Come Holy Spirit Come

the earth was a formless wasteland, 

and darkness covered the abyss, 

while a mighty wind swept over the waters

Genesis 1:2

Today is Pentecost.  The day when we celebrate the descent of the Holy Spirit on the Apostles in the Upper Room and the birth of the Church in the world.  For me this day has an entirely different meaning as my faith matures.  

I have become a person of faith not because of God the Father or God the Son,  but because of God the Spirit.  I can relate to the vast wasteland living in darkness waiting for something to happen,  until the Spirit swept over me and moved me to a deeper understanding of myself and my relationship with God, the universe and everyone I encounter.  

Of course I have to admit here that I am moved by the Spirit within the structure of the Catholic Church,  it is where I find I can express my faith with complete authenticity.  I am fed by the Eucharist, and  refreshed by the Reconciliation,  and my marriage is a vocation lived out in sacramental holiness on a daily basis.  The more I learn about my church (as human and flawed as it can be at times)  the more I fall in love with the intimate connection it gives me to this Trinitarian, relational God who is One, yet Three, forever in motion in a Celestial dance and in whom I I move and breath and have my being.

The closer I move to this ineffable force that draws me deeper and deeper into a love relationship with my faith I am finding that as I am learning more and more Pneumatology (great big word that mean Spirit talk) The Spirit is the guiding force compelling me onward, or in the case of most spiritual journeys, inward.

The Spirit moves like a gentle breeze, or a mighty wind, and moves me where it wills.  As I learn to move with the Spirit the dance becomes easier.

So today is a day to remember the Spirit of God.

How does the Spirit move you?

Pax  

  

Easter Sunday Reflection: Rise!

Part of my Lent was spent in a very depressed state.  I was dealing with a lot;  multiple health issues, the death of my mother months ago and then the death of a very close friend on Ash Wednesday.  I was so deeply depressed that I was incapable of helping myself.

Most people who saw me outside of my house would have never known that there was a problem, because for a short amount of time I could put on a happy face and do what needed to be done, but those moments took so much energy that when I was home I was usually sleeping or laying on the couch incapable of doing much of anything.

I thank my husband and children for pitching in around the house, because without their help it would have been really bad around here.  But I realized that I couldn't help myself, and asked for help, not only from God, but from my Dr.

I have been on anti-depressants and a new diet for a month now, and while I am not completely back to my old self, I can certainly tell the difference.   When I told Fr. Bill last night after the Vigil Mass how much better I was feeling he gave me a huge hug and said. "She has risen!"

I had never thought about it that way, but I see now.  I have risen from the depth of my despair and and can see that my life has joy and meaning and purpose again.   Like Christ rising from the dark tomb;  I am rising to new life.  My resurrection may be a much slower process than His, but no less miraculous.

Where is resurrection happening in your life?

Pax

The Mrs. Obvious Question of the Week: Why is Lent so Hard?

I have had four friends say in the past week that this Lent has been very hard for them.  I have resisted the urge to say; "Well, duh!"

If fasting, and sacrifice were easy would it bring us closer to God?  If we didn't struggle with our devotion and stumble in our attempts to maintain our goals for Lent would we be as likely to see how much we need the Supreme Sacrifice that Christ makes for us on Good Friday?

In a way, the more we struggle during Lent, the happier we should be.  Each time we stumble, each time another of our human failings is uncovered for us in the light of Truth we are drawn closer and closer to the source of our strength.  In our weakness God makes us strong.   Unless we know where our weak points are how can we ever gain the strength we need to grow stronger from them.

How blessed we are that the Church gives us this time to work through our failings.  As we meditate on the way of the Cross we should think about the fact that among the fourteen moments memorialized are three times that Jesus fell, carrying His cross.  If Jesus fell, and had the strength to get back up and continue to carry His cross, then we can pick ourselves up after we fall and get a stronger hold on our chosen cross and begin to move forward too.  We are blessed that we know the end of the story.  We know that our journey will not end on the Cross, but with the Resurrection of Easter and new life won for us by Christ.

So, Lent is hard,  and that should make us happy rather than grumpy, because if it is hard then we are doing it right.

Happy Lent People,

Pax

My Thoughts on Recent Events in My Life

 I haven't written a blog post in a month. In that month a lot has happened.  On August 23rd, my mother slipped from her earthly prison and went to be with dad forever.  I am still trying to fathom all of the subtleties of what it means that I have become an orphan.   It helps to think that mom and dad are together again, both here and in heaven: their earthly remains are united forever in a shared grave with one headstone -- mom's info will be Carved on the back with the phrase: Loving parents together forever.

