A positive (among many) about a new job related to my interests? BOOKS!! A pretty darn good excuse for purchasing and reading good books.
Yesterday I drove up to the local Catholic bookstore to peruse through their collections. Ended up coming home with only one purchase: Church History by Fr. John Laux. I've been meaning to get a good book on basic Church history for quite some time now-- it's my poorest subject. It's a good read, actually. Very smooth. And actually engaging. I've never been one for history in general (I love history but am terrible at remembering specifics and don't care for most history texts), but this is pretty good stuff.
I've also been perusing Amazon. I made an order for The Vatican II Council Documents, Vol. I. I figured that I needed those for reference. I also ordered an RSV edition of the Holy Bible-- I have a NAB but I prefer RSV. I have a very nice RSV New Testament, but I need the Old Testament as well. Lastly I purchased The Mystery We Proclaim: Catechesis for the Third Millenium which I heard is a good book for catechesis.
I love new books! I love reading! I love books! I GET TO HAVE MY OWN OFFICE WITH ALL OF MY BOOKS WITH ME!!!!!!!
Friday, July 16, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Job thoughts (extended version)
I think my life is a testimony to that (often over-used) phrase, "God writes straight with crooked lines." Times like these I find myself speechless and mystified at how God is working in my life.
Yesterday was a day full of great blessings.
- I went to confession. One thing the priest said to me that really put my mind at ease (and I'm not sure he even knew how much this one sentence hit me), "You know, we all get in those moods every once in a while and do something stupid." Stupid. That's how I always feel when I go to confession. I feel silly. Like, what in the world was I thinking when I committed those sins? Doesn't even make sense. And ya know, I rarely feel better immediately after confession. Actually, most of the time, I feel worse right after confession, because receiving God's forgiveness is like double-edged sword... I did something that stupid and He still forgave me. But, give me a few hours, another act of contrition, and I'm good to go.
- I received an e-mail from the President's office at my school alerting me that another donor has sent in a small donation to go toward my student loans! Praise God! The donor preferred to remain anonymous, but... praise God!
- And of course, I was offered the job as "Faith Formation Director" (why don't they just call it DRE like everyone else?) at a nearby parish.
I purposely missed the phone call from the parish yesterday afternoon, hoping I could be told via voicemail the outcome... of course, that wasn't the case and I had to call back to hear my fate. I was so nervous beforehand. And, in some ways, I didn't want the job. I know that sounds silly and it is, but... Well, committing to a real job has many implications:
- First and foremost, it means conceding to the fact that I won't be heading to the convent this year. I know it's been a pretty well-established reality, but I hadn't yet really accepted it yet. It kills me to think that I'll have to wait for at least a year, perhaps two, before I can go.
- Second, it means that I'm an adult now. Like, a real grown up with a full-time job. Call me crazy, but I'm rather attached to my childhood. I've had many experiences in the past few years that have indicated that it's almost time to officially grow up... but this pretty much seals the deal.
- Third, it means that I'll be on the West coast for the next 1-2 years. That's 3,000 miles away from my best friend, which absolutely kills me. 3,000 miles away from most of my friends, actually. (And I don't really have a set of friends back here anymore, sadly.) It's also 3,000 miles away from the Order and the sisters. Starting a new job means I won't have vacation time accrued for a full year, so I won't be able to visit, either.
- Fourth, and this has been slightly touched on, it means I'll be 3,000 miles away from the sisters. I'll be living at home in an environment that, while much improved lately, will not assist me to grow in holiness. There's a small fear that I might, as the saying goes, "lose my vocation" somehow. Whether that's a logical fear... I don't know. But I do know that it may have been better, environment-wise, to live with the sisters and be able to pray with them and work out there.
Did I mention I'd be 3,000 miles away from my best friend whom I already miss immensely? :-( Well, most of those things listed are considerations of personal preferences and are answered by positives for staying here. Except maybe the last one, but again, I think I just might be a little over-anxious on that account. God will provide.
The positives for staying out here:
- First, I think the obvious should be stated: It's a job. It pays money. Money that can be used to pay off my student loans so that I can go and enter the convent. Although I want to go right now, there's clearly a road block standing in my way. There's been some help on the donation front, but not enough to overcome this barricade. And I can't just sit and do nothing. While it's a little terrifying to think that if I commit to this job, something might come up... Well. Like Monsignor said, right now we're looking at a choice between goods. The job is a real good. A donation is a possible good (and a better one, for my situation), but it is only in the realm of 'possible' right now. Not fact.
