Il Papa has LANDED

He's here! Here on American soil at last - I was having my nails done when ABC News interrupted the broadcast of Oprah (Hallelujah!) to show the arrival of the Holy Father. I watched, enthralled, for several minutes after my nails were done and baked and dried - 

Did anyone else watch in awe as this 81-year old man almost trotted down the steps from that jet? 

What an amazing man! 

H/T to Eddy for helping me pull things into line to be able to stream EWTN's broadcasts for this historic visit -

More Tanner artwork -

Well, Grace, you did it - you sent me looking for more of Tanner's work. This is Tanner's Two Disciples at the Tomb -

Tanner's Annunciation -

It's back. When I changed templates for the blog, the background painting, Henry Tanner's Annunciation didn't transfer, and it's taken SEVERAL tries to figure out how to bring it back!

I love this painting. Don't remember where I first learned of it - I heard about it through Fr Benedict Groeschel and my friend Matt at about the same time. Learned this week that it's in the museum of Art in Philadelphia, and got a very intimate glimpse into what it means to actually get to stand in front of the painting and look at it, from one who has done it numerous times, so often, in fact, that he came to refer to it as "his painting" to his sons. "Let's go look at Dad's painting...."

I love this painting. The setting is so simple, so homey. There's no opulence or grandeur here. The wall hangings and the rug are clearly homespun, the floor local earthenware tiles - it's a simple home. It's a believable home - the rug has been kicked up and doesn't lie flat on the floor - Mary (like me) has not made her bed yet that day -

I love this painting. Look at that angel! No anthropomorphised European males with chin-length, curled-under hair and incongruous wings sprouting too-thinly out of their backs. No! This angel is decidedly Other-Worldly, he conveys all the Mystery of those beings of fire and light whom God uses as His Messengers -

I love this painting! Look at Mary! - no beatific Arian, pale, anemic-looking, frail; this Mary is dark, young, strong; she fits Steve Ray's description of her as "a tough little Jewish girl with dirty feet!" She looks like a young teenager who might be undergoing all the trauma of changing hormones and the onset of puberty. Look at her hands, her face - incredulous - as Matt said, she looks as if she might be asking, "Are you sure you're at the right house?" But you can see in her face the coming of that great Fiat: "Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done to me according to thy word."

You know how this painting feels to me? It feels as if I might have been there, as if I might have just rounded a corner through one of those archways and witnessed it all for myself. I feel the reverence and awe of being an accidental witness to one of the holiest moments in all of human history.

Wow.

More on liturgy and music

This is too good not to share - and Thanks! to Matt for sharing -

Opera!

He could be anywhere between the ages of 25 and 60, possessing a yuthful appearance but such incredible presence and power, not to mention expertise, that defies youth. And he, Maestro Francesco Maria Colombo, is conducting an opera Gala with the Opera Company of North Carolina this weekend.

It is my first experience singing opera.

Odd business, this. I'm the descendant of the Puritans, almost 100% English (a little Dutch thrown in a few generations back), with that stiff upper lip and deeply ingrained reserve the English are noted for - not to mention the traditions of self-denial and constraint of the females of the American South. And here I am singing opera choruses by Italian composers, being instructed by this Maestro to emote, to feel in the music as I'm not "supposed" to feel in real life.

"More sex!" he commanded for the women's trio of the Triumphal March from Aida. "Ladies, put more sex into your voices - use hormones!" We laughed, a little nervously I noticed.... how does one put sex into the voice????? But we appear to have succeeded; maybe those among us who have sung opera before know what he meant.

He told us to put more soul into "Patria Oppressa" (the Lament of the Scottish Refugees from Verdi's MacBeth) "It is the saddest thing Verdi ever wrote," he told us (and I'll take his word for it) - "the audience should be in tears!"

Emotion! Unaccustomed, a bit frightening -

We rehearsed ... was it last night or is it still tonight? I got home at midnight, the cat woke me up at quarter til four... - here I am, posting - with the orchestra and soloists. Wonderful cast! (See here) Simply magic. I don't know Italian, and I don't know how a true proficient would rate these singers, but for my money (considerable with gas at nearly $3.30/gallon and that long drive to and from Raleigh) these men and women are outstanding - clear, impassioned, gifted...

