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 -

Draft: Laura's Theory of Dating and Kissing

Terribly raw, this theory - very much in process. But I was in a discussion in which one of the participants was sort of gushing about kissing (er, making out, in the old 70s vernacular) her boyfriend -

and I was kind of surprised how much the conversation embarrassed me and left me feeling uneasy. Surprised??? Honeychile, I have had a secret affinity with Ado Annie from Oklahoma! for years - I'm jist a girl who cain't say 'no' -

But being Catholic changes the way a gal looks at things, more even than turning 50. After all, turning the half-century corner didn't do a darn thing to my libido - my inner vixen is still alive and well, thank you very much. And I can get downright drunk on kissing.

No - a Catholic who has even a passing acquaintance with John Paul II's Theology of the Body is awakened to an idea more glorious than anything the world and popular mores can conceive. Such a promise makes it highly desirable to sacrifice the temporarily and superficially thrilling as an investment toward the achieving of the idea's Realization.

So -

What I have decided upon in certainty is this: (1) A Kiss ought to mean something, not just be a mindless and cheap form of entertainment. (2) Hand-holding and cheek kisses are sweet, wholly-neglected demonstrations of affection that need to be rediscovered and practiced more liberally.

(3) The experience of intimacy of lips on lips is so profound that it should never be cheapened into recreational snogging.

Our grandparents were from a generation that associated kissing with engagement. I'm not sure I want to go that long before being kissed, but by and large I approve of the concept - See #3, above.

Right now, I'm thinking that it would be blissfully sweet, should He Whom My Soul Loves and I discover we love one another, to seal our understanding with a kiss - and maybe exchange a chaste kiss good-night at the end of a date, after that. But I'm not sure that is exclusive enough.

What do you think? Influence me with your opinions!

Big bold new post on one of the websites I visit:

VALENTINE'S DAY IS COMING.

Turn my stomach, why don'tcha?

Look. I hate! "Hallmark Holidays," those commercially-driven occasions built up for the sole purpose of selling specialized goods - and making those of us left out of the game feeling lower than dirt.

Valentine's Day, Mother's Day... I used to tell my daughters that every day is Mother's Day for me. With a good man who loved me, whom I loved, every day would be Valentine's Day -

We don't need these stupid commercial "holidays" to compensate for neglect of 364 other days during the year - or to remind the rest of us what we don't have.

I wish life were as simple as knitting - as easily repaired, as easily ripped-out and started over.

I've been teaching myself to knit since early November, and I enjoy it - but my early scarves were ripped out several times and started over until I got the knack of it. They were all in a simple garter stitch (all-knit). A "fun fur" scarf can be measured in terms of a few hours; a real scarf, 6"-8" wide, in days. It took a couple of weeks to work up the wide shoulder throw -

I just ripped out a skein and a half of work, representing more than two weeks' work, on an afghan. It's my first effort at stockinette stitch - alternating rows of knit and purl. Purl isn't as hard as I thought it would be -

but it's a big project - I cast off 250 stitches on size 9 circular needle - and somewhere in there I dropped a few stitches, and got distracted and went backwards instead of forward and just generally made a MESS. So I ripped it all out and later this evening I will sit and carefully cast on another 250 stitches and start over... for the fourth time.

If only life were so simple. Yes, it's a nuisance to rip out a skein and a half of yarn and to anticipate my fourth start with 250 stitches to cast on (my least favorite part of a project, so far); but I can start over, and the final project will not reveal my beginner ineptness, my careless mistakes... at least, not nearly so flagrantly as my earlier efforts. When I am done (in five years, at this rate!) I will have an afghan that can drape across the back of my couch and any visitor to my home can admire.

But life - there is no unravelling life mistakes or re-knitting a bad row. We have to go on, knitting and purling, adding what we hope will be good fixes (but even fixing is an advanced skill) and, no matter what we do, a careful eye will always be able to pick out the flaws in our work. There will be no perfect, unflawed life tapestry - we can only hope and pray that our mistakes will be blended in with growing skill and a lot of love and faith, and so give depth and contrast to the whole. I hope my good stitches, in future efforts, will make up for the dropped ones, the mis-counted ones - even though the good work can't un-do the bad.

