Tag Archives: prayer

You don’t have to be Catholic to get excited about Francis

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The Seed:

Facebook Post by a Friend:

habemus papam; white smoke, actually whitish, comes out of the roof and bells toll out loud; a new leader of the Catholic Church has been elected…so what?

Today’s  Quote:

I don’t like that man. I must get to know him better.

~Abraham Lincoln

Witnessing true Catholic faith through a dear friend, by the Divinity of her everyday actions.

I have known her and her family for nearly a decade. I have watched her be a faithful, loving & supporting wife to her husband; raise four amazing children with all the holy love a mother can; come to know the loving parents by whom she herself was raised and taught the values by which she lives; seen her walk in stride (from learning that she grew her own vegetables to save money when she & her husband were struggling to make ends meet and fresh out of college) meeting her at the height of  a gain of worldly riches through honest hard work; seeing her after the loss much of those worldly riches with the collapse of the economy circa 2009 and knowing she fell ill and was all but bed ridden for the following year; evidenced that she still picked herself up by sheer strength of faith & will to move forward.

Through all that (and surely even more than what I know) she is the same down to earth, selfless, inspiring person today as she was when I first met her.

External circumstances change, her faith never has.

The Epiphany:

Comment on the seed planted by the Facebook Post by a Friend…

I am far from Catholic. Therefore, I have no opinion on or real interest in who holds the title of Pope. However, in response to the last line of the Facebook Post by a Friend:“…so what?”
My immediate thought was, ‘That’s not very nice… but this is still a country with freedom of speech. We are blessed with the ability form any opinion we chose and the freedom publicly express said opinion in just about any venue of our choosing.’ Therefore, the impetus to share this immediate thought was nothing more than an internal and fleeting annoyance. So, on I went with my day…
☥ First, I began with my usual habit of reading some motivational quote or meditation before I really get going…

Today’s Quote:

“I don’t like that man. I must get to know him better.” ~Abraham Lincoln

☥ Next, I replied to a text, from my friend of the Catholic faithconfirming plans to meet for coffee. Being who she is, I congratulated her on the election of the new Pope, ‘Pope Francis I’ (as of next Tuesday).
☥ Suddenly, I felt a little button pushed that I didn’t even know I had!
So… here comes the fallout after the ‘Push of The Button.’

On the Facebook Post by a Friend:

I’m sure you’ve gotten a barrage of back-fire from others already, since you posted those to little words: “…so what?”
Nevertheless, I would like to put my own ‘Comment’ on your ‘Post’ into context, by clarifying what I inferred from your  “…so what?”
To me, “…so what?” ≈  “…who cares?” ≈  “…what difference does it make?”
In taking liberty that my inference is correct, inspired by my friend’s active faith in Catholicism and the words of Abraham Lincoln….
I said, “So what? I must get to know him better.”
I know very little the Jesuits, other than witnessing the conduct/actions/deeds of one Jesuit Graduate, Dr. Joseph Signorile. In knowing him, I concluded one must need to be…
•a real smarty,
•very disciplined,
•extremely benevolent and
•full of Divine serenity
…to make it through a Jesuit school/seminary.
(Dr. Joseph Signorile was my professor for about 75% of my Ex-Phys. courses. I have gained a great respect and admiration for him, over the years of learning from him in both my Graduate and Undergraduate studies at the University of Miami.)

As to the new Pope, I got “to know him better.” These media tidbits caught my attention:

By choosing a name no pope had chosen before, he may be signaling an era of rebirth for a church troubled by corruption and a sexual abuse crisis.

Francis… the first Jesuit… the first man in the modern era from outside Europe to lead the Roman Catholic Church… known [to prize] compassion, humility and simplicity — so much that he gave up his chauffeur in Argentina and took the bus to work… would represent more of a break from the past than the image of yet another elderly man standing on the Vatican balcony.

His official biographer has said that Francis has both keen political instincts and self-effacing humility, and that he would encourage a kind of shoe-leather evangelism within the church. He is known to walk the streets of Buenos Aires to talk to the people:
“Jesus teaches us another way: Go out. Go out and share your testimony, go out and interact with your brothers, go out and share, go out and ask. Become the word in body as well as spirit.”
…he often hid people on church property during the regime years [in Argentina] and once gave his own identity papers to a man to help him get out of the country.
…“We have to avoid the spiritual sickness of a self-referential church,” the new pope said before the conclave. …“It’s true that when you get out into the street, as happens to every man and woman, there can be accidents. However, if the church remains closed in on itself, self-referential, it gets old. Between a church that suffers accidents in the street, and a church that’s sick because it’s self-referential, I have no doubts about preferring the former.”
[As Pope Francis,] he also expected to become the first pope in more than 600 years to meet his predecessor.