The music touches something in me, and it's a bit scary. I found my thoughts going places I didn't want them to go, listening - places of such intense feeling that I am almost afraid of. I was taught to suppress feelings, to control them - but for me it's gone too far, I've lost the ability to cry even when it is appropriate and needful. During the rehearsal I felt frighteningly close to tears several times. I'm a little (!) concerned that I might break over and shed tears during the performance -

and, once begun, not be able to stop.

It occurs to me that there is something cathartic and therefore therapeutic about this music - I only wish I had a mentor to teach me how to use it well.

Better, thank you all!

The back is better, thank you for caring - went to the chiropractor Friday and got an adjustment -
Still "on ice" part of the time, and I missed the glorious concert with the NC Symphony this weekend - Bach! I missed singing Bach! (wailing, here) -
But I did make it to Mass and choir rehearsal this morning, and made it through okay - early mornings are a little tight and unpleasant, but as I move around a bit things get a lot easier.

More musings soon - being laid up and unable to do much is great time for the brain to wander in all sorts of interesting directions......

which is worse?

-being in severe pain from a pulled muscle, lower back? or
-being alone while in such straits?

someone flip a coin -

Way to go, Louise!

I almost wish I were British, so I could cast a vote for my friend Louise Bagshawe for Parliament.

I "met" Louise a few years ago on one of my favorite Catholic websites. Her passion for politics, and her keen knowledge thereof, not only impressed me, it intimidated the daylights out of me!

Then I find out she's one of Britain's best-selling "chick lit" authors - and she very kindly sent me a copy of a newly published book a few years ago (I still have it - one of my "treasures")

To top it all of, she's a darned serious Catholic. She gets the issues in a Catholic moral sense -

So when I learned she's running for a seat in Parliament, I cheered - and now I'm sharing it with you!

Remodeling work

Yes, I've changed templates. So much in my life, in my self, is changing the past couple months, the pink of the old template was annoying me to pieces! LOL

I also wanted a format that would be easier for me to manage on my own, without having to plague dear Christine every time I wanted to change something in the sidebar. She is lovely to help me out, but I like being independent where I can't reciprocate service.

I'm undertaking a parallel course at home. I was sitting in my mother's rocker a month or so ago, knitting, and it suddenly occurred to me, in a complete non sequitur that I don't own a single chair that a man would be comfortable sitting on! and then I began to look around and to realize that my ersatz cottage look was too fussy and cluttered and had become annoying to me - almost overnight!

So, as with my house, so with my blog - a cleaner line, more subtle and sophisticated (just like the New Me!)

and more to come -

h/t to Angie for telling me about the changes here at Blogger that allow me to do all this.

but in the interest of fairness -

We were talking at the restaurant a couple weeks ago, and someone said something about raising kids, and I turned to the friend sitting to my left and said how grateful I am (especially since I didn't get to have a second family) that I was able to be a stay-at-home mom with my daughters.

A fellow sitting across the table heard me and proceeded to turn the conversation into an argument that SAHMs don't necessarily make all that much difference - while my point was that it had mattered to ME -

My daughers' first words were spoken to me. When they took their first steps, it was into my waiting arms. There was no "Miss Judy" my children couldn't wait to go see in the morning, or to give me a detached report of all that I had missed in my children's lives when I picked them up ten hours later.

No! The essential milestones of my daughters' lives were witnessed and celebrated by me - and often by their father.

Which brings me to a confession in the interest of fairness:

We were young when our daughters were born. Sarah, the younger, was born one week before my 24th birthday; Dan is just a couple months older than I. He was in school and holding down a full-time job to support us.

But he agreed that being a mom was the most important thing I could do, and he made those sacrifices and more and I never heard him complain about them. And, when our daughters were small, he was very involved with their little lives; it was his ritual to tuck them in at night, and it was with him, not me, that Christy explored metaphysical concepts ("Daddy, what is dead?")

Since receiving the Declaration of Nullity from the Diocese of Charlotte and the Archdiocese of Atlanta, I've been able to remember, without sting or bitterness, that there were some very good moments in our life together. I couldn't, before.

Does the authority of the Church go so far as this, even - to bring about this deep a healing?

