Mrs. Curley left with her parents for Florida to visit grandparents this morning. She took two of the kids with her, leaving me four boys and the youngest girl. They had gone to an earlier Mass and were still packing as we left for the 10:00 Mass. My two youngest whined for their Mother most of the way to Mass. They begged me to slow down so they wouldn't be getting so far away from their mother so quickly.
This afternoon we played some baseball in the front yard. Somewhere in the move here two years ago our bats got lost. So we use an old part of an oar we found hanging around. The handle is taped tightly to lessen the sting. Using the oar is actually good. Even with my mightiest swing I don't think I could reach the street using the oar.
During our playing, one of my sons was having real trouble throwing the ball straight to me. I was getting frustrated until I realized that while I spend a good deal of time with my boys working and doing other things, I haven't spent much time with them throwing the baseball, at least not since we moved to Bethany.
Friday we put on a little show for Nanny and Grampy. Some of the stuff we had done before for our own enjoyment (see this post.)
I was reminded today when reading this post over at Openbook that I was going to re-read "He Leadeth Me" for Lent. I had first read "With God in Russia" some years ago. I wondered why Fr. Ciszak's simply told the 'facts' in this book-not much as to what he was thinking and going through spiritually during his captivity. Apparently he wasn't ready to write it yet. He covers the same ground in "He Leadeth Me" except from the spritual side. It is powerful and at times surprising. Total dependence on God and true humility takes on a new meaning. I will start it this week.
So far during Lent I have been doing penance by reading yet another Flannery O'Connor novel, "The Violent Bear it Away", which I just finished. (I just don't understand why I continue to read when I complain after every story.) But now it is time to get serious about Lenten reading. I have been too lazy. More later tonight, the rosary calls...
From Bethany, the small holding in Bethune...Oremus pro invicem!
1 comment:
I think that one was worth it for the "big finish". The one line that made it all worthwhile, the one about the terrible speed of God's mercy.
Anne Lamott, who I'm definitely not a fan of, said, "I recall reading Flannery O'Connor's The Violent Bear it Away and, truth be told, not enjoying the ride too much. But the ending! Wow...what a powerful ending..."
Mama T, of "Summa Mamas" (who I am a fan of) writes, "To Rayber, the picture of the modern, rational man, such love is madness. It's inconceivable. It's absurd. It's just not USEFUL. And as I read those passages over and over and over I realized: THAT'S what the saints have that I don't have. That violent, inconceivable, absurd, non-utilitarian love of God. They have given themselves over to it, let themselves be swept up in it. Just for the love of Him. Just because. They aren't worried about appearing foolish. They just love."
Flannery herself wrote about it: "One thing I observe about the title is that the general reaction is to think that it has an Old Testament flavor. Even when they read the quotation, the fact that these are Christ's words makes no great impression. That this is the violence of love, of giving more than the law demands, of an asceticism like John the Baptist's, but in the face of which even John is less than the least in the kingdom - all this is overlooked. I am speaking of the verse apart from my book; in the book I fail to make the title's significance clear, but the title is the best thing about the book. I had never paid much attention to that verse either until I read that it was one of the Eastern fathers' favorite passages - St. Basil, I think. Those desert fathers interest me very much."
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