We also began the tedious job of repainting the inside of our house,something we hadn't done since we moved here in 1997. I know my limitations, so we have someone else doing the actual painting. I just get to choose the colors. Mranglmeg is a bit scared though, because all those white walls are disappearing under a much more vibrant color palate. In the cans he just shakes his head, but once the color goes up on the wall he begins to see my vision or at least is resigned to let me choose because it just doesn't matter to him.

My new career as a spiritual director is beginning to gain ground. I have been seeing new prospective directees and growing my "client base" by leaps in the past month. With each new contact I am humbled at the special place my work takes me in people's lives.  I hope that I can always remember that it is the Holy Spirit that is the true director, and I am in the sacred position of being the eyes and ears and voice to help those who come to me see how The Spirit is moving in their lives.

I haven't had much time for writing, considering the month I have had, but I do have ideas for two new projects I want to start as soon as I get some other things off of my "clipboard of fun.  One is directly related to losing my mother, and a statement that a dear friend from my Spiritual Direction Internship made that five of us from this class had all lost our mothers this calendar year.

I also haven't had much time to knit, and I have a few projects backed up.  I think I need to set aside some time to knit each day because knitting keeps me grounded and helps me clear my mind.  It is such a spiritual practice for me.  Going without it is like going without my evening prayers.

I am taking a much needed trip to St. Meinrad weekend after next for a short mini-retreat.  I just want to get away and lose myself on "The Holy Hill" and find my center again.  Maybe I will even get to run into a few friends as well.

Hopefully, now that things are a bit back to normal I will be able to blog on a slightly more regular basis.

Pax

Breaking Through

I had to write a paper for my Theology of the Trinity class that I took at St. Meinrad this semester. I was really worried about it because I have had writer's block since early last fall (as you can tell from my relative silence on my blog). I really wondered if I was going to be able to come up with anything of substance to say and tried three or four times to start an essay.

As last week moved along I really wondered if I was going to come up with anything. Then on Thursday morning I got an inspiration and sat down at my computer and came up with an introductory paragraph that actually sounded pretty good. After that, I began to put the threads in place, and I began to see a pattern emerging. As each strand of thought wove through the narrative, the piece became stronger. All the elements began to tie together in a way that had flow and resonance.

When I looked it over and moved a few paragraphs around and read through it in the finished form it actually gave me that fluttery, goose bumps feeling that I used to get when I wrote a good essay. That sort of feeling that comes from a place of awe as you read and think " did that actually come from me?" For the first time since last August I had written something I was really proud of having produced.

Anyway, I just wanted to share my joy with all of you. Hopefully, now that my writer's block is over I will be writing more on here than the short pieces I have been sporadically adding in the last few months. I am going to submit the essay I wrote for my Trinity class to Presence, the Spiritual Director's Journal and see if they will publish it. (yep, I really think it is that good.) If they do, I will post it here for you all to read.

Stay tuned, I will be writing more in the weeks to come. I have my passion for writing back.

Pax

Not So Radical Obedience

I learned something really interesting about obedience in the last few weeks. It isn't enough to simply be obedient to the will of God if you are doing so grudgingly and letting everyone know how burdensome doing God's will is for you. This kind of obedience isn't true obedience. That kind of obedience never really leads to true peace.

If you grudgingly offer to do God's will. then let everyone know just how burdensome that effort is for you your submission to the will of God borders on back patting and vainglory.

God wants us to surrender, but God wants that surrender to be willing, self giving surrender. We have to make the decision, after looking at whatever situation we are faced with, and decide for ourselves that God's plan is right and follow it willingly, peacefully and humbly. Any other submission on our part really isn't true submission, but to some extent is a way to hold back some control on our part. In a way we are saying "I'll do this, but I won't like it." or "I'll go along with your plan but it is never going to work out." Either of these responses will in some respect have to have a negative effect on the outcome of our submission. At least that is what I have found in my own life.

True obedience takes a few steps: First I have to admit that God has a plan for my life; and whether I like it or not, God's plan may not look at all like the plan I have made for my future.

Next, I have to admit that no matter how much I want my life to work out the way I had it planned, even if what I am planning to do is something that I think might come to a good end or be good in the long run, to stick with my plan would be a form of disobedience to God's will.