You bet She does! and I'm ever more grateful for being part of Her.

more thoughts on being the ex-wife of a homosexual

Talked on the phone with my friend Molly last night. Molly is also the ex-wife of a homosexual man. We talked about the risks and anxieties of re-entering the dating world after our experiences, which are so similar as to be uncanny: married young to sons of Protestant/evangelical pastors; the marital dynamic mirrors one another's, and we both feel we were lucky to escape with our sanity more or less intact.

At the moment, for Molly, it feels decidedly less. She's dating a man she met in Church, and as they spend more time together and she becomes better acquainted with him, sees more of his personality and his character, she suddenly doubts her ability to discern.

After such experiences as ours, which common sense tells us any normal or rational person would surely have seen through and avoided early on, we doubt ourselves to a sad degree. We don't quite trust our own judgment, have to analyze data and experience to a molecular level.

The recurring theme in our conversation last night was what is normal masculine behavior, and where does it cross the line into trouble? Having spent so much time in such close, exclusive proximity to decidedly abnormal male behavior, we distrust our ability to recognize and to discern what is healthy and what is not.

Case in point: I married a seriously pathological drunk, second time around - was so blinded by the overwhelming relief that he was, at least, straight, that I didn't have all my mental gears operating normally to be able to recognize that he was simply oozing with spiritual sickness, was a chronic and elaborate (and rather gifted) liar, that he was looking for someone to take care of him rather than a genuine life partner, that he was mean as a snake and about as trustworthy as one.

Both Molly and I were married to gay men who transferred the full responsibility for the failure of our marriages to us. We were too needy, we had unrealistic expectations, unreasonable and idiotic ideals... We couldn't help internalizing the condemnation heaped on us, and so now we are afraid to love and to trust.

"He said so-and-so. Is that okay?" We've got our radar up for warning signs of misogyny, deceit, and more serious psychological disturbances. Where does his need for affirmation end and his egotistical disregard for our needs begin? Where does his anger at his former wife end and a more over-reaching contempt for women in general begin? Is he eager for me to know his mind, or is he demonstrating a chronic need always to be right? Am I expecting too much???" These are some of the questions that haunt our waking moments, and often even our dreams.

The really infuriating thing that I come across from time to time is the realization, the reminder, that our exhusbands do not care about the damage they have inflicted on us. Somehow, they rationalize and justify it so as to make us to blame even for the abuse. My ex-husband continues to insist to our daughters that our divorce had nothing whatsoever to do with his being gay, and that I was solely to blame for his decision to move out of the marital home.

Both Molly and I wonder whether we've been so damaged that we'll never be able to enter into a truly spiritually healthy relationship with a good man.

I really don't get it

A woman posts on a forum - she's dating a Catholic, he says his faith is important to him... now they're talking about marriage and he's telling her she needs to go through a nullity proceeding... and she's all upset, admits in her posts that she knows nothing about Catholicism.

All the time they've been dating, and she hasn't even been curious about something he says is important to him

Okay, somebody tell me: Which one of them is the stupider? Him for courting a woman who knows NOTHING about his Faith, or her for not trying to learn before now?

Mid-Life Crisis?

The woman at the web forum was talking about her mid-life crisis, evidenced by her sudden and irrational yearning for a red sporty convertable.

My mid-life crisis is being answered very practically, in going back to school, in giving way to latent ambitions and longings.

ROME is my "red convertable." I hope to be there in less than three years, studying, not just being a tourist visiting all the touristy spots, but really living there in a little apartment, shopping in local markets, cooking - the whole nine yards.

I'm going to spend the rest of my life alone, I believe. There's the inner knowledge that there's only one man in the world for me, and recent events cause me to question my vision of him, make me wonder whether he is only a beautiful construct of my imagination - and I know I'd not be satisfied with less than I saw him to be. Better to be alone than "bound in chains of law to one I loathe." (thanks, William Blake, for that wording) -

Meantime, I live out my midlife crisis by ordering some clothes in online outlets and buying three new pairs of shoes to support my poor falling arches - LOL - and wearing perfume even when I'm home alone and splurging on a sweet variety of flowers at the Fresh Market this week because I know I need them for my very spirit, and wearing skirts and tops to work this week, not the slacks and plain and practical tops I'm accustomed to wear because they're so "practical."

My new glasses proved their worth as I was driving home from Raleigh, last Tuesday, the day I picked them up. The anti-glare coating is an extravagance, but it was raining and nasty, and I could really tell a difference in how things looked and felt and my fatigue level (from squinting and being tense) was hugely reduced.

