The Resurrection as told by Maria Valtorta

"In the clear sky, where to the east there is now a completely rosy zone, which is spreading out more and more widely, but where, however, there are no sunbeams as yet, a very bright meteor appears, coming from unknown depths, and it descends like a sphere of fire, of unsustainable splendor, followed by a glowing trail, which perhaps is nothing by the persistence of its brightness in our retina. It descends at a very high speed towards the earth, shedding such an intense phantasmagoric light, frightful in its beauty that the rosy light of dawn vanishes, outshone by such a white incandescence.

The guards, astonished, raise their heads, also because with the light there comes a mighty, harmonious, solemn rumble that fills the whole of Creation with its roar. It comes from heavenly depths. It is the alleluia, the angelical glory,, that follows the Spirit of the Christ, which is returning to its glorious flesh.

The meteor clashes on the useless closure of Sepulchre, tears it off, throws it on the ground, and it strikes with terror and noise the guards places as jailers of the Master of the Universe, producing with its return to earth, a new earthquake as it had caused when this Spirit of the Lord fled from the earth. It enters the Sepulchre that becomes all bright with its indescribable light, and while it remains suspendd in the still air, the Spirit is infused again into the Body, motionless under the funereal bandages.

All this takes place not in a minute, but in a fraction of a minute. So fast have been the appearance, descent, penetration and the disappearance of the Light of God.

The "I want" of the divine Spirit to its cold Body is noiseless. It is uttered by the Essence to the Immobile Matter. But no word is perceived by the human ear. The Flesh receives the order and obeys with a deep sigh.... Nothing else for some minutes.

Under the Sudarium and the Shroud, the glorious Body is recomposed in eternal beauty, it awakes form the sleep of death, it comes back from the nothing in which it was, it lives after being dead. The heart certainly awakes and gives its first throb, it propels the remaining frozen blood through the veins and at once creates the full measure of it in the empty arteries, in the immobile lungs in the dark brain, and brings back warmth, health strength, thought.

Another moment and there is sudden movement under the heavy shroud. It is so sudden that, from the moment He certainly moves His folded arms to the moment He appears standing, imposing, splendid in His garment, is supernaturally handsome and mahesty, with a gravity that changes and elevates Him, and yet leaves HIm exactly himself, the eye has hardly time to follow the development. And no it admires Him: so different from what the mind remembers, tidied up, without wounds or blood, only blazing with light that gushes from the five wounds and issues from every pore of His skin.

When he moves, coming toward the exit, and the eye can see beyond his brightness, two most beautiful brilliance but similar to stars compared to the sun, appear, on on each side, prostrated in the adoration of their God, Who passes by enveloped by His Light, beautifying with his smile, and he goes out, leaving the funereal grotto going back to his walk on earth that awakes out of joy and shines in its dews, in the hues of herbs and roses, in the countless corrolas of apple trees that open, by a wonder, to the early dun that kisses them and to the eternal Sun Who proceeds under them.

Jesus raises His hand and blossom them and then, while the birds are singing more loudly and the wind carries its scents, He disappears from sight..."

Stations of the Cross

Growing up, on Fridays in Catholic school, we went to the Stations. For those of you who are not Catholic, this a prayer service, where we stop at a picture of each section of the Passion and reflect on what happened - on how Christ handled it - and how it applies to us. I was always struck by the falling. Jesus falls teh first time, Jesus falls the second time, Jesus falls the thrid time and Simon is asked to help carry the cross. It is difficult to imagine how difficult this would have been.

What I can't help thinking is how difficult it must have been for the angels, who had been assigned to watch over Jesus, seeing him in pain and not being able to do anything about it.

Max Lucado has a book, "Six Hours One Friday" which talks about the Passion from the perspective of different characters in the story. I have always found it moving.

As my Easter gift to you, I am going to post the Easter story from Valtorte - my favorite of all accounts. It was in reading these books that my faith was transformed - into something much more intimate.

Prayer Meeting

I would rather endure a root canal, than have to come to my family and tell them I am i over my head. I hate being a burden and I hate even more asking for help. These are serious character flaws - and perhaps by the time I am 80 I will be past this - or I may never say " help I've fallen and I can't get up" - I'll just lay there - waiting to regain strength and pick myself up.

Anyway - that being said - there will be no strike. What I got instead was a committment from my family to be more aware and help pitch in.