I need to be willing to admit that God's plan is the one that I should follow, and follow it willingly, meekly and at least without grumbling to everyone who will listen ( and some who don't even care to listen) that I am grudgingly doing God's will, patting myself on the back the entire time.

When I follow these steps in my life, the obedience doesn't get easier, but the humility makes for a greater sense of peace. I begin to see that maybe God's plan makes sense. Maybe there is a way ahead of me that I couldn't even see because I was so determined to make my life work out exactly as I had it planned. At the same time it no longer matters to me what the world thinks about how my life looks, or how successful I may seem in the eyes of the world, because I know that I am doing God's will, and that is enough for me.

When we surrender to God's will, get that sense of peace that surpasses all understanding, then we can move into areas where we might not have gone on our own. We are more willing to allow God's plan to unfold before us and show us a way to live that is radically dependant upon God, and totally free at the same time.

What a concept.

Pax

The Myth of Independence

Today is the 4th of July. This is the day we celebrate our Independence as a Nation. The problem is, true Independence is a myth. We are all dependent upon others for everything unless we live in the woods and grow all our own foods and live on wind power.

Even then we have a need for community. There are very few of us who are called to be true hermits.

And now we have proof that even the "self help" programs that have been all the rage since the sixties don't really help. We all need somebody else.

It makes sense theologically. We were created by a Trinitarian God eternally in relationship: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. In the beginning we were created man and woman together as equals and helpmates.

Even when you look at this day we are celebrating we did not achieve Independence alone, we had help from France, Spain and the Dutch Republic.

We are interdependent upon each other, and totally dependent upon God. These are the truths we are actually celebrating on this day. That is why we gather with family and friends to celebrate. In most Catholic churches we have prayers for the country today because we know that our country needs God's protection and loving care.

Happy 4th of July everyone. Happy Interdependence day.

Pax

Father's Day with tears

It was an innocent statement . . .

Maggie, share with everyone why your dad is so great!

that showed up in my Facebook notifications this morning, but it set me on a downward spiral toward near despair. My dad was great . . . when I was a little kid he was my entire world, but he has been gone for 35 years. This is another year I won't get to celebrate Father's Day by picking out some silly card, or buying him some hideous tie, or just spending time with him.

Mrangelmeg has made plans to play golf with his dad this father's day. My children have plans for mrangelmeg (but knowing that he reads this blog I will leave it at that). I can only sit with my memories. That is what brings me to near despair.

The only thing that keeps me from rocketing over that precipice into total blackness is the fact that I have another Father, one that by the mystery of the relational nature of the Blessed Trinity makes Him eternally in the role of Father. Not only is God constantly breathing me into existence; but He is at each moment lovingly bestowing on me all of thewarmth, joy. courage and strength that my earthly father did in the short time that I had with him. God's love surrounds me like a blanket, or like my earthly father's arms did when I used to cuddle safely in his lap as a child.

And if God loves me this much, then so must he have (and does) loved my earthly father. That promise of Eternal Fathering must have been granted to my dad. When dad's time down here was through, our Eternal Father drew him up to be with Him, a place where there is no more pain or suffering. A place where my dad found peace. A place where some day I will be united with him again.

So, I can draw back from that precipice and be reminded of two things: I have an Eternal Father who will always be with me; and because of that Father's promise one day I will be reunited with my dad, and I will be able to curl up in his lap again and there I will find rest.

Probably Why Reading Newman Isn't for Me

an excerpt from Sacrament of the Present Moment:


God's order and his divine will, humbly obeyed by the faithful, accomplishes this divine purpose in them without their knowledge, in the same way as medicine obediently swallowed cures invalids who neither know nor care how. Just as it is fire and not the philosophy or science of that element and its effects that heats, so it is God's order and his will which sanctify and not curious speculations and its origin or purpose.

To quench thirst it is necessary to drink. Reading books about it only makes it worse. Thus when we long for sanctity speculation only drives it further from our grasp. We must humbly accept what God's order requires us to do and suffer. What he ordains for us each moment is what is most holy, best and most Divine for us.

If the divine will ordains that reading is the duty to the present moment, reading achieves that mysterious purpose. If the divine will abandons reading for an act of contemplation, that duty will bring about a change of heart and then reading will be harmful and useless.



I am just saying, it may be that God has ordained that reading Newman might be harmful and useless for me and I should abandon it for a more useful pursuit, like hours of silent wordless contemplation, or even going to Confession.

