keep it down to a dull roar!

I am blessed to be at home today, and alone for a few hours. I am sitting here doing this because I have sixty-four  (or was it seventy eight?)  things to do before my daughter and her family arrive here Sunday for a short but much looked forward to Thanksgiving visit. Rest assured that the blog following that will be loaded with pictures.

But before that happens.........(drum roll).............I am finally going to start receiving spiritual direction again! It's been since Father Terry was still with us. Wow. And along with that, a bit of an overdue confession. (since Father Check left us, but in a different way.) Yes, I know we are not supposed to have favorites when it comes to confession, but..really now...fess up, you know we all do. It wasn't the only reason I haven't gone, but it was a pretty big part. So today I was sitting before the Blessed Sacrament, doing some preparation for the confession, and realized a couple things. One is that it has been six months since I have gone. That's the longest stretch since I have been Catholic. another is that it is significantly harder to examine a six month conscience. Oh, yes, of course I have been "keeping track", but it's the nuances that escape me after a certain period of time goes by.  That time period is pretty short. So after this, boy, every two weeks? Well at least once a month.

Something else became pretty clear, or unclear really. As I was praying and sitting quietly, the racket in my mind was just deafening! So to speak. If there could be silent decibels, these were on the hearing loss scale. If the Lord spoke to me, I sure didn't hear Him!  Think along the lines of a train passing two feet away. I am accustomed to my usual wandering mind, but this was something else. I even sat a little extra long (for me) to try and wait it out. No.








I am sure God did whatever work He wanted anyway. I have always found that if I take steps to progress in my spiritual life, I experience opposition. Hopefully, the step I am about to take will bear fruit.

                                                                             

hooray-I can post again! and tell you how I met my husband. or ~ providence~

Whew! it's good to be back. I had a pesky computer bug that wouldn't allow me to post to my blog all week. The nerve! But my dear husband found a fix, and Ta Da! Here I am.

 Well, while I am on the subject of the DH, I think I will tell you the story of how we met. 

You may remember that I was song leader for the charismatic prayer group during the period of my conversion. This group held a mass a couple times a year in one of the neighborhood churches--the one Bob went to, turns out. He functioned there as a sacristan at times, among many other things. Of all the things that come to mind, I will be as charitable as possible and just say that he was a great help and support to the priest that served there at that time. The prayer group masses were always on a Tuesday evening, and Bob attended a few so as to keep Father from having to come over and close up. (Father was not terribly "into" the charismatic arm of the church. -again-Understatement- but he did allow us to meet at the church, so many thanks to him). Apparently, Bob had attended a time or two when I was there functioning as cantor for the mass, and "just happened to be there" one Tuesday in February 2005, and approached me after mass to offer his services as pianist "if I was interested".All the quotations are a little elbow to the ribs to point out that he was, in fact, coming to these masses because of his interest in me, as WELL as to close up for Father. This was not apparent to me as I took his number, written on the back of a number for a crisis pregnancy center. I was kind of used to being approached by people, (okay, men), that said they played guitar (didn't I already play guitar?), who frankly, seemed a bit to odd to want to work with. Plus, I have experience with people who say that they sing or play...and then....um, no. But, Bob seemed quite genuine, didn't play the same instrument I did, and the thought of having a piano appealed to me. 
 
So on a Sunday night a couple weeks later, I dug his number out of my purse while on the way home from doing a kid pick up in Delaware. Melissa and I went back and forth about what we thought his last name was, so when I called, I just asked for Bob. Again, I wasn't aware of any other agenda than the music, so when I asked if he remembered who I was, he apparently had a moment. We decided to get together to run through some music and see how it went ( he still refers to this as his "audition") on March 3rd. Needless to say, it went well. Even on the little toy keyboard, I could tell he really did know how to play, and he was such a darn nice guy! 


And so the story goes--we had a lovely courtship, under the counsel of our favorite Augustinian priest-Father Terry-- Bob, crediting St. Augustine to his return to the Church, me, being a parishioner of Saint Monica Church--well, it all fit so nicely. We married on May 13th (first day of the appearances of our Lady at Fatima).  Our mentor and friend, Father Terry, died on October 13th. (the last of the Fatima appearances). We were his last wedding; we were told he had our wedding picture on his nightstand.

 I have been asked occasionally about our Augustinian devotion. I haven't researched the daylights out of it- but what I have learned about Saint Augustine, is that he was a thinker and a lover. To read his writings, one has to really dig in, it is not your average novelette. He is a Father and Doctor of the Church, and his writings shaped the Church's very foundations. But he was also filled to overflowing with the love of Christ, illustrated by his famous exclamation, "Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new." It was Father Terry's love that taught us more about Christ and the church than anything else. While waiting to confess, we would often hear laughter wafting out of Father Terry's station. His viewing at Villanova was attended by scores of Augustinian Friars, some of which shared funny and heartwarming memories. They were a joyful lot, all radiating that same peace and good humor we remember of Father Terry, despite all his illnesses and setbacks. So those are my thoughts on that.

 Bob and I are approaching our fifth wedding anniversary. My seven kids became his step kids and he has loved and cared for them valiantly through thick and thin. Mostly thick, I think. We love to play music, we are active in the pro life movement-with a group called Helpers of God's Precious Infants, which  incidentally, he was a member of for some years before I met him. (remember the crisis pregnancy card with his phone number?) We know that we are blessed, even through the struggles, with the many gifts the Lord had given us. We hope to continue to be faithful and grow in Him and serve Him well all the rest of our days.