Today we celebrate Good Friday - and the timing couldn't be better to take a minute and reflect on how much things have changed over Lent - and what a blessing it is to be broken and forgiven.

Hope you all have a Happy and Blessed Easter

Perspective

I have been on this "thing" lately where I am thinking a lot about being Catholic - maybe it is Lent, maybe it is the way my life is going right now - and these thoughts are trying to kick my stubborn behind back into line. I believe in service - in doing for others - in working hard - but sometimes it feels like my desire to serve is taken for granted - and that my hard work is not appreciated.

My job, as the mom, is to enable my kids to live independently - and contribute to society - not to be the people who constantly say that something is not "their job" or have a hundred excuses why things didn't get done. I am not doing a very good job of holding them accountable these days - mostly because I feel overwhelmed - but also because I am not very good at remembering my own stuff and keeping other people accountable on top of working full time. We have come to an impasse in my house, where each person points blame onto another person - and I end up in the middle trying to keep the peace, while trying to be fair.

There is not just one person who doesn't carry their part of the load - on a given day it might be any one of the five of us. But the reality is that for months now, I have spent most of my free time cleaning, fixing, transporting, shopping and generally caring for the family. I can count on one hand the number of days I have not spent working around the house. It is mentally exhausting - especially when there is the undercurrent of dissatisfaction with the way things are.

It hit me with clarity yesterday, when Jake came to help me move something out of my car and he asked me when I was going to clean my car out. Most of the things in my car are left overs from transporting kids - but his perception was that the mess was my responsibility. Big red flag

When I come home and there is a pile of dishes or pile of chicken feed or three day old pile of laundry or dirty dishes piled up next to the computer and layer of dust on the carpet, I feel used and unappreciated. It is one thing to leave for work - leave an empty house - and come home to find it in the same state. Quite another to come home to the house worse off nearly every evening when I come home. I have asked people to do certain tasks - they don't do them and the result is that I have to do it in a rush - and that stinks. I have decided that as a family we have to deal with this - or I am taking my clothes and moving out to the old shed at the corner of the property - because at least I could keep it clean.

Step up to the Plate

I looked at another job a couple of months ago - and frankly the idea of an extra 40 grand to spend each year was pretty appealing.

But that is not where my heart lies - I like rescuing - I like fixing - I like giving hope to someone who feels that diabetes will be the end of life as they know it.

I have been really drained lately. Not from anything anyone has done wrong - but I tend to get in these modes where I start to think I am in charge of making the universe run smoothly - and I take everything so serious. This tends to happen when things fall through the cracks - and deadlines are missed because I lost track of something. Anyway - this in not what the post is supposed to be about - so I will stop digressing.

Today I had a meeting with another provider. You may remember the little gal who came in all devastated that her gestational diabetes had killed her baby. As a result of that incident, I now have the opportunity to speak to the providers( doctors and midwives) and replace some misunderstanding with truth. When a person has consistantly high fasting blood sugar levels, it is typically a metabolic issue, requiring treatment with diet, and if diet doesn't work pretty quickly, then treatment with medication is indicated. Failing this trial of diet change doesn't mean the person "cheated", it means they need medication. Some people miss this - and want to assume that every person who shows up with an elevated blood sugar is feasting on biscuits and sweet tea - but that just isn't the case.

I don't need another project particularly - but this opportunity to help dispel the myths and shed light on the physiological processes and metabolic interactions really excites me. I like physiology - the intricate interaction of hormones and receptors and nutrition and the very cells of the body. It is in looking at these delicate balances that I have concluded God is truly a craftsman. More importantly, I love to see change in a system - especially when it is change for the better. It is a chance to place blame squarely on metabolism - and off the shoulders of an expecting mother.

And in the end, isn't that what we offer people in the art of medicine: hope

Weekend garden update

Roma tomatoes - potted and planted - check
fertilizer around all the new fruit trees - check
rabbit manure on my rose bushes - check
wheat grass and collard greens planted along the fenceline of the goat pen - check
everbearing strawberries - rescued from the dogs and replanted - check

Now that my brother isn't coming for a while, I have to get back to the wood clearing myself so I can get my garden in. I cannot believe it has been a year and that still isn't done - where does the time go!!!

The peach tree that we planted at the end of the fall last year, may infact get some peaches this year. There are some fuzzy bumps right at the end of the flowers - so I am very hopeful. My highbush blueberries will produce well - there are lots of blossoms that the goats didn't chew off during their escapades into the yard. The apple and cherry trees look good as well - now to take the grapevines that cover most of our chain link fence - and talk them into producing grapes where I want them - instead of willy nilly all over the yard.