Just my ramblings…

no malice…

only the intention of sharing…

from The Source of Pure Love & Light Within!

EM HOTEP!

I cannot stay quiet: Part III (I keep clicking on “New Post.” Help!)

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The Seed:

Facebook exchange with Joanne Markarian:

Mandy posted on Roxanne Falco’s wall:

Too funny… I just found you are a mutual friend of Hippie Peace Freaks…which I just “Liked” via my mother’s cousin Joanne Markarian, who live thousands of miles away in Los Angeles, CA. BTW, she’s a rabid Democrat (LOL)! Your Mom, Gloria Falco would love her!
Small World…I love Facebook!
Blessings to you & Mom for the Holidays & Beyond!

Joanne posted on Mandy’s wall:

Hey there Mandy….just wanted to clarify….vociferous independent not a rabid dem…..lol

Mandy commented on Joanne’s post, but it turned into a full blown blog post:

Thanks, for clarifying that. (I really was just trying “poke” you to see if you were following me on FB. LOL!)  Roxanne and Gloria Falco are both members at one of our fitness centers (they happen to be originally from Easton, PA).  Adrian Suarez is always arguing politics with them. All in good fun.

Anyway…

The Epiphany:

I sure am learning a lot these days. I think I am realizing is that what I really am is more Libertarian than Republican anyway. I find myself conflicted, though. History has shown us again and again, that when “social liberties” are afforded (by “vociferous independents”) without bound, the demise of such a culture has begun. By the time it’s citizens turn around and say, “Hey, things seem to be getting a little out of control here. Something has to be done.” It’s already too late. Collapse is immanent. (BTW, when a culture does reach this point, the majority invariably refuses to believe it. They cannot see the forest for the trees.)

I am going to run with Freedom of Religion on this one:

Sure, you and I have strong spiritual beliefs, values and morals; and I would like to believe that the majority of humans do too. It seems that the problem begins when we start drawing lines in the sand about what is right and wrong. Where does it end? Furthermore, who (besides one’s own God or conscience) decides where that end is?

I think freedom of religion awesome, but as a “culture”—which is precisely what I see slipping away in America: CULTURE—we have to agree to be unified on certain CULTURAL issues. This would require each of us to compromise (or tolerate) something less than what equates to each of our own personal ideals.

I am insanely blessed to enjoy the freedom of my own personal sprawling, eclectic, unnamable form of worship. I also have deep pride and respect for the fundamental Judeo-Christian principles our country, as well as for The Bible, which is our handbook.

I do not identify myself as a Christian, per say. However I do not want to ban Christmas Trees or Nativity Scenes from being displayed downtown. I do not want to take down The Ten Commandments from The Supreme Court. I do not want to eliminate a child’s RIGHT TO PRAY in a public school, and I do not want to force a child to pray when they exercise their RIGHT TO ABSTAIN.

All of these things are a part of MY American CULTURE. Every enduring culture in history has had some degree of integration of “church and state.” (Note the use of the word integration, not occupation.) As a citizens of the United States of America, it is one of our civic duties to ACCEPT Judeo-Christian principles as the supporting STRUCTURE for this great country, without having to call one’s-self a Christian! Then, we can go wherever we want to worship however we please…or not at all! Better yet, if we’re still not happy… WE CAN LEAVE!

Personally, I am currently a proud member of Unity, Unity on the Bay, and Fellowship of Isis. (Thank Goddess!) Not to mention NA, AA, and sometimes OA.  LOL!

I’ve got the news on in the background, as I write this. Today is the third day of continuing coverage on the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School in New Town, Connecticut. Joe Lieberman is talking about how we need to form National Commission on Mass Violence (Yay! Let’s all go wipe our asses with some more tax-payer dollars!), and it sounds like Dick Durbin wants to overturn the Second Amendment (I guess it’s time for me to close this rant, before they ban my blog too.).
Footnote: Adrian tried to post a few opinionated words on Facebook yesterday and he couldn’t. The page kept kicking back to refresh, every time. He finally rearranged a sentence or two and the post was accepted.

