Spark

 1st Oct 2022

 

Following on from last weeks story, I stay with Marie in the garden.

The  prompt word, Spark.

Marie glanced through the grubby window of the greenhouse, saw his spade hanging in the place he had always left it, saw the neat pots stacked in ordered rows, saw the seed boxes  all meticulously and lovingly  made by Frank all those years ago, and wondered what had finally pushed her over the edge, what was the spark that set her off.

When they first got married she enjoyed sharing his passion for all things horticultural, had followed him around at shows, had even done a course in flower arranging so she could make use of the many flowers that he grew, eventually becoming a teacher herself. 

However, as time went on and the children came along, it became clear to Marie that his plant obsession was the most important thing in the world to him and she would have to get on with things by herself, which , for the sake of the children and because she had loved him, she put up with.

The fact that their father showed them so little affection, she found it difficult over the years to convince her daughter and two sons that their father did actually love them, speaking well of him at all times and doing her best to encourage him on the odd occasion, usually with flowers involved, to attend events that they might be involved in. 

But she had become tired of living a lie and on that last day, the day he'd trudged over her new carpet with his muddy boots without a care for her at all, she'd been slicing onions for their dinner and suddenly, though she has no recall of the incident itself, she found herself looking down at his body, blood dripping from the knife she held in her hand.

"This is a good spot for you, right where you'd want to be," she said to her dead husband as she rolled him into the hole she'd dug outside his greenhouse, while she wondered how she would get his blood out of her new carpet.   

Lazarus and the rich man

 Lazarus and the rich man

 In the Gospel this Sunday Jesus, speaking to the Pharisees,  gives us the story of Lazarus and the rich man. 

What would these Pharisees think listening to this story? Would  it be hard for them to stomach, especially since  it dispels an  idea prevalent at the time that  material prosperity in this life was a reward for being  morally upright and that adversity was a punishment.

It also  makes it very clear that the soul survives after death and therefore there  is retribution in the next life, that we have to answer to God for all our acts in this life.

The rich man had no intention of harming poor Lazarus. He had probably seen many like him, begging at his door. He was able to get on with his life happily and ignore the fate of this poor beggar. He managed not to "see" him, not to bring his problems into his own life.  So, although he didn't do anything to cause him harm he sinned by omission. He could have helped him but chose not to. 

 

What is Jesus telling us? 

Do we need to ask ourselves some questions? 

Am I ignoring those that are around me who are in need? Am I, in fact, guilty of committing sins of omission, by not helping where I can, by not considering the dignity of every person I meet?

Am I slow to help the poor, the sick the needy, close to home and in other parts of the world?

Am I willing  to do more and, at least, raise awareness? 

I will die. It might be soon. Then I will, hopefully, go to the Lord. I will take nothing with me except what I did here on earth, how I loved and how I treated others. 

I should  do the best I can while I still have time.    

Tying the Knot

20th Sept 2022

Six sentence story with :

                                              girlieontheedge 

   I Can't Undo The Knot

Part 1

Marie waters the rose bush, notices some old blossoms which have changed from  beautiful, rich, deep orange to faded, dull  pink and which she now dead heads, wondering why age is so ugly.

 "Rosa Independence",  a bush she  chose herself, has grown outside her husbands greenhouse for six years now and yet, regularly,  Marie walks to the end of the garden to tend it and spend some time in quiet contemplation, though it never seems to settle her thoughts or bring her any comfort or consolation and whilst she abhors living in the rambling old house, with it's creaky stairs and large cold rooms, she knows that she can never leave. 

"Mum, this place is killing you, it's about time you got out, moved on, got a life for yourself" her daughter often pleads, "and mum, you know me and Chris will help, and come on, it's gone six years now since dad went, and, honestly,  seeing you like this is heart-breaking."

Her daughters words hurt more than she wanted to admit, but as she kneels down in the dirt,  weeding under the bush, she remembers her last day with Frank,  when he came home from the Mid Henton Holicultural show, with an award for "Most Improved Bloom", and walked through the hallway, her clean hallway,  imprinting it with muddy footprints from his boots and grunting, "Where's me dinner then?"