Pax

A Picture of Solitude

Do you have a sanctuary? A place where you find rest? Is it a physical place or a mental place? For me, no matter where I am I have such a place.

When I was growing up we lived just across the street from a really great old estate that was like our private playground. It had been deeded to the city as a public park. The house and gardens at the top of the hill were used as meeting space and for events; but the property leading up to the house was left pretty much undeveloped.

That part of the property includes the brick paved carriage path that begins just across the street from my old house and winds through the woods ending at the mansion and carriage house at the top of the hill. In the middle of the woods there is a small bridge over a ravine where the rainwater would runoff during heavy rains storms. This bridge is my sanctuary. When I was growing up I used to spend a lot of time there playing, reading, sometimes just sitting and thinking.

No matter where I am now, I can seek sanctuary by remembering back to that bridge. The picture in this post is a photograph of a painting of that exact bridge . It was painted by my childhood friend Mark. The painting looks exactly like the bridge of my memory. When I mentioned on his blog that that bridge was my mental sanctuary he offered to send me the painting. He posted the picture to his facebook page so that I could get a preview of what he was sending me.

I am so excited even to think about where I might hang this painting in my house. Now I will have a visual image of a place that I so love. Words can't express how happy this makes me.

Life is so good.

Pax

Transitions

Today was the end of my first year of Spiritual Direction Internship. I went into this year thinking that maybe I had the charism needed to do this type of work and this first year has been a steady affirmation of that in my head and in my heart.

I have learned so much about spirituality that I just didn't know before, and then this last few months I have been immersed in a world of the mystics that have brought into focus a lot of my personal journey of faith over the past ten years or so. It is as though now I see clearly what I only understood in a very superficial way when it was actually happening to me.

Which just leads me to believe that I was meant to go through this internship at this point in time, regardless if I ever spend one moment as a spiritual director myself, so that I could process what has been happening in my own spiritual life.

That would be completely enough, but to be honest, I am excited about the two directees that I will be meeting beginning next month. The thought of using the knowledge I have gained to help someone else navigate their own spiritual journey makes the spirit well up within me and at the same time brings on a sense of great humility. That I will be allowed privy to someone else's journey toward the heart of God is so humbling.

I know I am ready for this, I have been trained well. I just need to stop my knees from knocking together so that I will be able to hear the directee's story as it is being told. The Holy Spirit will do the rest.

Pax

Temple Census

We have entered Mardi Gras weekend. . . that last little bit of Ordinary time just before Ash Wednesday. Why is it that every year I get the sense that I should indulge to my hearts content in these days? I think it is partly because of that ROR_2">Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) attitude that we have to use up all the indulgent stuff in the house so it won't tempt us during the long season of lent.

Amazingly for me, this Mardi Gras season has come at a time when I am in a good place both mentally and spiritually to get my temple (aka body) in order. Not so coincidentally, I will be reading Interior Castle by Teresa of Avilla, so the spiritual reflection is set in motion. I have been working out with the Wii for over a month now so the physical exercise component is in place, now I just have to wrap my brain around the eating as fuel and what is the best fuel to heat this particular temple and everything will start working together.

I have decided to make changes in my diet because it is the healthy thing to do, and I need to be eating better anyway, rather than thinking that I am depriving myself of something that tastes wonderful. I am going to go back to a diet that is very low in allergens, and in food groups that are close to the ones I am allergic to as well. (which means, less soy, less condiments which have traces of corn starch and corn syrup, etc).

Essentially I will be back to an Atkins/South Beach lifestyle which ends up being very low in carbs and higher in protein, but I am going to supplement it with fresh fruit in the afternoons as a snack. For drinks it will be back to tea, tea and more tea. One cup of coffee a day and then all the iced or hot tea or water I want the rest of the day. My big treat will come when I allow myself two pieces of dark chocolate in the evening. (gotta have my chocolate).

After a few weeks of eating sensibly for my particular body's needs I know I will begin to feel better, less tired and healthier. I should lose weight, but that isn't the immediate goal of my new plan. After the 40 days of Lent I should be totally transformed.

I just hope I can get it all together and make this a very spiritual practice and not get frustrated about the entire thing. We shall see, grasshopper, we shall see.

Pax

How Old Are You When You Know Who You Are?

I have been thinking a lot lately about friendships. When I was very young I had a few friends. But I wasn't what anyone would call one of the popular kids. I was entirely too shy for that distinction. I don't remember if our grade school had a clique of popular kids distinct from unpopular kids. I just know that even though I went to school with the same group of kids from kindergarten through ninth grade, there were very few that I counted as my close friends.