- Second, my dad is ill and we don't know what the immediate future (next 1-2 years) is going to look like. It could be bad. It could be okay. Don't know. It seemed as though God wanted me at home for this current episode, maybe there's something on this front that I'm not yet aware of but for that reason God wants me here.
- Third, it's a job related to my field. It'll give me good experience and training for any ministry I do potentially as a sister. Words of my chaplain now echo back to me, "Kayla, I don't know, but I think God might want to work some good with you before you enter. Maybe a donor(s) will come along, but I have a feeling He wants to use you during the interim." I figured, at the time, that that was his way of preventing any major disappointment if I didn't manage to fundraise my student loans away. Perhaps it was. But it might very well be applicable now as well.
- Fourth, I get to stay at home and spend at least a year with my family. I know that it's important to them and it's important to me as well. As ready as I am to head off to the convent, the thought of leaving my family is certainly felt strongly. I love my family and leaving them is not an easy thing to do. Any time spent with them is a blessing, so perhaps if I'm not meant to enter this year, it's best that I be at home.
- Fifth, well, there's some stuff still up in the air about the Order and what have you. Those things need to get sorted out first.
I talked to my s/d after getting the news and we covered basically all of the above. I had asked to have until the end of the week to make my final decision, saying that I was very confident I would likely accept, but that I needed to confirm with my s/d and pray about it first. I felt a little bad doing that but... I hadn't talked to Monsignor about it all, since everything happened so quickly. But, we talked yesterday. And I feel at peace with it. I didn't at first. But then I prayed about it, and felt very much at peace. Monsignor said that I ought to try and contact M. Lumen before making my final decision, just to see what she thought as well. I sent her an e-mail, but haven't heard back from her. I'm going to try calling in about half an hour. But I don't know if she's at the Chapter or what. Last time we spoke she said we'd talk again at the end of July.
I felt kind of silly sending the e-mail, to tell the truth. Maybe it's because I'm just not sure what the relationship is supposed to be like right now. To what extent my decisions ought to be influenced by them. I can't imagine her saying that I shouldn't take the job. In fact, I have a feeling she might find it amusing I'm asking her about it in the first place. Aaaaand, to be honest again, I'd really rather not have to call her today. I need to, of course, but I'd rather not. Because I still need to talk to her about the whole, well, situation going on with their founder, and I have no idea how to do that yet. No idea what to ask or how to ask it. Yet it would also feel strange if I called, talked to her, and didn't ask about it. Easy solution would be if she just e-mailed me back and I didn't have to worry about it anymore...
Can you tell I'm not much of a phone person? I hate talking on the phone. I hate making phone calls. I'd prefer talking face to face any day. But even more I prefer e-mail. I know, I know, lame. But I express myself better via writing than I do in person or on the phone. I had to call my s/d on his cell twice in the past week, and let me tell you, it killed me to do it! I know, I'm ridiculous. But still.
On a completely different note, my dad might be able to come home this afternoon. They're going to take another set of x-rays later on today and if his lung is holding up, he'll get to come home!! I hope he can!!
As it is, I need to clean up around the house and vacuum. Ta-ta-for-now.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
A JOB!!!!!!!!
Oh Heaven save me, I sure hope God knows what He's doing!!
I've officially been offered a job as the DRE of a parish across the river... I'm quite speechless!! I can't believe I managed to get the position... these positions usually require much experience and usually a Masters degree as well! Yet, here I am, with only a minor in Theology, my bachelor's, and no parish experience.
I don't know how in the world I'm going to manage!! This is insane!!
I suppose this is the sign I've been looking for-- I'll be on West Coast for the next few years.
Oh man. This is crazy. I'm so AH I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!
More coherent thoughts later.
I've officially been offered a job as the DRE of a parish across the river... I'm quite speechless!! I can't believe I managed to get the position... these positions usually require much experience and usually a Masters degree as well! Yet, here I am, with only a minor in Theology, my bachelor's, and no parish experience.
I don't know how in the world I'm going to manage!! This is insane!!
