I love this story. It never fails to warm my heart.
I’ve entered Landscape Dreams Photo Contest and I would appreciate your vote.
If you like my either of my entries, please do me the honor of voting for it. Clicking on the picture and sign in. When the link takes you there, it asks you to log in-you say yes-then it asks if you want to do it though facebook-yes to that-then it gives you an app for facebook-you just hit cancel on that and then -finally you get to input your login for facebook and get to the picture- there is a tab that says “vote for this entry”-, hit that and then it should work and of course the number of votes go up by 1vote by hitting the VOTE button:
You might like to vote for my sister, Bernadette Buechler’s entry: Sunset Tapestry Over White Sands
When we step on an ant,
An ant smaller than a fetus,
We acknowledge killing an ant.
We may not fret about it,
After-all, it’s an ant!
We have the right
To kill an ant.
When a mother, a doctor,
A nurse, a bio-scientist,
Or technician trained in the art,
When a society and a nation,
Curtails the life of a fetus,
All deny killing a human person.
“It’s too small to matter”,
Do we really believe,
We are doing good?
Do we care beyond
Convenience and profit,
Are we in the right?
Do we have the right?
How big does Truth have to be?
©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved
I left You long ago,
To wander in a world of choices,
Bombarded by alluring voices.
I left at home
All cords that bound,
Proudly casting off all staked to holy ground.
I soared mounting the wind,
On Icharus’ wings waxed proud,
Till sun and heat spoke Truth aloud.
I left You long ago.
Now in swift descent I fall,
Humbled, hoping to be caught by Lord of All.
RAnn of This, That and the Other Thing graciously hosts Sunday Snippets — A Catholic Carnival giving Catholic bloggers a chance to share their favorites posts with one another. Join the fun, and leave a comment , won’t you? This week my contribution is my efforts at chinese brush painting of Colorado mountains and waterfalls:
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Lent means that spring is just around the corner. Looking at my garden, it was obvious that it was in need of some serious tender loving care. All I had the energy for was to uproot a few of the hundreds of weeds, but I did begin. Immediately, a thought interrupted my picking. “Many souls are dead and don’t even know it.” Surprised by the seriousness of the pronouncement, I turned to the Lord, “Why is that, Lord?”
“Look at the weeds you’re uprooting; they look healthy and well, don’t they? Yet, you know they’re counterfeits; you root them up. Many people no longer know what’s good for them. They opened their soil to the world and allowed the world to decide what grew in them; no questions asked!
Empty places invite weeds. Weeds take the place of authentic, productive life. Soon they choke out the good by sheer numbers and their greedy appetites. Weeds look pretty good for a while. It isn’t until you miss the flowers and the fruit, that you notice something has gone awry. In life, people are like gardens. Some are dying but still look good. Sin like weeds is deceptive. People are kept busy and entertained by counterfeit life. Yet they are loosing ground to the world. They are losing the reward of their time and effort. Their work and play have no eternal end, just transitory vigor and flash. It’s really death wrapped in greenery.
This morning I weeded my entire garden. I also went to confession.
I tend to see Christ and Our Lady all around me:
Once I saw his name “Jesus” spelled out in the shadows on the ground in front of me as the sun shown through the leaves of my shefflera. My husband who doubted me, soon found himself tracing out the letters with his foot.
This past summer, I set up a tent behind my trailer. It had mesh, see-through, sides. The next day, a man from the next campsite came over to tell me that his whole family saw Our Lady of Guadalupe but her image was only visible through the sides of my tent. I checked it out that evening and sure enough, I could see her too.
All this to say I understand when the Anchoress declares Advent Pictures of Christ amid the snowflakes. In an absolutely stirring post, she says, “When I first saw these pictures, all I could think of was: Look! Pictures of Christ! Pictures of perfection, they remind us of the joyful Antiphon for a Monday’s vespers: ‘yours is more than mortal beauty; every word you speak is full of grace.’ “
Here’s a treat for animal lovers.
HotAir says it’s awesome computers self-discovering the laws of physics. Since I can’t remember the laws of physics let alone discover them, I take comfort in knowing the computer had to be built and programmed, fed some goals and parameters by a human thingie. It’s definitely intriguing, though. Yea, Computer!
However, I was relieved to read:
“In the end, we still need a scientist to look at this and say, this is interesting,” said Lipson.
Humans are, in other words, still important.
So, if Alma is for you, check it out!
Getting to Nebraska, we passed a lot of dry, brown land. Colorful Colorado was a grayish tan. But here and there bright green fields told you things were ready to burst out at the first fall of rain.
On the surface things can look bleak. Beneath the surface, they are ready to pop. What I have to keep reminding myself is that life is thriving on planet Earth. God is in His heaven and that makes all the difference. Somewhere the bountiful and beautiful is happening, maybe not here, perhaps in distant, hidden places, but it’s happening and its abundant! While, there are dry spells, and dormant periods with things that go wrong, other things are so very right.
Change, for all my discomfort, is as ordinary as air. I know that if it’s happening, at very least, God is permitting it. He always has a plan and I don’t understand simply because He hasn’t run it past me. That does make even the present dilemma a work in progress – mysterious design and all that.
In the world or in the Church, it all hangs together. We are waiting for rain. John Paul II spoke of a Springtime for the Church and I believe that now, in this very dark hour, we are actually living it. Beneath the materialism and relativism and all those other ism’s, is a harvest in the making. It waits, perhaps, on laborers and a rain of prayer, but it none-the- less is hanging fire.
I find my Springtime in my prayer. Whether my experience of prayer is dry or consoling, doesn’t matter, anymore. I am praying. Day by day, I’m just doing it…. and I’m not alone in this. Whoever is waiting on change can actually move the hands of God in His heaven, turning the dreary grey of their waiting, into a poppin’ Springtime.
For me, it’s hidden but it’s happening. For each of us, it’s a “Just do it!” thing, hanging on a decision. What you don’t see, none-the-less, is building beneath the surface of our day to day. Days past, present and to come, days for forgiving, repenting, and imploring; all prayer, all the time. Springtime will come without me, but don’t want to miss it. I want to run through the fields and feel it in my soul.
Isaiah speaks the words I need to hear this morning.
Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her service is at an end, her guilt is expiated; Indeed, she has received from the hand of the Lord double for all her sins. Isaiah 40: 1
The day is new and as they say” hope springs eternal.” The world has definitely been heavy on my mind. I need to turn the page if only at the beginning of this day.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast:
Man never is, but always to be blest:
The soul, uneasy and confin’d from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come. (Alexander Pope – An Essay on Man)
This is a gift to myself today. It speaks to the heart of love and memory that even crosses the line between Man and Beast.
Have a wonderful day!
What a man will do for a little love.
Just stepping up and doing the right thing.