It's slow going, but I really am enjoying this life revision process very much. Since receiving the notice of the nullity of the marriage to The Fairie Prince, I've enjoyed a new decisiveness about myself - an ability to walk into a room, target an item (say, certain clothes I've been wearing for ages, or the hairdryer Rusty had before we were married, or even the broken stereo that only plays radio any more) and say "This has GOT to go!" - no prevaracations, no guilt for the extravagance and impracticality of the decision... just relief and joy.

I'm learning this new computer - will take and download some journalling type photos soon.

Gosh! it's good to be me!

Prayers for Hope

Hope is one of my girlfriends from that website that shall henceforth remain nameless (until I forget I resolved never to mention it again LOL) -

Got an email from her a few minutes ago - she is scheduled for an angiogram tomorrow morning, Friday, 2/22. Some weird physical feelings had her uneasy, so she went to the doctor, just to play it safe -

The first round of tests were concerning, so this angiogram It could be as simple as false readings on the first tests, all the way to major trouble requiring surgery.

Hope's a young woman, in her 30s I'm sure. Please hold her in your prayers. Update will be posted as soon as I have one.

Belmont Abbey in the News

I don't understand why some people simply Do Not Get It.
http://www.catholic.org/national/national_story.php?id=26877
http://www.catholic.org/national/national_story.php?id=26873&cb300=vocations

God bless our dear friends at Belmont Abbey for taking this stand. Pray for the College President and for Abbot Placid as they face a whole lot of heat from an anti-Christian world.

And check the archives for my visit to Belmont!

Hank

Hank entered into Eternity late in the afternoon, Wednesday, February 13. His wife of 56 years was with him, and she told me it was a gentle, peaceful passing.

I've watched Dorris over several months, and it has seemed to me she has been growing in radiance and peace. Hank's health had not been good for a long time, and he'd suffered quite a bit. Anxiety had taken a toll on her. But recently, the lines in her face have smoothed out and her smile has been sweeter and her countenance, also. It has seemed as if she'd taken on a literal glow.

This is an amazing gift of Grace, to be carried in such a way.

I ache for Dorris, parting with a life companion like this. I learned at the funeral Mass yesterday, they'd been together since she was 17. Their lives were so wholly connected with one another -

I have to confess, though, that I envy her even this pain. Dorris has had a privilege I covet - of being able to serve, in such full self-donation, a man she loves, of literally handing him to the Father in those final instants of his earthly life. As much as she misses him, as hard as the days ahead will be, there is still something precious that she has given of herself that any woman would want to be able to give the one she loves.

IN SCHOOL!!

Doin' the Happy Dance - well, my heart is; my knees simply will not cooperate. I'm afraid I'm looking at surgery - will have to see an orthopedist when my financial aid disbursements roll in.

But I'm not blogging about my yucky knees. I'm blogging about -
SCHOOL!!!!

My first three courses arrived on Wednesday, and I've listened to the first two lectures in all three and begun reading the assignments in Plato's Republic and in Henri de Lubac's (the very name has me in awe) The Splendor of the Church.

This same course that requires de Lubac also has a supplemental package containing... POETRY - T.S. Eliot (Four Quartets), Tennyson, John Henry Newman ("Dream of Gerontius") -

Poetry in a theology class!

Which got me thinking - and of course poetry belongs in a theology class. Theology is poetry, the only possible medium for speaking of the Eternal, the Ideal, the Beautiful, the Ineffible. Prose is the language of pragmatic things, the delineations of rules, regulations, and measures. Only Poetry can move beyond the practical to the glories of the Mysteries of vast, eternal things.

I've now got a new medium for reading the Catechism (required in two of my courses- Theology of the Church and Sacraments) - although that great work is arranged in Paragraphs, it is no more Prose than Aquinas' Corpus Christi hymns; it is Poetry, through and through. And suddenly it is ever so much friendlier to my heart.

Name Meme - Thanks, Angela!

Rules:
1. You have to post the rules before you give your answers.

2. You must list one fact about yourself beginning with each letter of your middle name. (If you don't have a middle name, use your maiden name or your mother's maiden name).

