A Special Memorial

Today’s stream-of-consciousness prompt was “me-” either by itself or as the beginning of another word. The first words I thought of were French — mentir [to lie], mensonge [lie] — also the words “mendacity” and “mendacious,” but as my blog is usually truthful to a fault, I did not want to write about those, either! I have a memory from this week 5 years ago of making a Funfetti cake in honor of my patron saint, whose special memorial feast day is today. Her name is Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, and she was a nun who lived and died near the end of the 19th century. She is often known as The Little Flower. 

She died at a mere 24 years of age but is considered a Doctor of the Church because of her teaching of the “Little Way.” I wrote a poem, meritorious or not, inspired by her today:

May the scent of roses guide
Through these darkened paths,
May all friends in Heaven pray
With strong love that lasts,
Send to me a heavenly rose
With aroma sweet,
Gentle guide with me always
Giving peace complete.

Anything Good?

Today is the feast of the apostle Saint Bartholomew / Nathaniel, which inspired me to write this haibun:

I sit crying due to unexplained yet expected emotional pain. It’s not a surprise, but there is little I can do to prepare. The only way out is through. The only way through is to believe that some greater good may, through grace, arise from this half-dead and deadly place. “Can these bones live?”* “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”** Faith gives an unequivocal assent, even if one must wait for it.

 

greater things to see:
angels descending, ascending
as the journey goes

   * Ezekiel 37
   ** John 1:45-51

image found here

Books are Friends

Another quotation from the amazing Archbishop Fulton Sheen for One-Liner Wednesday! 

Books are the most wonderful friends in the world. When you meet them and pick them up, they are always ready to give you a few ideas. When you put them down, they never get mad; when you take them up again, they seem to enrich you all the more.

What not to do

For One-Liner Wednesday, I have a quotation from the great Archbishop Fulton Sheen. This is taken from my daily book of his quotations.

We hate others and call it ‘zeal;’ we flatter people because of what they can do for us, and call it ‘love;” we lie to them, and call it ‘tact.’

Help us to not be like this but to be honest and truly loving, focusing on what we can give and not what we can get. 

Influencers

Another Tuesday evening is here, so here is another Sijo for Ronovan Writes’s challenge! This week’s theme is “pride.” I thought of being proud of my accomplishments in high school, which is a legitimate thing to be proud of, yet of how little importance it is now, even just a handful of years later in my life, let alone in the light of eternity. Then I kept thinking and wrote this:

"Non serviam," Lucifer said in pride, and so he fell,
While in humility Mary gladly gave her life to God:
Which one is truly happier, living without any regrets?

 

I am happy to have the Virgin Mary as one of my primary influences and inspirations. It’s because of her and the respect that the Catholic Church gives her that I started to be not only accepting but happy to be a woman. The Catholic Church does NOT worship her, but we give her the utmost respect as the Mother of God, Jesus Christ.

 

 

Saint Maria Goretti

So, I wrote this yesterday and wasn’t going to share, but then I just couldn’t handle how much this saint’s day triggered me yesterday (I had a hard time with it last year, too, and this day last year). Thankfully, today’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Yesterday was much worse. Thank God I could go to work and get out of my own head yesterday. A reverse cherita.

I love God and love my Church, and Maria did show a great example of forgiveness, but she bothers me. A lot.

---

 

Is safeguarding "purity" so important
That a woman should prefer to be 
Dead, rather than a rape victim?

God forgive my impiety I'm
Upset that that's considered saintly.

If Maria forgave Alessandro,* she'd forgive me.

       *her attacker

Quirky Man

It’s Flashback Friday! It also happens to be the feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the Catholic Church. 🙂 Usually this date, June 24th, celebrates the birth of St. John the Baptist, so that’s what this poem, written exactly 3 years ago, is about. It’s in a form called a Rhyming Wave and is kind of funny. 🙂

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Saint John the Baptist was a quirky man,
A quirky, quirky, quirky man,
He acted strongly in God’s plan,
He acted zealously.

He said, “Greater comes after me,
Comes after, after, after me,”
He dined on locusts with honey,
He dined in wilderness.

John the Baptist was a quirky man,
He dined in wilderness.

Our Lady

Loss is part of your sorrow,
And you know that God has
Done marvels, Magnificat anima mea
You proclaim; may I echo.

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I’m not sure exactly what prompted this but had wanted to write this acrostic for a few days and finally filled it in today.

I Am Jealous of Saints Who Died Young

Today’s word for FOWC is “death.” I told myself, “Don’t go there, Jenna, especially since you’ve already posted today,” but here I am anyway, because it’s in my head already; I’m not going there if I already am there!

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

The poem is one I wrote yesterday. It was basically a stream-of-consciousness, but I think it turned out well, and it’s not even that sad. It’s not hopeless. But it’s so true: This is horrible of me to say, but I am incredibly jealous of those saints who got to die when they were, like, 23 (like St. Thérèse). In the last few years, I have sort of been aware: “Oh, I’ve lived longer than she did now. Oh, I outlived him now.”

The worst part is, sometimes I don’t even necessarily want to go to Heaven. What I mean is, sometimes it would be preferable to me if we just ceased to exist after we die. That’s what I used to think, but now, for better or for worse, I know that annihilation is not an option. If there are only 2 options, I’d rather go to the good place. 🙂

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Hey, if I die at thirty-three
Like St. Faustina, that wouldn’t be
Too long to wait, would it, anymore?[*]
I have been so impatient. What’s in store
Is too scary for me, but what has been
The past 3 years is not entirely
Pain. Far from it. Tomorrow (Lord willing)
I’ll gain merit from persevering
Through grace, and that joy will serve
To erase all pain. Refrain
From worrying. One day will cease that sting.

[*] It would still be a few years. After lasting this long, though, who knows? Sometimes I wake up and am just flabbergasted that I survived all this shtuff.

Try not to fall into my stream of consciousness

For day 9, we are asked to write a nonet poem, and Linda’s prompt for SoCS is “how.” This is meant to be kind of a joke (but also kind of not), so I might write another nonet(s) today, especially because they are fun. 🙂