Saturday, September 25, 2010

Follow ~













St. Bonaventure wrote: "Francis sought occasion to love God in everything. He delighted in all the works of God's hands and from the vision of joy on earth his mind soared aloft to the life-giving source and cause of all. In everything beautiful, he saw him who is beauty itself, and he followed his Beloved everywhere by his likeness imprinted on creation; of all creation he made a ladder by which he might mount up and embrace Him who is all-desirable" (Legenda Major, IX, 1).


Thursday, September 23, 2010

St. Padre Pio
















"The life of a Christian is nothing but
a perpetual struggle against self;
there is no flowering of the soul
to the beauty of its perfection
except at the price of pain."

"May your heart always be
the temple of the Holy Spirit.
May Jesus always be the helmsman
of your little spiritual ship.
May Mary be the star
which shines on your path
and may she show you
the safe way
to reach the Heavenly Father. ~Amen"



Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Pause















All over my native Austria the chorus of Angelus bells rings from every church steeple, at dawn, at high noon, and again before dark in the evening. At school one day-- I was a first-grader then-- I happened to stand by an open window on the top floor looking down on "the campus," you might call it, for ours was a big, beautiful school built by the Christian brothers. It was noon. Classes had just finished and everywhere children and teachers came streaming out onto the courts and walkways. From so high up, the sight reminded me of an antihill on a hot summer day. Just then, the Angelus bell rang out from the church and at once all those busy feet down there stood still "The angel of the Lord brought the message to Mary..." We had been taught to recite this prayer in silence. Then, the ringing slowed down; one last stroke of a bell and the anthill was swarming again.

Now, so many years later, I still keep that moment of silence at noon. Bells or no bells, I pray the Angelus. I let the silence drop like a pebble right into the middle of my day and send its ripples out over its surface in everwidening circles. That is the Angelus for me; the Now of eternity rippling through time.

~ Brother David Steindl-Rast

Monday, September 13, 2010

St John Chrysostom





















"When an archer desires to shoot his arrows successfully, he first takes great pains over his posture and aligns himself accurately with his mark. It should be the same for you who are about to shoot the head of the wicked devil. Let us be concerned first for the good order of sensations and then for the good posture of inner thoughts."

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Today ~







"Something opens our wings. Something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us. We taste only sacredness." ~ Rumi ♥

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Our Happiness






God offers us, again and again unfailingly, what our first parents were so ready to throw away: a relationship with him, that is, our happiness.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

September 8







































"Today the barren Anna claps her hands for joy, the earth radiates with light, kings sing their happiness, priests enjoy every blessing, the entire universe rejoices, for she who is queen and the Father's immaculate bride buds forth from the stem of Jesse"

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

What’s Left




























I used to wait for the flowers,
my pleasure reposed on them.
Now I like plants before they get to the blossom.
Leafy ones – foxgloves, comfrey, delphiniums –
fleshy tiers of strong leaves pushing up into air
grown daily lighter and more sheened with bright dust
like the eyeshadow that tall young woman in the bookshop wears,
its shimmer and crumble on her white lids.
The washing sways on the line, the sparrows pull
at the heaps of drying weeds that I’ve left around.
Perhaps this is middle age. Untidy, unfinished,
knowing there’ll never be time now to finish,
liking the plants – their strong lives –
not caring about flowers,
sitting in weeds to write things down, look at things,
watching the sway of shirts on the line, the cloth filtering light.
I know more or less how to live through my life now.
But I want to know how to live what’s left
with my eyes open and my hands open;
I want to stand at the door in the rain listening,
sniffing, gaping. Fearful and joyous,
like an idiot before God.

~ Kerrie Hardie



Sunday, September 5, 2010

Saturday, September 4, 2010

God Breathed




















The Breath of God symbolizes the divine life manifesting itself without visible embodiment. The cloud, always closely associated with the wind, is the natural veil of a heavenly visitor. "Lo, I come unto thee in a thick cloud," said God to Moses.

"For love warms not my heart, nor can I rise, Or ope the doors of Grace, who from the skies Might flood my soul...

Rend Thou the veil, dear Lord ! Break Thou that wall...

Send down Thy promised light to cheer and fall...

That I with love may blaze, And free from doubt, my heart feel only Thee!" (Michelangelo)

art, Michelangelo, Jose Villegas






Closely Present




















Some souls think that the Holy Spirit is very far away, far, far, up above. Actually he is, we might say, the divine Person who is most closely present to the creature. He accompanies him everywhere. He penetrates him with himself. He calls him, he protects him. He makes of him his living temple. He defends him. He helps him. He guards him from all his enemies. He is closer to him than his own soul. All the good a soul accomplishes, it carries out under his inspiration, in his light, by his grace and his help.

~ Concepcion Cabrera de Armida