I was painfully shy, and maybe that was one drawback. I also felt very awkward in social situations. My father, on the other hand had such an easy social presence. No matter where we went he could strike up a conversation with just about anyone and within minutes it would be as if he had known that person for years. I was so much in awe of that ability. When I was in elementary school I was too timid to even ask for extra napkins at McDonald's.

I felt a little bit more at ease in middle school. By then I had a small group of friends that I knew I could count on to be loyal and "have my back" in any situation. We spent time together outside of school and got to know each other's likes and dislikes. We shared each other's joys and sorrows. It was these friends who helped me the most when my father died.

Sadly, for me it was this group of friends that I lost when my mother decided to uproot us and move away from all the memories of my father, first to Hawaii for the summer and then to Terre Haute to begin my Sophomore year in High School.

I was a new kid in a new school and all those shy feelings came flooding back. I had no support system except my sisters and brothers, and they were all dealing with the same sense of alienation that I was. I really had no idea how to make friends, or to be a friend when I first got to Terre Haute. I was miserably lonely most of the first two years of High school. I went to class with the "smart kids" because my grades were good, but I had no idea how to interact with them or how to break into their social circles.

One thing I did have was youth group at Church. Some of the kids in the youth group went to the Catholic high school which closed my junior year, and then they transferred either to my high school or the other one in town. I at least had my faith in common with the kids in the youth group, so there was a bond there I didn't have with the rest of the kids at school. But even as I senior in High School, I had no idea who I was.

Not knowing who I was probably explains why I couldn't decide on a major in college. I went to college because that is what people did after high school. I knew I wasn't going to work in an ice cream shop the rest of my life, so I registered for college on the local State University where I could live at home and go to school.

I stumbled through college not really knowing who I was. I was still that painfully shy kid, I didn't have many friends. I didn't know what I wanted out of life, except having some vague idea that I was supposed to be trying to please God.

It really isn't surprising to me that I don't have any close friends from high school and college. I must have been like a ghost back then. I wonder if people even remember me really from back then. I had no idea who I was, so how could I share what I didn't have with other people. I do know that there were people back then who were nice to me, but not in a lasting friendship kind of way. Through the amazing technology of Facebook I see my high school classmates who have remained close friends since we were in high school 30 years ago and even longer because they knew each other in grade school. In a way I am envious of having a friendship like that because it is something I have never had.

I have only been able to acquire close friendships like that in the last fifteen years or so. It wasn't until after I had my kids, and even to some extent after my mom's diagnosis of Alzheimer's disease that I really began to figure out who I am as a person. Now I have some very close friendships. I am able to give of myself, because I now understand that there is worth there to be given.

I suppose what I am trying to work out is, is this a skill that can be taught? Can I teach my children how to have lasting friendships when they are young so that they won't look back when they are nearing 50 (yes in less than two years I will be the big Five-Oh!) and wish they had made better connections when they were younger? Or is it just something that one has to be born with, a natural gift.

I suppose I will never know, and it really shouldn't matter. I should just cherish the friends I have. Like the woman I am having lunch with on Monday. Now she is a friend worth cherishing.

Pax

A Reflective Week

This has been an interesting week for me. It was the first week of my new semester in my Spiritual Direction Internship. This semester "the gloves come off" so to speak and we actually have to begin to perform the task of spiritual direction in a very structured and supervised environment directing our fellow classmates.

This semester also the topics go even deeper into the realm of spirituality; for instance the first topic on Tuesday was Spirituality and Social Justice. For three hours we delved into the true biblical meaning of justice and how counter-cultural it is to contemporary societies meaning of justice in many ways. It was an intense morning to say the least.

I volunteered to be a Guinea pig directee for the first session of Spiritual direction in our afternoon session. One of our instructors was the Director, and was showing the other classmates how to conduct a direction session. I was told to come prepared with a topic to discuss, so I had been thinking over the weekend about something that I have been trying to figure out for a while. I didn't expect much, since the session was only going to be 20 minutes long, but what happened was an extremely intense spiritual experience in which I was able to unpack not only why I have been struggling with this issue, but also to explore an even deeper understanding of how I see God and God's love and care for me.

By the end of the time I had laughed and cried and found a resolution to my dilemma that will keep me in a volunteer ministry that I love doing but that had been causing me great distress for quite some time, because I am doing it for the right reason, and my human, faulty gift to that ministry is worth giving.

