore, the rules of chivalry meant that women had to be treated with the greatest of dignity. The biggest difference between the concept of feminism in the Middle Ages and now is that in the Middle Ages it was believed that women were “equal in dignity, different in function” – now the concept has been modified to “equal in dignity and function”.

2

Flat Earth

Myth: People in the Middle Ages believed the earth was flat

Furthermore, people did not believe the Earth was the center of the universe – the famous monk Copernicus dealt a death blow to that idea (without being punished) well before Galileo was tried for heresy for claiming that it proved the Bible was wrong. Two modern historians recently published a book in which they say: “there was scarcely a Christian scholar of the Middle Ages who did not acknowledge [Earth's] sphericity and even know its approximate circumference.”

1

Crude and Ignorant

Myth: People of the Middle Ages were crude and ignorant

Thanks largely to Hollywood movies, many people believe that the Middle Ages were full of religious superstition and ignorance. But in fact, leading historians deny that there is any evidence of this. Science and philosophy blossomed at the time – partly due to the introduction of Universities all over Europe. The Middle ages produced some of the greatest art, music, and literature in all history. Boethius, Boccaccio, Dante, Petrarch, and Machiavelli are still revered today for their brilliant minds. The cathedrals and castles of Europe are still standing and contain some of the most beautiful artwork and stonework man has been able to create with his bare hands. Medicine at the time was primitive, but it was structured and willing to embrace new ideas when they arose (which is how we have modern medicine).

Contributor: JFrater

Why Life Is Better If You Date a Girl Who Reads

"Date a girl who reads.

Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."

by Rosemarie Urquico

Shakespearean Facepalm!

The little film is brilliant. I'm sure when I have the chance to explore the other links in this (stolen) post I'll like many of them as well. However, the film on it's own was a gem worth sharing RIGHT NOW! Soo... there. ;)

Writer’s Block in Stop-Motion, Shakespeare-Style

By Maria Popova

What Romeo and Juliette have to do with William Shatner and modern justice.

395 years ago tomorrow, the great William Shakespeare took his last breath. Shakespearean Tragedy (A Comedy) is a lovely Claymationesque animated short film about Shakespeare’s writer’s block by 24-year-old Jerusalem-based animator Anna Cohen, exploring something we have an ongoing fascination with: What is creativity, and how do we overcome the obstacles in its way? After previously hearing from the very real Scott Belsky, Rainn Wilson, Kurt Andersen, Stefan Sagmeister, Steven Johnson and Isaac Asimov, it’s time we heard from imaginary-Shakespeare:

Bonus points for the Spakespearean facepalm, no?

Here are a few more intelligent ways to commemorate the iconic playwright:

• How To Read Shakespeare, part of Simon Critchley’s excellent How To Read series on the Western classics
• Approaching Shakespeare — fantastic free iTunes U course from Oxford University
• How to Think Like Shakespeare — ambitious BigThink series featuring a number of video interviews with and articles by cultural critics, neuroscientists, theater directors and more
• A Thousand Times More Fair: What Shakespeare’s Plays Teach Us About Justice — fascinating new book by Kenji Yoshino, incredibly timely in the cultural context of today’s global politics; TNR has a thoughtful review
• William Shatner on Shakespeare vs. new media

Read more: http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2011/04/22/shakespeare-writers-block-animation/#ixzz1KjjVrhp0

One Baby Too Many

(I cheated...this is from an email)

A worried woman went to her gynecologist and said:

'Doctor, I have a serious problem and desperately need your help! My
baby is not even 1 year old and I'm pregnant again. I don't want kids
so close together.

So the doctor said: 'Ok and what do you want me to do?'

She said: 'I want you to end my pregnancy, and I'm counting on your
help with this.'

The doctor thought for a little, and after some silence he said to the
lady: 'I think I have a better solution for your problem. It's less
dangerous for you too.'

She smiled, thinking that the doctor was going to accept her request.

Then he continued: 'You see, in order for you not to have to take
care 2 babies at the same time, let's kill the one in your arms. This
way, you could rest some before the other one is born. If we're going
to kill one of them, it doesn't matter which one it is. There would
be no risk for your body if you chose the one in your arms.

The lady was horrified and said: 'No doctor! How terrible! It's a
crime to kill a child!

'I agree', the doctor replied. 'But you seemed to be OK with it, so I
thought maybe that was the best solution.'

The doctor smiled, realizing that he had made his point.

He convinced the mom that there is no difference in killing a child
that's already been born and one that's still in the womb.
The crime is the same!


" Love says I sacrifice myself for the good of the other person.
Abortion says I sacrifice the other person for the good of myself..."

Lovely Media Dogs

Too beautiful not to share. Enjoy!

Samuel Price’s Incredible Dog Portrait Collages

By Maria Popova

What recycled magazines have to do with the essence of the canine soul.

We love dogs. From Tim Flach’s extraordinary dog portraits to the great mystery of how to photograph a black dog, we have a particularly soft spot for unusual ways to capture (wo)man’s best friend. That’s exactly what San Francisco collage artist Samuel Price does in his stunning dog portrait collages made of hand-cut photographs from recycled magazines.

And while the whole eco-art card may have been played and played again over the past few years, it’s worth noting that a single ton of glossy virgin paper, like that used for magazines like National Geographic, requires 15 trees to make about 1,100 magazines. Sam collages about 20 recycled magazines every day, or 48,000 over the ten years he’s been making his stunning collages — that’s 650 trees saved over the course of his creative career.

I study the image and focus on the details and subtle nuances of the mouth and eyes that make every animal unique. The relationship between the owners and their pet is special and I look forward to mirroring that affection in my work.” ~ Sam Price

For the dog lover in your life, Sam’s work can be commissioned for custom collages.

Read more:

Source.