Not Valid

Dear Ms. Lowder:

It is my pleasure to inform you that we have received a decision from our Appeal Court which upholds the decision in your favor given by this Tribunal that your marriage... was NOT VALID under the law of the Catholic Church....

The Second Instance decision is signed and dated January 16, 2008 - exactly twenty years to the day after he and I separated.

The mercies of God are immense.

I won't be going back to the restaurant where the old crowd had taken to going after rehearsals.

Actually, it's a gay bar. No, it's not a seedy place, the prices are quite reasonable, the food is terrific, and the sanitation grade is quite high.

I mentioned my intention to one of the men in our circle, not a Catholic, but active in his own church, and his response was, "Yeah, the cigarette smoke was really bad in there tonight."

I couldn't explain to him, because we are operating out of such different paradigms, that the cigarette smoke was the least of my worries (singers always worry about smoke) -

It was the spiritual climate of the place.

I had to get up and walk around a bit to find the waitress, which gave me a look at the establishment's clientele: young adults, mostly - the men downplaying their masculinity with unisex attire, or sporting long hair and think pointy goatees that looked as if they might have been theatrical makeup on such think, immature faces. A couple of them, I had to glance to see whether they had Adams Apples - the women demonstrably ill at ease with their womanhood, hiding it behind oversized, shapeless clothes, bad haircuts and a defiant lack of makeup -

All looked haunted, troubled. There was among them none of the animation that characterized our own group. Even those I saw laugh lacked real animation; their laughter did not reach their eyes.

This experience was so consistent with the observations I have made of my ex-husband since he came "out" - the secondary issues of homosexuality have not been publicly explored or discussed - I've never heard them admitted.

I have come away from this restaurant more convinced than ever, by empirical, personal demonstrations, of the truly disordered nature of homosexuality and its destructive effects on individuals and on society.

St. Michael, pray for us!
.

Lookee here!

Did I mention that the NC Master Chorale has a page on MySpace? Here it is!

Happy Birthday, Sweet Girl

Twenty-eight years ago - can I possibly be old enough to have a 28-year old daughter? - very shortly after midnight, I gave birth to the answer of so many prayers and longings. Christian Joy - and her name was more fitting than her father or I could have possibly have anticipated during those waiting months of my pregnancy. She was exquisitely beautiful with dark and brilliant eyes and an intense gaze, even in the moments immediately after her birth when she was wrapped in the hideous green hospital blankets and placed into her father's arms because I was violently trembling from head to foot after the effort of pushing her into the world. The bonding connection between them was electric, visible. I was never able to share it.

She grew up sweet, intense - We took her to church the Sunday after her birth on Tuesday morning, and as Ruth began the opening notes on a full-bodied organ prelude, her eyes flew open with, we thought, alarm - but it wasn't alarm, she seemed to be taking in the very vibrations of the notes, she seemed even in her neonatal limitations to take pure joy in the sounds. She early demonstrated a sweet and lilting voice and a passionate love for music which has never been usurped - she is currently majoring in music, in fact.

In the third grade she was diagnosed with a learning difficulty, and she applied herself to overcoming it with quiet diligence.

When she was four years old, we hosted a Backyard Bible Club in our home, and the children made little cloth books to help them remember the essentials of the Gospel. She was sitting in my lap one evening, she wanted me to help her remember the order of the story so she could tell her grandparents, who were coming to visit the next day. We went through the story a couple of times, she was really very good at telling it -

On impulse, I said, "Some day, Christy, you will want to give your heart to Jesus, too, just like it talks about in the little book story you've learned." Her little face, always so expressive, told me everything. "You want to do it now?" and she nodded. And there in my lap, she made a simple, direct offering of herself to God.

May God honor that offering, and my dedication of her and her sister from the womb, to His service, His glory, and bring her to the Fullness of His Kingdom and the Joy of His service. May her life become a living epistle, bringing many to the Kingdom.