I suppose this is the sign I've been looking for-- I'll be on West Coast for the next few years.
Oh man. This is crazy. I'm so AH I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!
More coherent thoughts later.
Dad's still in the hospital. The lung isn't healing the way it's supposed to... there's still a lot of air in the chest cavity and fluid in the lung.
I'm scared. So scared. Not about this particular incident-- he's going to be fine. Eventually. But. It's what's not being said that scares me so much. His disease, a rare and dangerous form of arthritis, attacks organs in its third and final stage. God, if this is the beginning of that...
The past two days have been particularly difficult for me. I think the past week's events have finally caught up with me.
*sigh*
There's so much on my mind but I can't process it.
I'm scared. So scared. Not about this particular incident-- he's going to be fine. Eventually. But. It's what's not being said that scares me so much. His disease, a rare and dangerous form of arthritis, attacks organs in its third and final stage. God, if this is the beginning of that...
The past two days have been particularly difficult for me. I think the past week's events have finally caught up with me.
*sigh*
There's so much on my mind but I can't process it.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Update
I'm really just beyond tired right now. So exhausted. I really think they put something in the air at hospitals... or something.
Dad's surgery was successful. They cut off part of the top of his lung (that was where his disease had attacked and where the hole was) and folded it over. Then they "glued" the lung to his rib cage, essentially, to help prevent any further collapses. The doctor said that the lung wasn't fully inflated yet, so they put another tube in his chest to help with that. There was also a lot of scarring on his lung and a lot of fluid in there. He took a sample of the fluid to test, so we'll see what that is. Could be pneumonia or something else. Don't know. The chest tube is helping draining the fluid. Waiting to hear from the doctor what's next. Dad's doing well, though. Feeling better. And able to take some pain medicine now, which is good.
I'm so tired right now. My mind feels something like a foggy bank. I really wish this whole job was happening right now. I mean, I'm certainly grateful to have some sort of light on that front but, goodness, talk about strange timing.
Well, I'm heading to bed. Mass in the morning, then back to the hospital. Hopefully Dad can come home on Monday.
Dad's surgery was successful. They cut off part of the top of his lung (that was where his disease had attacked and where the hole was) and folded it over. Then they "glued" the lung to his rib cage, essentially, to help prevent any further collapses. The doctor said that the lung wasn't fully inflated yet, so they put another tube in his chest to help with that. There was also a lot of scarring on his lung and a lot of fluid in there. He took a sample of the fluid to test, so we'll see what that is. Could be pneumonia or something else. Don't know. The chest tube is helping draining the fluid. Waiting to hear from the doctor what's next. Dad's doing well, though. Feeling better. And able to take some pain medicine now, which is good.
I'm so tired right now. My mind feels something like a foggy bank. I really wish this whole job was happening right now. I mean, I'm certainly grateful to have some sort of light on that front but, goodness, talk about strange timing.
Well, I'm heading to bed. Mass in the morning, then back to the hospital. Hopefully Dad can come home on Monday.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Extended Update on my dad
These past three days have been extremely exhausting. My mom sent me home from the hospital this afternoon to feed the animals and take a nap. I laid down, only expecting to sleep for half an hour or so, and woke up two hours later.
Here's what happened:
On Wednesday morning my dad was experiencing symptoms something akin to a heart attack-- terrible chest pain, shortness of breath, etc. He recognized it almost immediately as a collapsed lung because the same thing had happened to him two years ago and I had had to take him to the hospital. So my mom drove him to the ER (he wouldn't wait for an ambulance). They got him and confirmed that it was indeed a collapsed lung, the same lung that had collapsed last time. Standard procedure for something like this (not usually a difficult case to deal with; in general folks are out of the hospital the next day) is to put a small tube in the top of the chest that will inflate the lung. But since this was the second collapsed lung for my dad and because they feared there was fluid in his lung, they had to put a much bigger tube in the side of his chest that would not only inflate the lung but also drain the fluid in there. The diameter of the tube was just about the size of a nickel.
All was well for that and he was soon transferred to an in-patient room. My mom called and I headed up to spend the day there.
By late afternoon, however, my dad was getting super sick from the pain medicine. That was something to be rather expected-- he has a history of being unable to take large doses of pain medicine, no matter what it is. They tried percaced, morphine, oxicodine, etc. along with various nausea medicines, but nothing would stay down.