"I do miss you," she snifs,  as her tears fall into the dirt,  "but maybe we shouldn't have tied the knot so tightly all those years ago, because , no matter what I do, I can't undo it...I can't undo it, and although I'm not locked up,  I'm not free, am I,  and here we are, you and I, here we are"  

----

 

Marie glanced through the grubby window of the greenhouse, saw his spade hanging in the place he had always left it, saw the neat pots stacked in ordered rows, saw the seed boxes  all meticulously and lovingly  made by Frank all those years ago, and wondered what had finally pushed her over the edge, what was the spark that set her off.

When they first got married she enjoyed sharing his passion for all things horticultural, had followed him around at shows, had even done a course in flower arranging so she could make use of the many flowers that he grew, eventually becoming a teacher herself. 

However, as time went on and the children came along, it became clear to Marie that his plant obsession was the most important thing in the world to him and she would have to get on with things by herself, which , for the sake of the children and because she had loved him, she put up with.

The fact that their father showed them so little affection, she found it difficult over the years to convince her daughter and two sons that their father did actually love them, speaking well of him at all times and doing her best to encourage him on the odd occasion, usually with flowers involved, to attend events that they might be involved in. 

But she had become tired of living a lie and on that last day, the day he'd trudged over her new carpet with his muddy boots without a care for her at all, she'd been slicing onions for their dinner and suddenly, though she has no recall of the incident itself, she found herself looking down at his body, blood dripping from the knife she held in her hand.

"This is a good spot for you, right where you'd want to be," she said to her dead husband as she rolled him into the hole she'd dug outside his greenhouse, while she wondered how she would get his blood out of her new carpet.   

Angel

 16th September 

Joining six sentence story bloghop.

Prompt word - Guard

Angel

I ask for him to light the way, 

to guard me every single day,

to rule me, to guide me

on my way.

He's always there to help me out,

especially when I'm driving  about.

He's great at finding parking spots

and when I ask, 

He finds  me lots.

And lately, as my memory dims,

he aids me finding my lost things.

I can honestly say I rely so much 

on his gentle guidance 

and soft, warm touch.

So thank you dear Angel for all you do,

for staying close and for being you.

 

Have you no Faith?

 

We can be worried  and afraid of all manner of things. 

We might have a  physical illness and get anxious that it will be terminal, or, at least stop us doing what we normally do.

We might have money issues and are concerned about how we'll pay our bills.

One of our children might be ill or in trouble and we don't know how we can help.

We might have a tough talk to give. And though it is for the Lord, we stay awake at night going over and over what we're going to say. 

We will all have our own scenarios. 

A lady wanted to run a prayer group to help ladies that she knew grow in their relationship with The Lord. Her spiritual director thought it was a great idea and so she prepared for it as best she could. Before the first meeting she got very anxious and her family life suffered. She lead the prayer group and all was well. At the second one, she changes somethings and tried to listen to the Holy Spirit, and although it went better ( in her judgement), it was far from what she'd hoped she could do.                                                          She prayed about it and consulted and discovered that she hadn't been trusting it to the Lord, not really. Even though she thought she had. 

Then she found this quote which gave her a lot of peace. 

Mk 4: 40 "He said to them, ""Why are you afraid? Have you no Faith?""

She intends to prepare for the third meeting in a more relaxed way, with Jesus,  relying on Him more, to trust Him more and leave the result up to Him. She is going to "get out of the way, so God can enter..."

Let us place our reliance on God and leave every outcome up to Him. 

Changeling 2

  31st Aug 2022

From a few years ago, with some changes

2nd Oct 2019

Day 2 of octpowrimo.
Why don't you have a go. It would be lovely to see your words.

Going for an acrostic as I found the prompt, Changeling,  a bit hard. 

I was thinking of my boy, who has ADHD and didn't "fit" societal expectations.

Changeling

You,  dear child,  you have,

extraordinary powers. 

Not understood by those 

who have 

preconceived ideas

 of a normal sort of life,

 a life that fits their comfort,
A life that doesn't veer from the

well trodden, wide, path, 

the road, everyone walks. 

But not you. 

