Saturday, January 15, 2011

This and That

God is up to something.  I'm not sure what yet.  Several weeks ago, two separate women asked me to serve as their spiritual director.  I thought perhaps they had been told to do so by someone else.  Nope.  Apparently the Lord had put it on their hearts to do so.  A week ago, I received the same request from another woman.  Last weekend, I also served (for the first time) as a director for a silent retreat.  That particular experience was really good.  Being a director was almost like being on retreat myself.  I'm not sure why God has prompted all these people to come to me, but he has.  I suppose the reason will become clear eventually

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My hatred of winter notwithstanding, I did find it rather amusing to join Deacon Nathan Sparks for an afternoon of ice fishing recently.  He caught one trout and let one get away.  I caught none.  Given the various ways in which one might go about catching a fish, ice fishing is likely to be the most uneventful while simultaneously demanding the most physical exertion.  I'm not sure I will make a habit of ice fishing, after discovering that it consists mainly in boring several holes in eight to ten inch thick ice only to stand around and occasionally prevent them from freezing over.

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When I went to Borders to use my holiday gift cards, I had hoped to find some material a little lighter and happier than what I generally read.  I failed.  Among my purchases were The Picture of Dorian Grey, The Idiot, and A Clockwork Orange.  By the end of the day I will have finished reading A Clockwork Orange.  I mentioned this to a parishioner recently who was horrified.  Apparently it was a very offensive film.  I can see why, the book is written in the first person, and the fifteen-year-old narrator (Alex) employs a fictional slang that anesthetizes the reader to the horror of the acts the narrator perpetrates.  One is never necessarily sure that what one thinks is happening is actually happening.  The second and third sections of the book beg important questions about the nature of freedom and its consequences.  It is definitely an interesting read, but not  necessarily bedtime reading for the faint of heart or squeamish.  It was my habit in major seminary to read some good old tedious Russian Literature as a way of coping with the winter.  Perhaps the same will work in Rapid City.  Next on the agenda: Dostoevsky's The Idiot.

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Of all the hateful games in the world, Buck Euchre must be the worst.  I learned this game over the Christmas break, and I have played it at least once a week since then.  I don't especially like it, as it takes forever, and winning seems to have little to do with skill.  Moreover, it is the kind of game that requires the losers to pay the winner.  It is not gambling.  It is more like a tax on the stupid.  I commented to those with whom I played last night that playing the game leads me to believe that I have to buy my friends, as they seem uninterested in learning a different (cheaper) game.  To my own amazement, I finally won a game.  I am inclined to never play again.

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A man at the hospital asked recently invited me to his Church so that I could "actually worship God."  Perhaps he was trying to be funny.  Had I not been there to pray over the body of his dead mother, I would likely have had some very interesting things to say to him.  I am left to wonder why they called a priest at all.  I don't expect to be asked to do the funeral.

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As I was praying in the ER with this same family I mentioned above, the lullaby that announces the birth of a new baby throughout the hospital suddenly played.  The sun sets and the sun also rises.  Life goes on.

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All things remaining equal, Monday will mark my final pheasant hunt of the season.  I am terribly excited to go, this time with the priests in my fraternity group.  I am a little concerned about the idea of all of us carrying a firearm, but after several trips hunting with teenage boys, it is not likely to be more frightening.  So long as Winter cooperates, it will be a glorious day.

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My new chest waders arrived a few days ago, but with no boots.  I will need to purchase something that I can wear on my feet while wading.  Any suggestions?  Now all I need is for the snow to melt, and no trout will be safe from me.  I am certain of it.  It is going to be a great summer.

2 comments:

  1. I love this post, Father -- glimpses into the life and mind of a friend and priest are appreciated! I need to remember on my own blog that posts don't always have to be "about something"...

    ReplyDelete

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