I guess all of the heave-hoing caused the tube to move around or something, because the next thing I knew my dad was in more pain than I have ever seen anyone experience... God I hope I never have to see that again... he was clutching he chest, crying and moaning, it was beyond screaming. I can still see his face. The nurses couldn't figure out was wrong and they couldn't give him pain medicine because he had been throwing it right back out.
I stood there, rosary in hand, unable to pray anything more than, "Jesus, Mary, Joseph..." I just kept saying, "Jesus, give this to me, not him..."
It was terrifying and it lasted for over half an hour before they finally figured out what was wrong. Somehow the tube had loosed and air bubbles and pressure were entering his chest... Thank God it wasn't a heart attack.
He calmed down quite a bit after that episode, but was still in quite a bit of pain and he refused to take any more pain medicine. By night time, he was able to sleep, so me and my mom headed home fairly late.
We woke up again in the early morning and trekked back up to the hospital. Well, my mom went about an hour before me and my brother did (he had driven down in the middle of the night). He and I went around 8:30am. We got there and there was a huge fuss in my dad's room. There were three or four doctors (actual medical doctors... which you rarely get to see in the hospital) and five nurses making quite the ruckus. They told us to wait in the family waiting area.
We could hear snips and pieces of their conversations. Chest pain was at a ten again, throwing up more blood than they get back into him, have no idea what's causing the bleeding, internal bleeding...
Apparently not long after my mom got there, my dad had started puking up buckets full of blood-- they said at least five or six full buckets. They tried sticking a tube down his throat to suck up the blood in his stomach (instead of puking it out), but that came out. They finally got a tube down his nose and it started sucking out the blood.
They called in some gastro-specialist from a neighboring hospital to come in and take a look in his stomach, to figure out where the bleeding was coming from. That took a few hours and those were especially terrifying because they said the bleeding could be caused by anything from a small tear in the stomach to something life-threatening.
Turns out that all of the heave-hoing from the day before had worn away the lining of his esophagus and that he had torn the lining right at a major blood vessel. So, once again, we were saved by a minor complication. The bleeding had stopped and it looks like the lining had healed itself, but that it is still liable for breaking open again if he gets sick again.
The rest of the day was mostly uneventful, except that my dad was in a lot of constant pain (not the super terrible chest pain of before) since he wasn't on any medication. Eventually the pain got up there in the numbers to the point that, though his lung was not yet fully inflated, the doctors decided to take out his chest tube (the culprit of much of the pain). That was pretty late last night. Once the tube was out, he was feeling fine (and ready to get out!). We left him to have a full night's rest.
This morning I had my job interview for the DRE position and I was hardly in the set of mind to go to it. The only reason I ended up going was because my dad was so stable the night before and my mom said he was doing perfectly fine this morning.
I went back up to the hospital after my interview and he was looking really good. Sleeping a lot, but still not eating. They took another X-ray of his lung and he was hoping to come home this afternoon. But we needed to wait for the doctors to come in and advise on whether they thought he should have surgery on his lung to prevent this from happening again.
My mom sent me home around 11:30am, to feed the animals and take a nap. I was exhausted. Just got a call from her saying that the doctors came and highly recommended the surgery. So, that'll take place tomorrow morning. Just praying that that doesn't have any major complications.
Thanks for all of the prayers and please keep them coming!
Now I'm heading back up to the hospital to relieve my mom for a bit.
Here's what happened:
On Wednesday morning my dad was experiencing symptoms something akin to a heart attack-- terrible chest pain, shortness of breath, etc. He recognized it almost immediately as a collapsed lung because the same thing had happened to him two years ago and I had had to take him to the hospital. So my mom drove him to the ER (he wouldn't wait for an ambulance). They got him and confirmed that it was indeed a collapsed lung, the same lung that had collapsed last time. Standard procedure for something like this (not usually a difficult case to deal with; in general folks are out of the hospital the next day) is to put a small tube in the top of the chest that will inflate the lung. But since this was the second collapsed lung for my dad and because they feared there was fluid in his lung, they had to put a much bigger tube in the side of his chest that would not only inflate the lung but also drain the fluid in there. The diameter of the tube was just about the size of a nickel.
All was well for that and he was soon transferred to an in-patient room. My mom called and I headed up to spend the day there.