Hmmm…

The day the majority repeals…

The First Amendment will surely be that of my

Last Words.

My Favorite Picks for The Golden Rule:

Ancient Egyptian: “Do for one who may do for you, that you may cause him thus to do.”
Yoruba: “One going to take a pointed stick to pinch a baby bird should first try it on himself to feel how it hurts.”
Wicca: “An it harm no one, do what thou wilt”
Zoroastrianism: “Whatever is disagreeable to yourself do not do unto others.”

http://hipstermonk.com/the-golden-rule-a-list-of-two-dozen-versions/

The Miraculous Power Prayer & God’s Angelic Servants

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The Miraculous Power Prayer & God’s Angelic Servants

The Seed:

Facebook post by Jean Sheldon:

“I am asking everyone to say a prayer for “Darkhorse” 3rd Battalion 5th Marines and their families. They are fighting it out in Afghanistan & they have lost many in 4 days. IT WOULD BE NICE TO SEE the message spread if more could pass it on.
Nothing in the media about these guys because no one seems to care:
Justin Allen, 23, Brett Linley, 29, Matthew Weikert, 29, Justus Bartett, 27,
Dave Santos, 21, Chase Stanley, 21, Jesse Reed, 26, Matthew Johnson, 21,
Zachary Fisher, 24, Brandon King, 23, Christopher Goeke, 23, Sheldon Tate, 27.
All are American soldiers that gave their lives for YOU this week.

Please Honor them by re-posting this.”

The Epiphany: 

For sharing convenience content has been posted as JPG images, immediately followed by full text.

READ THIS TOO!!!

WHETHER OR NOT YOU KNOW OF ARCHANGEL MICHAEL’S POWER…

PLEASE READ THIS HAIR RAISING STORY

…Even if you have never prayed in your life, just call on him.

HE WILL come to your aid and PROTECT YOU WITH HIS POWER!

A Prayer for “Darkhorse” 3rd Battalion 5th Marines

O Glorious Prince, St. Michael the Archangel, 

Defend us in battle 

And in the fearful warfare that we are waging 

Against the principalities and powers, 

Against the rulers of this world of darkness, 

Against Evil.

 

Archangel Michael,

Come to the assistance of your Human Soldiers, 

Incarnate Souls manifested by The Supreme Creator, 

formed through The Divine Energy that is Immanent in All Beings.

 

Archangel Michael,

Fight these days the battle of The Lord with The Legions of Holy Angels, 

even as the time you fought against

The Original Challenger of The Divine, known by many names:

Abaddon, Apollyon, Deceiver, Leviathan, Lucifer, Satan, Thief, Wicked One, 

Leader of The Proud Spirits and All The Rebel Angels. 

They are powerless to stand against you! 

No more is their place found in your presence!

 

 Transformed by darkness, The Original Challenger of The Divine

continues to creep about in the realm of humankind.

Still guised as an angel of light, he has regained his confidence,

and together with his multitude of wicked followers, he moves across the land,

attempting to invade our hearts and shatter our connection to The Divine Creator.

 

In The Name of The Supreme, 

And In The Name of The Christ,

Make haste, therefore, Archangel Michael, Invincible Prince. 

Bring victory to us—who are connected to Supreme Spirit—over these crafty enemies of humankind.

 

For we are protected by that which our enemies cannot know:

The Giver of Life,

Divine Love—Perfect Peace—Eternal Bliss,

The Infinite, The Omnipresent, The Intellect in Action, The Manifesting Power,

The Pure Consciousness,

The Great Experience,

The Profound State of Ecstasy,

The Supreme Universal Spirit.

 

As humble servants and faithful soldiers,

We acknowledge and seek these aspects, this presence, and its guidance in our lives at all times.

 

Archangel Michael, GRANT US VICTORY!

 

In gratitude,

Amen. 

The Indulgence of Leo XIII, 25 September 1888: A Modern Rewriting, by Amanda Sheldon 21 September 2012

READ THIS TOO!!!

WHETHER OR NOT YOU KNOW OF ARCHANGEL MICHAEL’S POWER… PLEASE READ THIS HAIR RAISING STORY

…Even if you have never prayed in your life, just call on him.