Life begins at 50 -

The Tribunal's Declaration of Nullity, received a little over a month ago, has had a wholly unexpected effect on my spirit, on the way I see myself and my own life; it is as if Mother Church, speaking through Her tribunal, has declared not only the attempted marriage null, but also the scorn, ridicule and contempt experienced for those years, which has followed me as a foul oppression even twenty years after we separated (January 16, 1988).

All of life is sweeter, and I feel liberated - and the difference is being seen, and responded to, by my local friends.

I'll be starting Graduate Studies from Franciscan University soon - within the next week or two, I think -

So much to look forward to - ! So much to be grateful for, to rejoice in!

and here is another poem from Joseph Pearce's Flowers of Heaven -

Vox Ultima Crucis

Tarry no longer; toward thine heritage
Hast on thy way, and be of right good cheer.
Go each day onward on thy pilgrimage;
Think how short time thou has abiden here.
Thy place is bygged above the stars clear,
Noon earhly palace wrought in so stately wise.
Come on, my friend, my brother most entere!
For thee I offered my blood in sacrifice.

(John Lydgate (ca. 1370-1450)

A different sort of epiphany

According to the dictionary, an epiphany is not only a manifestation (from whence we get the word "Epiphany" for this Feast of the Three Kings) but it is also an unexpected revelation. I had two of those today - one a joy, the other humiliating.

The first came as I sat, knitting and pondering this new spirit I've been experiencing in recent weeks. It is hard to describe, but suddenly I have felt as if I have awakened from a very bad dream to find that life is sweet and full of promise, and that I am lovely and lovable, worthy of all beauty and goodness -

and I realized today that, in declaring the nullity of my marriage to my first husband (I will for the moment refrain from sarcastic nicknames), Mother Church has in a very real way nullified the abuse I endured for those years. The power of the sarcasm and contempt, the sneers and neglects, the "Don't touch me! You know that bothers me!" - all the occurrences of "I'm busy" (watching tv?) "don't bother me - no, I don't want to ... (talk, go for a walk, sit together on the couch, hold hands, whatever) - all the manifestations of utter, contemptuous misogyny that I was convinced were personal, deserved, due to my own unworthiness -----

evaporated in the warmth of the words - "we decree the publication of the sentence declaring the nullity of the marriage...."

I didn't realize how deeply I had absorbed Dan's loathing, until now.

And that leads to other ponderings about the power of men - but that will be fodder for another post, another day -

The humiliating epiphany is the realization that I selfishly, thoughtlessly, desperately clung to my men friends while going through this process - a truly uncomfortable attachment for them, I realize now - drawing on their strength and dignity and approval and affection and their very being to cling like a life preserver when I thought I would drown in the misery of reliving the marriage, while working on the questionnaires. I think they have understood, though, and have forgiven me - and I pray God bless them abundantly in recompense for their generosity of goodwill toward me during those bleak, agonizing (are there enough adjectives in the dictionary?) horrid months.

and that leads to other ponderings... etc. (wink)

On the Feast of the Epiphany -

I can't help thinking of this glorious poem, by Christina Rossetti:

In the bleak midwinter,
frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron,
water like a stone;
snow had fallen, snow on snow,
snow on snow,
in the bleak midwinter,
long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold him
nor earth sustain;
heaven and earth shall flee away
when he comes to reign:
in the bleak midwinter
a stable place sufficed
the Lord God incarnate,
Jesus Christ.

Angels and archangels
may have gathered there
cherubim and seraphim
thronged the air;
but his mother only,
in her maiden bliss,
worshiped the beloved
with a kiss.

What can I give him,
poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd,
I would bring a lamb;
if I were a wise man,
I would do my part;
yet what I can I give him
give my heart.

---

Words: Christina Rossetti, 1872

Happy New Year, Everyone -

Sinus infection has me feeling yucky, but otherwise the New Year is off to a wonderful start.

I am going to ask tmsharel and Karl to take their little mutual admiration society elsewhere. Karl has found my email link at the top of the page and is now plying me with emails detailing personal and private things that are none of my business. A friend has taken a google look, and Karl is, to put it mildly, obsessed, and has been for years.

