Bruce has experienced the medical turnaround that he needed. Somebody’s been praying out there, and you know who you are! His wife, mother, and sister have been at his side, with so many others close to him in spirit. Today’s news is so much better than it’s been since Monday. Although I’m sure it was nothing compared to Dana’s ordeal, yesterday was a rather exhausting day for me emotionally, and not made any better by someone who called to ask about Bruce, and then, when the subject turned to my nephew Josh’s situation, launched into a scathing denunciation of the President of the United States and his Iraq policy. Even if I’d had the inclination or energy to disagree (which I certainly did not), what could I possibly have said to affect an opinion impervious to what others have already stated so ably in support of winning the war… others more influential than me, such as John McCain or Joe Lieberman; or more intellectually gifted than me, such as Jonah Goldberg or Christopher Hitchens; or more deeply thoughtful than me, such as Tom Friedman or Ben Stein? And for cryin’ out loud, it just wasn’t a decent time to kick-start that old debate.
Archive for the ‘Prayer’ Category
Political passion trumps good manners once again
Wednesday, March 23rd, 2005
On behalf of Bruce
Tuesday, March 22nd, 2005my son, and brother in Christ…
“Let not your heart be disturbed. Do not fear any sickness or anguish. Am I not here, who is your Mother? Are you not under my protection? Am I not your health? Are you not happily within my fold? What else do you wish? Do not grieve nor be disturbed by anything…” —Our Lady of Guadalupe to Juan Diego
“Thou seest, O my Lord, Thy suppliant waiting at the door of Thy bounty, and him who hath set his hopes on Thee clinging to the cord of Thy generosity. Deny him not, I beseech Thee, the things he seeketh from the ocean of Thy grace and the Daystar of Thy loving-kindness…” —Bahá’u’lláh
“O, Mother, in thy Heart, I come to bury my anguish and to seek strength and courage. O, Mother, may my heart be hidden in thine and have no other love but the good pleasure of my Divine Master…” —Saint Bernadette
“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgiveth all thine iniquities, who healeth all thy diseases, who redeemeth thy life from destruction, who crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender mercies…” —Psalms 103:1-4
“I AM the Flame of Resurrection blazing God’s pure Light through me. Now I AM raising every atom, from every shadow I AM free. I AM the Light of God’s full Presence, I AM living ever free. Now the flame of Life eternal rises up to Victory.” —El Morya
Various & Sundry, part one
Friday, January 21st, 2005— I’ve gotten a week into this experiment and have yet to properly thank Brendan, my undaunted sponsor and kind host. So far so good. I managed to solve most of the anomalies I was experiencing by updating the firmware on our Netgear firewall/router. Although I began my first private journal in 1971 and have maintained regular entries for the past 20 years or so, this online record of thoughts is a new and stimulating venture. In time I’ll gain a better sense of how its public nature affects the tone and quality of my postings.
— Last weekend our family gathered at Kelley Ridge for a mighty demonstration of Clan-Power to achieve as much physical transformation as possible. Uncle James mused that it was the kind of event that could inspire Clan legend. With the bitter wind knifing through us as we split and stacked firewood at the edge of the ridge, Seth replied, “You won’t ever hear me talking about this day.”
— There hasn’t been much of a downside to my accepting an invitation to join the Rotary Club ten years ago, but I am beginning to notice something. One of the serious drawbacks to building relationships of affection with a bunch of great old guys pushing 80 is to witness their failing health. What have I gotten myself into?
— As true as it is that there’s no greater love than to lay down one’s life for another, I want Josh to accomplish in Iraq what he was trained to do and then safely return to his family. That is my simple prayer. I’m not precisely sure what he was trained to do, but I know that living and working each day in harm’s way is a given. I’m reminded of the closing line in The Bridges at Toko-Ri, “Where do we get such men?” The answer to that question is the same with every generation, and, as far as I’m concerned, no poet has described this vital breed more eloquently than Katharine Lee Bates when she wrote, “Oh beautiful for heroes proved in liberating strife, who more than self their country loved and mercy more than life!”