No, they are blind to your  magic, 

your exuberant excitement, 

along this 
Great adventure of life,

where, for you,

 anything is possible,

 and no limits exist, 

where,  you explore, explode,

enthuse over everything,

over anything.

You, are larger than the life

you've  been given. 

You are the inventor most magnificent,

 the Nobleman in your  own country, 

you encounter all with joy. 

You speed through life, 

lighting up our lives.

Full Term

30th April

 The prompt for this six sentence story is "term"

Find info here: girlieonthe

girlieontheed ›

30th April 2022

 GirlieOnTheEdgeBlog 

Full Term

Sally walked through the tape, avoiding cracked steps, and stopping to slip  plastic  coverings over her shoes, before  walking through the open front door of the Victorian terraced house.  Her eyes smarted, and she coughed as the strong smell of bleach unexpectedly caught her throat. Covering her face with her hands, she made her way towards the kitchen, relieved  to discover  that the all the windows were open. 

"All yours, Doctor,"  the policemen said, as he passed her in the corridor, "not a pretty site, I'm afraid." 

How spotless everything looks, she thinks, glancing round the kitchen,  someone cleaned up well.  Only the body disrupted the scene, the body of a woman in her early thirties, Sally guessed, her clothes tattered, covered in blood,  cuts to her face, arms and legs, and, shockingly, as far as she  could tell, pregnant and full term, too.

 As Sally fell  to her knees beside the  splayed limbs of the woman, gently feeling for any sign that baby might be alive, she thought of another time, not long ago when her own little Joe died before he could take a breath and realising that this little one was dead too, she could no longer hold back her tears, which now flowed softly down her cheeks . 

Finding Ten

 29th April

It's a while since I posted anything on the ten things of thankful bloghop. 

I have no valid excuse.

It's not that I haven't  had cause to give thanks.  

I have. 

I just haven't felt like thinking about it, and actually being thankful.

I suppose my attitude hasn't been one of counting my blessings, but rather seeing only the obstacles. 

And those obstacles, dear readers, are so minute in my life as to be totally embarrassing to talk about.

So I won't.

So I come here today and try to ponder on what I can be grateful for. 

I'll just look at the past week.

1. On Wednesday we came back from Cornwall after spending twelve days at our daughter's, the first week dog sitting while they cruised the Norway Fjords, with the children, the second week a few days with all of them when they got back.  

It was a time to treasure, a time that's precious. We don't get to see them as often as we'd like as they live 6 hours away. 

I know you guys in America don't think that's such a big deal, but for us English folk, on our small island, I can assure you it's a massive trek.

2. I loved some of the coastal walks and  breathed the sea air, the freedom of it, deep into my lungs. As I walked I thought again that I'd like to do the Camino de Santiago. I'd have to practice lots before though. I'm not fit enough for it yet. 

3. On one of the walks when the family came home I strolled along with my six year old grandaughter. What joy as we created poems together from all that we saw around us - caterpillars, yellow gorse bushes, trains, birds, the colours of the sea, the dunes, the sand, the sound of church bell,  and much more. When she got home, she started a new journal which she called Seaside Poems.  Amazing.

4. Sharing a book with my grandson before he went to bed. It makes me so happy that he loves books. This lively boy of three can sit for an hour or more listening to stories. I love that. 

5. Then, when the children were in bed, we spent some quality time with our daughter and her husband. A glass of wine and chatting together - just my cup of tea ( ah, no, it's wine xxx) To see the love they have for each other is quite humbling and brings a lump to my throat. 

6. When we got home and I looked out into the garden I was overjoyed to see the reds and blues and yellows of plants bursting into bloom. And my clematis coming back to life with it's beautiful purple flowers. What a lot had happened in the garden in that short twelve days. Of course, there is a lot of weeding to do too. But hey ...

7. I heard on the family grapevine how one of the children was helping a sibling out with a problem. How proud I am of my children.  It happens with the grandchildren too , and  even between the generations. It's more than I thought possible, yet maybe only the tip of the iceberg, for all I know. 