Baby goat Luke made a couple of trips into the front yard - where he determined that he prefers lasst years pine needles to the fresh grash and raspberry brambles we offered him. Once he is eating solid food, it will make our lives much easier!

Next weekend is Easter - and there won't be too much time for yard work - but I am hoping to expand the goats browsing area - since they have totally cleaned out the brush from where they are now. But as always, a work in progress. I guess the gardening has gotten even more important to me as I spend every work day talking about things like hidden sugars, artificial additives, pesticides and using things you could grow in your own garden. Seems dishonest to preach that, and live on everything store bought.

Happy Birthday Baby

In about twenty minutes, Justin's birthday will be over. It has been a good day - and even though it was a lazy one, we had a nice outing to see V for Vendetta.

Last night, driving home from Chris's house, NPR had a special about pivotal moments in shows.

And the scene from Man of La Mancha came on the radio....and I was reduced to tears.

I remember clearly the moment...the same moment that transpires in the movie and the emotion of the scene so nearly identical, that I cry every time. Don Quixote professes his love to Dulcinea, tells her that she is the lady for whom he has fought all his battles. She looks at him and asks what he thinks he sees. Can he not see that she is the town whore, and not the lady her perceives her to be? She says that she is trash, that she is unolveable - that she feels like nothing. Don Quixote looks her in the eye, and says : not to me.

There was a moment, when my outside was still functioning, but my soul was hurt and bleeding. Justin took my face in his hands and in words too precious to repeat, he told me that despite what others had seen, or how others had treated me, I was deserving of someone to love me. I was in the midst of my third divorce - third - three men offered to marry me and then once they were married to me, couldn't wait to get loose of me. Apparently he didn't see the same thing I did. I lowered my eyes - not too many men on the market for overweight mothers of three kids - and I felt like nothing, And he said: not to me.

We all have our faults, we all have our bad days. But for the gift of someone who actually gets me - and loves me anyway, I am eternally greatful. Thank you baby - for believing in me when I could not. Happy birthday.


PS: the perfect gift for a horror movie buff: 50 classic horror films on a 14 DVD set accompanied by a 50 movie Sci Fi pack. B movies - here we come.

Dear Stupid Freaking Possum:

For nearly two weeks now you have traveled through our woods at intervals throughout the night causing the dogs to bark like the sky is falling. I am tired, I need a full night's sleep and if you don't stop waking me up every two hours I am going to come outside and shoot you myself.

Okay - back to sleep deprived sanity now.

Put your thinking caps on!

Justin's birthday is Saturday - and although he updated his Amazon wish list, I am still at a loss.

Any suggestions ( keep it clean - my family reads this!)

These foolish things remind me of you....

I don't know what it is - but I have passed "it" on to at least two of my kids, and possibly the third. There is this intensity of emotions - little things that just send me over the edge and start my little brain ruminating over and over agian about why someoen would choose to act in a way that hurts my feelings. Sometimes my little brain makes a leap - and I miss. I see my two older kids have this same problem - being overly empathetic - and overly sympathetic. It is the reason we pick up stray dogs, and why I used to pick up stray boyfriends instead of choosing the stable ones. Why we feel like rescue is our middle name. If there is a switch to turn this off, let me know, because there are days I would like to feel a little less intense about my life.

I have a girlfriend, who has been my friend, I thought, for about 10 years now. Twice now she has borrowed money - once when she overspent at her wedding, and a second time when she needed it for legal fees. Both times I was tight financially, but managed to get her the money. Now that she is obligated to start paying it back, she doesn't call me at all - and apparently we aren't friends anymore. That pains me more than I can say - and I feel used and taken.

But "it" can be mentally and physically exhausting. I have felt so tired, ever since I waited all day for my brother to show on Saturday, and he didn't - and the hours ticked by and there was no call. Then the anguish of hearing him say those things about my family - mixed with teh innate desire to ring his neck. You know, messing with the cubs set well with me.

And Bear and my mom helped me regain some perspective last night. When you deal with someone you love, you want to think the best of them - think that they would be honest and have your interest at heart. But that was not the case - and for the second time in a year, I have given my brother a way out of the holler in West Virginia - out of unemployment - and he has chosen to stay. Fool me twice, shame on me.