A time of Visitation

By Caroline

The Good Shepherd, Ravenna Mausoleums (Wikimedia Commons)

Besides you know the time has come; the moment is here for you to stop sleeping and wake up,
because by now our salvation is nearer than when we first began to believe.
–Romans 13:11

Maybe it’s the season for angels. I don’t know.

I usually don’t have time to stop in the hospital chapel after my visits, but today was different. Today I sensed something in my spirit, something palpable, but hard to put in words; that still small voice gnawing at my soul, vying for my my attention, which for several hours had been preoccupied with the stories of God’s dear people. They, who are worn down with the afflictions of physical suffering are many times over my greatest teachers.

But today, I somehow knew I was not to pass up a visit to the chapel.

With each passing week, I’ve noticed in many patients another sort of fatigue has set in and it has nothing to do with their bodies..It’s as if through them, the Lord is trying to tell me something; they whose suffering leaves nothing to the imagination, yet whose smiles make room for me to sit– though their hospital gowns barely cover them– and nurses intrude on their tears as they bare to me the spiritual wounds of their heart. In almost every patient I’ve recently seen they are crying as if in imitation of Christ, not for themselves, but for us as a country and people who are turning away from the day of the Lord’s visitation.


Continue reading at Caroline's blog Bell of the Wanderer.

The man with the black fedora

 By Caroline

Cross in a Blizzard by Chelmonski
(Wikimedia Commons)

And Uncle Sal’s Donuts.

No, I haven’t lost it..not yet anyways. Actually, I was on my rosary walk when the enemy tempted me with my old foe…

fear

Down that spiral I started, asking the Lord how He planned on dealing with a few issues for which I can’t seem to see any resolution.
I got distracted in prayer and then quiet before the Lord when that still small voice broke into my silent anxiety.

Do you remember the man with the black fedora and Uncle Sal’s donuts?
Of course I remember, Lord.

Slowly, I recounted the adventure from long ago. It was a high school ski weekend with the local recreation center–before the days of Doppler radar and cell phones. My best friend Kate and I were were seated at the back of the old school bus without a care in the world talking about boys, the nuns, oblivious to how long the trip upstate would take. We’d done this together before, but we’d never had an adventure like the one we were about to have that weekend.


Continue reading at Caroline's blog Bell of the Wanderer.

God is your papa

By Barbara A. Schoeneberger

Digital oil painting by Barb from photo
by Michelle M. from freedigitalphotos.com

And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me: nevertheless not what I will, but what thou wilt. (Mark 14:36)

“Abba”, that beautiful Aramaic word spoken by a baby as his first word for “father”, has an equivalent in every language. In English it is “daddy”. In Korean it is “Appa”. In Italian, “babbino”, “papá”, “papino”. In all languages it expresses childlike innocence, trust, intimacy, and affection. In pre-Christian times “Abba” grew from solely a baby’s expression to mean “dear father”, an expression grown children would use to address their fathers.

When Jesus cried out these words during His agony in the garden, He spoke for all mankind, first as a Jew and secondly as a Gentile, as Mark wrote first the Aramaic word and then the Greek for “father”. Abba is for all of us. St. Paul reminds us of this in Romans 8:15:

For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by Him we cry, “Abba, Father

By this we know that Jesus means for all of us to have that same relationship with His Father that He does, the child with the strong and loving protector and provider who watches over us with the greatest of care. This is His will for us.


Continue reading at Barab's blog Suffering With Joy.