HE WILL come to your aid and PROTECT YOU WITH HIS POWER!

A Letter from Michael.
There’s a story about a young Marine named Michael who wrote a letter home to his mother while he was in the hospital after having been wounded in Korea in 1950.  A Navy Chaplain named Father Walter Muldy apparently was given the letter, checked the facts and concluded what was in the letter was true. A year later he read the letter in public for the first time, to a gathering of some 5,000 Marines at the Naval Base in San Diego.

Dear Mom,

I wouldn’t dare write this letter to anyone but you because no one else would believe it. Maybe even you will find it hard but I have got to tell somebody. First off, I am in a hospital. Now don’t worry, ya hear me, don’t worry. I was wounded but I’m okay you understand. Okay. The doctor says that I will be up and around in a month.

But that’s not what I want to tell you.

Remember when I joined the Marines last year; remember when I left, how you told me to say a prayer to St. Michael every day. You really didn’t have to tell me that. Ever since I can remember you always told me to pray to St. Michael the Archangel. You even named me after him. Well I always have.

When I got to Korea, I prayed even harder. Remember the prayer that you taught me? “Michael, Michael of the morning, fresh chord of Heaven adorning,” you know the rest of it. Well I said it everyday. Sometimes when I was marching or sometimes resting. But always before I went to sleep. I even got some of the other fellas to say it.

Well, one day I was with an advance detail way up over the front lines. We were scouting for the Commies. I was plodding along in the bitter cold, my breath was like cigar smoke.

I thought I knew every guy in the patrol, when along side of me comes another Marine I never met before. He was bigger than any other Marine I’d ever seen. He must have been 6’4″ and built in proportion. It gave me a feeling of security to have such a body near.

Anyway, there we were trudging along. The rest of the patrol spread out. Just to start conversation I said, “Cold ain’t it.” And then I laughed. Here I was with a good chance of getting killed any minute and I am talking about the weather.

My companion seemed to understand. I heard him laugh softly. I looked at him, “I have never seen you before, I thought I knew every man in the outfit.”

“I just joined at the last minute”, he replied. “The name is Michael.”

“Is that so,” I said surprised. “That is my name too.”

“I know,” he said and then went on, “Michael, Michael of the morning …”

I was too amazed to say anything for a minute. How did he know my name, and a prayer that you had taught me? Then I smiled to myself, every guy in the outfit knew about me. Hadn’t I taught the prayer to anybody who would listen. Why now and then, they even referred to me as St. Michael. Neither of us spoke for a time and then he broke the silence.

“We are going to have some trouble up ahead.”

He must have been in fine physical shape or he was breathing so lightly I couldn’t see his breath. Mine poured out in great clouds. There was no smile on his face now. Trouble ahead, I thought to myself, well with the Commies all around us, that is no great revelation. Snow began to fall in great thick globs. In a brief moment the whole countryside was blotted out. And I was marching in a white fog of sticky particles. My companion disappeared.

“Michael,” I shouted in sudden alarm.

I felt his hand on my arm, his voice was rich and strong, “This will stop shortly.”

His prophecy proved to be correct. In a few minutes the snow stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The sun was a hard shining disc. I looked back for the rest of the patrol, there was no one in sight. We lost them in that heavy fall of snow. I looked ahead as we came over a little rise.

Mom, my heart stopped. There were seven of them. Seven Commies in their padded pants and jackets and their funny hats. Only there wasn’t anything funny about them now. Seven rifles were aimed at us.

“Down Michael,” I screamed and hit the frozen earth.

I heard those rifles fire almost as one. I heard the bullets. There was Michael still standing. Mom, those guys couldn’t have missed, not at that range. I expected to see him literally blown to bits. But there he stood, making no effort to fire himself. He was paralyzed with fear. It happens sometimes, Mom, even to the bravest. He was like a bird fascinated by a snake. At least, that was what I thought then. I jumped up to pull him down and that was when I got mine I felt a sudden flame in my chest. I often wondered what it felt like to be hit, now I know..