By late afternoon, however, my dad was getting super sick from the pain medicine. That was something to be rather expected-- he has a history of being unable to take large doses of pain medicine, no matter what it is. They tried percaced, morphine, oxicodine, etc. along with various nausea medicines, but nothing would stay down.
I guess all of the heave-hoing caused the tube to move around or something, because the next thing I knew my dad was in more pain than I have ever seen anyone experience... God I hope I never have to see that again... he was clutching he chest, crying and moaning, it was beyond screaming. I can still see his face. The nurses couldn't figure out was wrong and they couldn't give him pain medicine because he had been throwing it right back out.
I stood there, rosary in hand, unable to pray anything more than, "Jesus, Mary, Joseph..." I just kept saying, "Jesus, give this to me, not him..."
It was terrifying and it lasted for over half an hour before they finally figured out what was wrong. Somehow the tube had loosed and air bubbles and pressure were entering his chest... Thank God it wasn't a heart attack.
He calmed down quite a bit after that episode, but was still in quite a bit of pain and he refused to take any more pain medicine. By night time, he was able to sleep, so me and my mom headed home fairly late.
We woke up again in the early morning and trekked back up to the hospital. Well, my mom went about an hour before me and my brother did (he had driven down in the middle of the night). He and I went around 8:30am. We got there and there was a huge fuss in my dad's room. There were three or four doctors (actual medical doctors... which you rarely get to see in the hospital) and five nurses making quite the ruckus. They told us to wait in the family waiting area.
We could hear snips and pieces of their conversations. Chest pain was at a ten again, throwing up more blood than they get back into him, have no idea what's causing the bleeding, internal bleeding...
Apparently not long after my mom got there, my dad had started puking up buckets full of blood-- they said at least five or six full buckets. They tried sticking a tube down his throat to suck up the blood in his stomach (instead of puking it out), but that came out. They finally got a tube down his nose and it started sucking out the blood.
They called in some gastro-specialist from a neighboring hospital to come in and take a look in his stomach, to figure out where the bleeding was coming from. That took a few hours and those were especially terrifying because they said the bleeding could be caused by anything from a small tear in the stomach to something life-threatening.
Turns out that all of the heave-hoing from the day before had worn away the lining of his esophagus and that he had torn the lining right at a major blood vessel. So, once again, we were saved by a minor complication. The bleeding had stopped and it looks like the lining had healed itself, but that it is still liable for breaking open again if he gets sick again.
The rest of the day was mostly uneventful, except that my dad was in a lot of constant pain (not the super terrible chest pain of before) since he wasn't on any medication. Eventually the pain got up there in the numbers to the point that, though his lung was not yet fully inflated, the doctors decided to take out his chest tube (the culprit of much of the pain). That was pretty late last night. Once the tube was out, he was feeling fine (and ready to get out!). We left him to have a full night's rest.
This morning I had my job interview for the DRE position and I was hardly in the set of mind to go to it. The only reason I ended up going was because my dad was so stable the night before and my mom said he was doing perfectly fine this morning.
I went back up to the hospital after my interview and he was looking really good. Sleeping a lot, but still not eating. They took another X-ray of his lung and he was hoping to come home this afternoon. But we needed to wait for the doctors to come in and advise on whether they thought he should have surgery on his lung to prevent this from happening again.
My mom sent me home around 11:30am, to feed the animals and take a nap. I was exhausted. Just got a call from her saying that the doctors came and highly recommended the surgery. So, that'll take place tomorrow morning. Just praying that that doesn't have any major complications.
Thanks for all of the prayers and please keep them coming!
Now I'm heading back up to the hospital to relieve my mom for a bit.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Camping at Mt. Hood!!
I've just returned from a five-day camping exhibition up on Mt. Hood. The camping party included myself, my parents, my brother, my sister-in-law, and the three kiddos. The destination: Indian Henry Campground, located on the Clackamas River. It's a campground that we used to frequent fairly often when I was a child-- I've probably been there around 40 or 50 times between the ages of 4 and 12. As it is, this was my first time back in nearly ten years!
The drive up the mountain had the excitement rushing through me; I felt like a kid again as I recognized the curves and the bends in the river!! The campground itself is about 45 minutes outside of the nearest town-- a small one with only one stop light. Slightly smaller than Emmitsburg, but cute. As we pulled into Indian Henry my excitement rose!! Memories flooded me as we passed different sites that we had camped at, time in and time out again.