I pity his ex-wife and his children, being humiliated with such unmanly behavior. I am angry at Karl for violating the sacred trust given him in his children. I am angry at him for continuing to burden me with long diatribes that violate the sanctity of marriage. I am angriest of all because he calculates to place his children in the middle and to insist they take sides.

This is not mentally or spiritually healthy behavior. I suspect it is only the tip of the iceburg.
This little melodrama is tedious, and is hopeless of a satisfactory resolution.

Final post for 2007

I spent today in a glorious way. I got out around lunchtime and ran errands - put packages in the mail, picked up my silk blouse from the cleaner's, had a bite of lunch -

Visited a local discount shop (SteinMart, if you must know) and decided that commercial tastes leave a great deal to be desired, these days. Why do plus sized women's clothes have to be so horribly ugly? It's bad enough they are sooo B-I-G, surely they could be in reasonable prints and colors and fabrics and even shapes - not these garish multi-colored bizarro prints in weird manmade fibers looking like something out of a 60s acid trip. I wanted a decent, 3/4 length or long-sleeved top in bright jewel tones, not orange, not black leopard or psychadelic throwback insanity. I gave up and left the store with all my money unspent.

I went into Fresh Market to satisfy a week-old craving for Brussels sprouts. All they had was tiny ones about the size of a marble, on a stem - one stem left. I bought a small triangle of Brie and a loaf of sourdough bread.

Then I remembered - I'm still not in the habit of remembering the used bookstore up at the end of the highway - and I do love a good browse in a used bookstore. There, I hit paydirt. I found a book on philosophy that I'll be able to use in school, a book on the sermons of John Henry Newman, one on herb gardens from Rodale Press. I found music - a book of piano sonatas, books on organ music (someday I will have an organ to learn to play) - novels by Rosamunde Pilcher, whose personal note to me arrived on Christmas Eve (I wrote her several months ago, on impulse, after reading Coming Home and The Shell Seekers and she actually write me back!) and Rumer Godden and George Eliot and - oh, goodness how can I keep track of it all!

I came away with two massive shopping bags full of the most wonderful books - for $31! Now, with a cup of tea, and the living room vacuumed and the trash carried out, I am ready to bid the old year farewell.

It's been a rich and satisfying year. Even a glorious but unrequited love has enriched and blessed my life immensely - and that is the worst thing that has happened this year. There have been new friends adding richness to an already full circle of good friends - discoveries of new gifts and new callings. There have been "love letters from God" in the form of bluebirds and deer in the back yard, rainbows, and glorious rains. There have been hours of satisfying work, and a great many pats on the back from people whose opinions matter to me.

There is much to look forward to in 2008. I'll be starting school in a couple of weeks, and that will be a great adventure. There will be new things to write, new friends to love -

I always want to end a post with something wise, but I'm sadly lacking in that department tonight. I'm simply filled with contentment, and looking forward to what God has waiting for me in the new year.

God bless you all, and give you great joy this coming year.

If you want your comment posted -

Sign it.

I've gotten still another unsigned Anonymous comment this morning in response to Karl. Writer, you want to try again, put a name to it, I'll publish it.

However, I'll also tell you (again) that I left out part of his original post which includes identifying information about his ex-wife. And I'll tell you that you've only heard one side of the story: his. And I'll probably say a few other things that would just make everyone mad, but that I think would need to be said in the interest of fairness. Because this post I'm holding in reserve smacks too much of posts I've read on single's sites, praising a man you don't know in order to impress him with your own loyalty and "admiration."

Look. I've already pointed out that maybe Karl's ex-wife isn't presenting herself for Communion. or that maybe she and her second husband are living as brother and sister - that these things are Not. Our. Business. Nobody has bothered to reply -
and what needs to be said is, "Yep, there's a lot more to the story here than we've been told."

But you're right - Karl needs to come Home to the Church. Not because the Church needs him, mind you, but because he needs the Church. He needs to come home to the Church because the Church is true.