3. At the end of your blog post, you need to tag one person for each letter of your middle name.

L-Loyal (fiercely)
E-Educated (and becoming more so - thank you, Franciscan U!)
I-Intelligent
G-Giddy (over annulment and starting school!)
H-Happy - yes, I really am!

Do I really have to tag FIVE PEOPLE????
If you don't have a blog, answer #2 in the Comments box -
Laura Rios, Courtney, Sinead, Adoro, Randy (if you still read)

How many memes do I owe Angela? LOL -

All the same - here's a sharing making the internet rounds -

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? not that I know of

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? I don't remember - too long ago, evidently

3. Do you like your handwriting? most of the time, yes

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAL? ham sandwich with tomato soup

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? YES-- 2

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? You betcha!

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM ALOT? publicly or privately? - not much in public.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? no

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? NO - HELL, NO!

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? rice chex

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? Sometimes

12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? not physically, but emotionally I thin I'm too strong.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? What! There's more than one flavor??? (Chocolate! )

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Their eyes

15. RED OR PINK? Both

16. BEACH OR MOUNTAINS? Yes

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? My daughters

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU? YES

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? khaki slacks, white athletic shoes

20 WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? Roast beef, potatoes and pintos (this was Thursday night, by the way, when I first answered these!)

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? The radio - WCPE - a production of Verdi's McBeth

22. IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? grey

23. FAVORITE SMELLS? ripe pine straw, rain on upturned earth,

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? Steven

25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? Yes - and have for a long time!

26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Whatever my friends are watching... except "wrestling" and NASCAR

27. HAIR COLOR? greying dark ashe blonde

28. EYE COLOR? mostly green/hazel

29. Do you wear contacts? No

30. FAVORITE FOOD? yes

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? HAPPY ENDINGS

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? The Philadelphia Story with Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING ? navy blue

34. SUMMER OR WINTER? summer

35. HUGS OR KISSES? from whom? Frankly, I suspect I've forgotten how to kiss..... sigh.

36. FAVORITE DESSERT? Chocolate anything

37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? not sure I'm going to forward it

38. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?

39. Which book are you reading now? Plato's Republic. Yes, it's for school.

40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? no mouse pad - I'm using a laptop

41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT? I can't watch tv right now - broken remote so can't get the one channel I receive here.

42. FAVORITE SOUND? rain on a tin roof

43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? BEATLES

44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? Monterey, CA.

45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? I don't know what it is - all my talents are shared with so many people....

46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Pinehurst, NC

47. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK? All of them

48. WHAT TIME IS IT NOW? 8:37 pm

Ash Wednesday noodlings

Like one of my email friends said, Ash Wednesday has "snook up" on me, too. I still have Christmas music rolling around in my mind, it seems, and here, today, we begin the hymns of penance and sorrow for our sins.

Lent is a season for prayer, penance, and works of service. My prayer life is getting a hard start. It seems as if this week a multitude of prayer needs have come to me, via email or personal conversation. Hank's heart surgery was Monday - Steph's pneumonia hasn't responded to treatment - another friend knows someone with MRSA - a friend's romantic relationship isn't what it ought to be - another suffers terrible food allergies - - -

Just what I don't want to do: pray for other people! I'd much rather wallow in the self-indulgence of my own disappointment than take my eyes off myself and look at the sorrows of others! I want their prayers, not to exert myself for them!

It's cute and clever to joke about giving up chocolate for Lent, but the real issue is the one I've been confronting this whole past week: self-denial, not in petty indulgences like chocolate, but in real issues of egotism and selfishness.

Thankfully, I've begun spiritual direction from a retired priest settled in this area. Fr. John has recommended I begin with reading St. Augustine, and so I've dug out the Confessions for my Lenten devotional reading. I loved Augustine when I was in college, twenty years ago. I'll ask him, when I see him next week, about St. Francis de Sales, whose Introduction to the Devout Life had caused me to seek him out in the first place.

I know, too, that during this Lenten season I shall have to take a deep breath and pay a visit to a couple of the more difficult and unpleasant people in my life. I've been procrastinating for so long, they may throw me out of the house before I can do more than say hello. I shall try not to take personally, or hold a grudge against, any ugliness that might arise in the course of our time together.

It is, after all, about killing that self-centered bit of the ego - or is it the Id at this point? Let it be crucified with Christ -