8. Hubby and I went in some galleries when we were away. I was blown away by the  exhibition in the Newlyn Gallery in Penzance, called Captured Beauty. Here's some blurb:

Black Voices Cornwall is an organisation that exists to enable Cornwall to become an actively anti-racist county. The ambition for Captured Beauty is for ethnically diverse visitors to feel seen through the works in this exhibition. It is also an opportunity for the white community to have an insight to how it feels to be a person of colour in the 21st century, and to come away from the exhibition with a determination to finally end racism.

We were told that 98.2% of Cornwall is white and one of the artists said she can go for more than three weeks without seeing a person like herself. How isolating is that. 

The exhibition was very humbling. 

It made me think, as St Josemaria said many years ago, "there's only one race, the human race...". If only we could remember that.

9. Another exhibition I enjoyed was called Simple Truths. Again, it made me think. Taking ordinary daily experiences and giving them a twist was clever. There was even some up to date pieces such as a shop assistant in a bakery carefully putting a loaf of bread in brown  paper . She is wearing a mask.  Only able to see her eyes, we're left with questions. Might she be smiling? 

I have to thank my lovely hubby for introducing me to the wonder of galleries. 

10. Finally, I'm thankful for this bloghop, which has encouraged me to find things to be thankful for and has got me writing. 

The Run

 22 02 2022

The Run

Earnestly, he rubs the canvas

With a damp cloth,

reveals the white of his

old trainers.

Deliberately, one by one, unravels

 the blue laces,

dreamily watches a fly

 crawl among crumbs

 on grey tiles,

 oh, little fly,

you have no idea how lucky you are.

Out on the downs, on the coastal path,

he runs,

he runs, … slowly, …at first,

until, inside his head

an explosion, a war, of words

fly back and forth.

Keeping time he picks up pace

 Quickening,  the  louder they get,

Faster, …Faster, …Faster, …

Then…

his breath, his breath,…gives out...

He stops…        He falls…

He falls with …         A thud

Into the mud…

He curls…    Head down…

Face down…     Down in the dirt…

He sobs…

He sobs…

Down in the dirt, he sobs…

Renouncing self- Gospel reflection

 22 02 2022

Mark 9:34-9:1

Jesus called the people and his disciples to him and said:

“If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake and the sake of the gospel, will save it. What gain, then, is it for a man to win the whole world and ruin his life? And indeed, what can a man offer in exchange for his life? For if anyone in this adulterous and sinful generation is ashamed of m end of my words, the Son of Man will also be ashamed of him when he comes in the glory of his father with the holy angels” And he said to them, “I tell you solemnly, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the kingdom of God come with power”

What does it mean to renounce oneself? And take up our cross? To save our life we must lose it. What’s all that about? How do we do that?

Does it mean I need to be in a convent, away from the bad world? Is that the way to save my life? Or join some catholic association and work for them, losing my life in that work so I can save it?

No, this message of Jesus is for everyone, not just for a few who can be Holy. No, I’m called to be Holy, we all are. He wants us not just to know about him, but to get close to him, intimately close - young people through their  studies, single people in their professional work, mothers and fathers in the family and in their professional work, and yes, also priests and nuns and those who work for the church. All of us offering Jesus our whole lives, through the little things of everyday.

So, in my life, whatever it looks like, Jesus asks me to renounce self. He asks me to put Him first. I can do that, hundreds of times in one day. And I can always ask him, Jesus, what do you want me to do here, in this situation or that other one?

Lent starts on 2^nd March. Let’s make this lent a time to get close to Jesus to love Him more.  Each of us should prepare a plan. Not a huge list of things but something we’ll keep to. Something simple. Maybe you struggle getting up on time, then that’s a good place to start, as soon as the alarm goes, immediately turning your heart to God, and up. Renouncing self. “Help me live this day for you Lord”. Or it could be to do something small for someone you live with to make their life better - listening to them, giving them your time and attention. We’re so caught up in “self” sometimes, we don’t think of the others, who are often going through difficult times. A cup of tea, an offer of help. This, if done for Our Lord, is following Him, following Jesus. Could you, this lent, make time for Jesus by spending 10 or 15 mins in prayer with Him? Or read a passage of the Gospel every day? Maybe you already have these habits. Then think, can you do them with more love?  Ask Jesus for light to see what He wants of you this lent.