Then yesterday as the angelbaby and I were driving to school, the car transmission went out and we got stranded on the side of the road in the freezing cold. As we were sitting there assessing our situation the angelbaby was trying to find something to be optimistic about and realized that had the car gone out earlier in the week mrangelmeg would have still been away on his work trip and not blessedly a local call away to handle calling for son-and-heir to come pick us up, and a tow truck to pick up the car and tow it to the shop.

I am constantly amazed at how many faith lessons I learn from my youngest child. We still don't know the extent of the car's problems, and may have to make a decision as to whether it is even worth it to sink a bunch of money into a 10 year old car, but we at least have son-and-heir's car to share for a few days and the girls all have Martin Luther King Jr Day off on Monday.

After sitting here this morning and reflecting on my week, I have come to realize that God carefully orders our steps. I am so blessed that I have this family that is filled with people who are so willing to pitch in and get the job done.

Next week it is my turn to be Spiritual Director for the first time. I have no illusions that I will be as masterful as my instructor was, but if I learned anything from my session of direction this week it is that anything worth doing is worth beginning poorly because you can't begin to improve unless you begin.

Pax

Road Closed! But It Isn't Always About You My Dear . . .

or so counsels my spiritual director.

On my way to my regular monthly appointment with Fr. Rick I encountered not one but two closed roads which caused me to be detoured way the heck out of my way and made me very late for my appointment. When I finally arrived at his office and we had settled in and said a prayer together I asked him to interpret for me the significance of not one by two roadblocks in my way today.

He then told me what I can't have known because I was enjoying the sun and surf in almost-paradise all summer: there was disastrous flooding in the area that displaced two thousand families from their homes and destroyed three bridges along State Road 46. So the closed road had absolutely nothing to do with my spiritual journey, because God wouldn't be that much of a bully to displace all those people just to send me a silly message. In essence Fr. Rick said "Get Real, it isn't always about you my dear." a message I need to be reminded from time to time.

I told him that it did offer me an opportunity to practice a discipline of patience (which I sadly lack and need the practice, ) so I did get some benefit from the detours. Grace comes even if the reason for the obstacle isn't meant for me. God can work like that.

I love spiritual direction and my spiritual director in particular because he has a way of making sure I don't take myself too seriously or take everything as a portent of something greater meant only for me (as if God's great big world does revolve around me and me alone). He also calls me on my faults, and helps me to try to root them out and keep them always in front of me, so that I can see them clearly.

The trip home was much less stressful, because I knew which way to go. That was nice.

Pax

Have you ever . . .

felt like you were living the same day over and over . . .

only to realize that you had forgotten

to rip the page-a-day sheets off of your calendar

for about a week.

Or is that just my life?

Pax

Sunday is a day for Prayers, Reflection and Wind in my Hair?

So mom got put into the hospital last night because she was in a violent rage (not the first since she got to the nursing home) This one was so bad that for her own safety they had to restrain her to keep her from injuring herself and others. So we are back to square one, she is in a Geriatric Behavioral Health facility where hopefully they can address whatever it is that is causing these rages and get her back to her easygoing self (well as much as her disease will allow of that) and get her back into the nursing home as quickly as possible.

Mrangelmeg and I drove up to get her signed in and see if there was anything the hospital needed for us to know. Mrangelmeg was as excited as a 16 year old kid because I agreed to let him drive the Jeep (without the soft top). He loves his jeep and to get to take it out on the highway was a thrill I guess. I didn't mind all that much except for the tangles I got from having my hair whip around for three hours or more (in three drives not all at once).

Oldest daughter came back to pick up more of her clothes and regale me with stories about apartment living (still no working dryer in their apartment, half the complex was without power for most of the day, She and her roommates are getting along great.)

She has an interview at Staples tomorrow for a new (second) job. If they hire her she is going to work both jobs for a while to save money and then when she decided that she can live on her Staples salary she is going to quit waitressing altogether.

Mrangelmeg left right after dinner to visit with his mom. I think that spending the afternoon with my mom was a great wake up call that he needs to be more attentive to his mom while she is still alive and capable of conversation. My mother-in-love is a wonderful woman, she still washes and irons mrangelmeg's dress clothes (since she retired anyway) Me being the wonderful daughter-in-love that I am takes a load of dress clothes over to her house every week (What a sacrifice for me).

Please pray with me that things go well for my mom and my daughter.

Pax