Ready or not

 'Tis the season...of Advent. It's a season of preparation for Christmas, as Lent is a season of preparation for Easter. Like Lent, it's a penitential season, and the liturgical color is purple. The advent wreath candles are purple, except for the third one, which is rose. Both Lent and Advent have a rose-colored Sunday, a break in the mournful mood. 

For Advent, the third Sunday is Gaudete Sunday, and, in Lent, the fourth Sunday is Laetare Sunday. Gaudete and Laetare are both translated as Rejoice. Gaudete comes from St. Paul's exhortation, "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice!" Laetere comes from the prophet Isaiah's instruction, "Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad for her, all you who love her."

But I am still in the first week of Advent, a purple (or violet) week. I went to mass and saw the Advent candle lit there, and I also have, for many years, had an Advent wreath at home. In this picture of my Advent wreath, two of the purple candles look pink, while the rose candle (across from the lit candle) looks purple or gray.

In real life, the colors were correct. The center, Christ, candle is white. It is lit on Christmas or Christmas Eve. 

I've heard of Catholic Churches having a midnight mass, so that it starts just as Christmas Day starts. I don't know if St. Joseph, my parish church, does that. Last year at Christmas I was mostly missing church because my depression and anxiety made it hard for me to go anywhere. I still have some level of that issue, just not as severe.

On this first Sunday, the Scripture readings were about the coming of Christ in glory—the Second Coming. His first coming was in humility, with his glory veiled. At his second coming, his glory will be revealed. That's what the word apocalypse means—revelation. And the word advent means coming.

During Advent, we prepare for both comings of Christ. The readings this Sunday focused on the need to be alert for the Second Coming. No one knows the hour or the day* when Christ will return, so we just have to always be ready. It could happen at any moment, any day now. We need to keep that in mind.

I can't honestly say I feel prepared, if being prepared means achieving a high degree of sanctification. When you are expecting guests, you prepare by cleaning your house. When I am expecting guests, I become anxious and stressed out and accomplish nothing. But I ask some loving members of my family for help, and they come over and clean. In terms of preparing for Christ's coming, I am as effective as I am in preparing for guests. Fortunately, I can ask for help there, too, and that's what I'll have to rely on. 

That's why one of my dearest Bible verses is, "A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out." This little light of mine is so very little—a smoldering, dimly burning wick, but he won't snuff it out. 

*During the 1990s I talked with a young woman who listened to and believed a radio evangelist names Harold Camping, who was predicting when Christ would return. I started to quote this verse to her, and she interrupted me, "I know, I know. No one knows the day or the hour, but he knows the month and the year." As it turned out, he didn't.

Mystic sweet communion

Well, I did not make it to All Souls. I had to work at my office in Bellingham that day, which meant a half-hour drive home, 5:00-5:30, and the service started at 6:00, so I would have been home for 15 minutes and left again. Days with a commute are also more tiring. I decided already around 3:00 in the afternoon that when I got home I would stay home. All Souls is not a Holy Day of Obligation.

A few days later, I was mindful that it was the 16th anniversary of my oldest brother's death. Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen. Praying for and being in fellowship with my loved ones who have died was one of the things that attracted me to Catholicism.

A Catholic Facebook friend had this quote by Pope Benedict XVI on her page:

The belief that love can reach into the afterlife, that reciprocal giving and receiving is possible, in which our affection for one another continues beyond the limits of death — this has been a fundamental conviction of Christianity throughout the ages, and it remains a source of comfort today.

When my brother died, and later my parents, I missed them and I also still wanted to show my love for them. Catholic practice provides more room for me to be aware of my fellowship with them and to give love that they can receive.

Prior to being received into full communion with the Catholic Church, I felt this, but my own tradition did not address it. Catholics, in addition to praying for those who have gone ahead, also ask them to pray for us. While I was reading a Chaim Potok novel, I read a scene when a woman was talking to her dead brother and said, "Be an intercessor for me." I thought, if Jewish people do this, then I have more confidence in it, since Judaism was the faith that Jesus practiced. It indicated to me that the practice existed even prior to the Incarnation and was not a new invention by the church at some point in its history.

I always loved the verse in the hymn "The Church's One Foundation" that says:

Yet she on earth hath union

With God the Three in One,

And mystic sweet communion

With those whose rest is won.

"Mystic sweet communion" — I love it.

Hallows

I'm glad to say that I made it to church this evening for the service for All Saints. It was bilingual, English and Spanish. On Sundays, we have separate English and Spanish services. I suppose if not for Vatican II we could all be together in Latin. But I won't go there.

Days of the week

 I think I've mentioned how on Fridays I keep checking my phone, dashboard, and calendars to verify that it really is Friday, because it seems too good to be true. The odds against it are 6:1. Or would it be 7:1? Trying to figure that out would be like math.

But today is a Monday, and this evening I thought, "Is it really still Monday? Can it be?" Not that it's too good to be true but that it seems like it's been Monday for a long time. Too long. It's taking up more than its share of the week.