I remember feeling strong arms around me, arms that laid me ever so gently on a pillow of snow. I opened my eyes, for one last look. I was dying. Maybe I was even dead, I remember thinking well, this is not so bad. Maybe I was looking into the sun. Maybe I was in shock. But it seemed I saw Michael standing erect again only this time his face was shining with a terrible splendor. As I say, maybe it was the sun in my eyes, but he seemed to change as I watched him. He grew bigger, his arms stretched out wide, maybe it was the snow falling again, but there was a brightness around him like the wings of an angel. In his hands was a sword. A sword that flashed with a million lights. Well, that is the last thing I remember until the rest of the fellas came up and found me. I do not know how much time had passed. Now and then I had but a moment’s rest from the pain and fever. I remember telling them of the enemy just ahead.

“Where is Michael,” I asked.

I saw them look at one another. “Where’s who?” asked one.

“Michael, Michael the big Marine I was walking with just before the snow squall hit us.”

“Kid,” said the sergeant, “You weren’t walking with anyone. I had my eyes on you the whole time. You were getting too far out. I was just going to call you in when you disappeared in the snow.”

He looked at me, curiously. “How did you do it kid?”

“How’d I do what?” I asked half angry despite my wound. “This marine named Michael and I were just …”

“Son,” said the sergeant kindly, ” I picked out this outfit myself and there just ain’t another Michael in it. You are the only Mike in it.”

He paused for a minute, “Just how did you do it kid? We heard shots. There hasn’t been a shot fired from your rifle. And there isn’t a bit of lead in them seven bodies over the hill there.”

I didn’t say anything, what could I say. I could only look open-mouthed with amazement.

It was then the sergeant spoke again, “Kid,” he said gently,

“every one of those seven Commies was killed by a sword stroke.”

That is all I can tell you Mom.

As I say, it may have been the sun in my eyes, it may have been the cold or the pain, but that is what happened.

Love,

Michael

The prayer which Marine soldier named Michael’s said every morning, remained a mystery until an a saintly elderly priest, Fr. Joseph Reitz, was found:

Michael, Michael, of the morning,
Fresh chord of Heaven adorning,
Keep me safe today
And in time of temptation,
Drive the devil away.
 

REPOSTED FROM:

A Letter from Michael     http://www.tldm.org/News10/MarineNamedMichael.htm

Good Ol’ Fido (May he rest in peace.)

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The Seed:

My mother said to me:

“I remember how you have stressed the importance of having spiritual practice in your life. It has become my lifeline.”

The Epiphany:

All it takes is a couple of days of neglecting “my spiritual practice,” and I become subtly & progressively nuttier, until I say, “What the hell is wrong with me?”

Then I realize that I haven’t stopped to acknowledge the grace and blessings of my Higher-Power, and my gratitude for it. If I catch myself in time, all I have to do is go back to the basics & keep it simple. The cool thing is, the more I keep working at making “my spiritual practice” a daily habit, I am able to recognize the symptoms of spiritual famine more quickly & easily. Wait too long though, and I become like my good ol’ dog Fido (Basset Hound*):

Nose to the ground, locked on to a scent, going and going, consumed in the scent. When the scent trail ends, I stop and look around, as if waking from a dream. But alas, it is too late. I don’t know where I am or how I got there. I am lost. My only hope is my Dog Tag (…Holy Spirit?), and that someone will Stop to read it (…reconnect me to The Source? …be The Good Samaritan? …e.g. something someone says. something I read), and help me find my way back home.

Yes. Somehow, someway, sooner or later, I always do.

The following is a true story: Adrian’s father, Pedro, was dog-sitting our Fido while we went to visit my family in PA. Maybe Fido, bewildered in this new and unfamiliar surrounding was trying to find his way home, or maybe he just picked up the scent of something interesting. Either way, he somehow managed to slip out through the fence surrounding Pedro’s property.

When we returned from our trip and learned of Fido’s disappearance, I was heart broken. They say the last thing we let go of is hope (I like to call it FAITH). So with that last bit that I was hanging on to, I posted Fido’s picture and an offer of a small $100 reward all around the neighborhood. (Though no amount of dollars could ever measure the value of the gentle joyful heart of Fido, it was the very most we had at that time.) Days turned into weeks, and then the phone rang. Fido was returned to us, and all was right in the world again.

Unbelievably, surrounding this true story lies anther, larger one, perhaps even more amazing, of which I am now reminded: “Daphne.” I’ll think I’ll save it to post another day.

*The ACK cautions: “New [Basset Hound] owners should be prepared for a dog that actively follows scent while outside or on walks.” http://www.akc.org/breeds/basset_hound/