I'm feeling anxious (een beetje bang, as my great-grandfather would say) and a little down. Am I regressing back into my Slough of Despond? Am I far from the peaceful shore? Sinking to rise no more? I hope not.

My sister has a certain level of Seasonal Affective Disorder, and I probably do too. We are past the fall equinox, so our diurnal cycles contain more darkness than light. I'm surprised I'm feeling this (if that's what it is) because I hated this summer. It was hot and dry all the time. Yards and plants were dying of thirst, and it was unpleasant to be outdoors. Bleah. So I welcomed the coming of fall. Which was late in coming this year, by the way. Summer kept dragging on, outstaying its welcome by weeks. But now the increasing darkness is probably getting me down.

Also, as my sister also has observed, it's a sad time of remembrance for our family because my oldest brother died on November 4. I am not always conscious that this anniversary is looming, but they say your body remembers, even if you don't.

Tomorrow will be my first All Saints Day as a Catholic. And the day after that will be All Souls Day, which is a time to remember the faithful departed. I am still learning how to be a Catholic. My church is having mass at 7:00 p.m. on All Saints Day and 6:00 p.m. on All Souls Day. All Saints Day is a Holy Day of Obligation, meaning I have a duty to go to mass. 

In theory I should be able to make both services. The only obstacle is myself. Yesterday, I planned to go mass, but then I just couldn't get up. So now I am planning to go tomorrow evening and the evening after. I need to pray for the strength to go.

It's not mass in particular that's hard for me to attend. I have a great reluctance to go anywhere. This is why one of my verses of comfort is "he will not break a bruised reed or quench a smoldering wick." The prophet Isaiah says that (chapter 42, verse 3) about God's suffering servant, and the Gospel of Matthew repeats it (chapter 12, verse 20), applying it to our Lord. Indeed, there are many verses in the Bible about God's love and compassion for the weak. And I definitely fall into that category.

Even the great Apostle Paul said "I can will what is right, but I cannot do it" (Romans 7:18).

It's time for me to go to bed, but my puppy Rosamund is asleep on my foot, and that makes me not want to move. I'll browse the internet for a while.

Catching up

Long time, no blog. I did go through something along the lines of a nervous breakdown earlier this year. Thanks to the miracles of modern medicine, I've been climbing out of the hole. "If you're happy and you know it, it's your meds."

But the biggest and bestest happening in my life since my last blog post is the addition of a third puppy to my household. Meet Rosamund:

And here are the three canine siblings this afternoon, enjoying the gas heater stove:

That's Rosamund, Benedict, and Beatrice. That's all for now.

Another day, another chewed-up dollar

We had a little more snow today, which is one of those things that makes you say "ugh." It is forecast to freeze tonight and tomorrow night, but tomorrow day and the rest of the week it should be above freezing, which will allow the snow to melt. Rain most of next week, too, but that's normal for the Pacific Northwest. 

When one leads a fairly boring life, what else is there to write about than the weather? At least today I got up and stayed awake all day. I didn't do much other than browse the web and read a Georgette Heyer novel (A Civil Contract), but at least I wasn't snoring around the clock.

The most exciting occurrence was when my puppy Benedict got ahold of a paper piece of legal tender and started to chew it up. I was in the kitchen when I heard some crinkling and tearing noises. He often finds some piece of paper or a receipt or something and chews that up, but I just took a quick look and saw him destroying a large (to me) amount of money in the form of one bill. I yelled, "Noooo! No!" and ran to rescue it. Benedict ran in circles, evading my grasp, having a fun game of keep-away. We play this game a lot, when he chews on something that I'm worried will harm him, like a piece of foil or plastic, or a toothpick. The only way for me to win is to get him a treat. As soon as he sees me head that way, he drops whatever he has and runs after me. Beatrice comes running, too, because: treats. I don't hand it out until I find and confiscate what he was chewing on. In the case of a toothpick, that can be a challenge, but in the case of this piece of money I found it immediately, then gave them their treats. Little squares of freeze-dried beef liver. They love it.

Goofy little dogs.

Thrills and chills

2022 is off to a cold start, and 2021 had a cold ending. Christmas Day we had snow falling and the northeast wind blowing, to the point that my in-town and out-in-the-county family contingents had to meet separately, rather than drive through the drifts. We got together as one big group on January 2. 

We had more snow this week, and then some rain and snow mixed. The infamous wintry mix. Temperatures are hovering around freezing so that things melt then freeze again, making for smooth, slippery surfaces. The infamous black ice (actually, transparent ice, showing the black road surface underneath).

It was back to work this week, but then I was sick yesterday and today. Pretty much slept all day both days, and woke up a little while in the evenings. I feel quite cold right now; I don't know if it's because I'm having chills or because the cold from outside is seeping into the house. It will be good to get under a quilt again when I go to bed. I'm glad tomorrow is Saturday. I can sleep some more.

One's blog entry can't be very exciting when all one's done lately is sleep. So the "thrills" of my title is ironic, but the "chills" is for real.