We picked out a near perfect spot! Nicely secluded from the rest of the camp ground and perfectly situated near the river and the creek. It was spacious-- big enough for my brother's huge ten, our camper, and large space for the kids to play around (which came in handy, as the boys quickly made friends with two young kids from the next campsite over).
The boys and their friends spent many hours down at the creek. Oh the hours I myself have spent at that same creek!! Building dams in the water, my mom daring me to sit in the water (ice cold, definitely not swimming worthy!), jumping around rocks, trying to cross the creek without getting wet... Ah, the memories! It's a beautiful creek, the shades of green of the forest standing out against the clear, cold water. It leads down into the Clackamas, although it adds little to the already powerful river.
This isn't the best picture, hardly captures the surrounding forest nor the beautiful bridge that crosses the creek. (All of these photos are courtesy of my father.) You can see how those rocks can be construed to make little "dams" in the water, stopping the water into a nice, shin-deep pool.
Most of the week was spent in a very relaxing manner. I did a lot of reading. I brought along with me a book that my goddaughter sent me some time last week. It's a novel about an older business woman, a widow, who leaves her quite successful career to enter the Benedictine Monastery of Brede-- it is simply a telling of her journey into the Benedictines, as well as an inside look of the community life. It's a long book (appropriately titled In this House of Brede by Rummer Godden), but it's definitely decent. The writer's style is somewhat unique, although I can't quite put my finger on it! Has to do with her (his?) use of punctuation, I think. Anyways, it's a decent novel. Reads well, although there are times at which I have to admit getting slightly bored. Usually I just take a break and I can come back to it alright. Definitely some interesting insights about community life that gave me pause to think. But more about that later.
Other camping activities included long walks on the trails (absolutely stunning forestry!), playing card games with my mom and sister-in-law, sitting around the camp-fire, napping... My sister-in-law is very much a sanguine and I think she brings out the choleric in me. Needless to say, our late-night games were a lot of fun!!
It was also so nice to be free from all technology. No lap tops, no cell phones, no e-mails, no facebook, nothing. What a wonderful respite!! Even if I had wanted to bring any of those with me, we were so far up in the mountain that it would've been impossible to use them. We even lacked a time-telling device. We woke up when we woke up and went to bed when we went to bed, with no regard to time, save by simple guessing according to the positioning of the sun and nightfall.
Each morning and evening I was able to steal away to the river for about half an hour. It was so peaceful. I would go down by myself and sit on "my" rock with my breviary. The view was so beautiful, especially at the times that I went down... Literally took my breath away at times. I'd pray Morning and Evening prayer in that spot, overlooking the river as flowed so viciously, bending around the corner and disappearing from sight. I've never been a huge "finding God in nature" type of person... but then again, I was never really a "finding God" anywhere sort of person. In all honesty, though, I felt the presence of God in a very unique way during these times of prayers. Very peaceful.
On Sunday I managed to convince my parents to let me take the car down into town (remember, a good 45 minutes drive from site) to go to Mass. I had looked the church up on masstimes.org and was hoping that the time (note: time, singular... they only offered one Mass) for Mass was accurate. It turned out to be quite accurate. The little parish was just that: little. It had maybe 10 or 12 rows of pews. It was an intriguing little church. I was welcomed in by the pastor, who stood at the entrance greeting everyone as they arrived. I must've clearly stood out as a visitor, since he asked me a few questions about who I was and where I was from.
The church itself was a mixture of modern and not so modern. The tabernacle was off to the side and was barely distinguishable from an everyday box. The lights were covered by plastic coverings imitating chandeliers. The stained-glass windows were hoakey and the entire place was white washed. Yet the crucifix was absolutely stunning! Beautifully carved in wood, likely wood from the very mountain on which this little church stood. There were also four or five beautiful icons all around the church, as well as a wonderful set of the Stations.
The community was a nice little community. Very fervent. There were maybe 40 folks at the Mass. A few older couples and a few families and that was it. I could only smile to myself when they began the opening hymn: All Are Welcome. This small congregation sang louder and with more heart than I've heard in any parish. Like I said, a very fervent and dedicated community.
Back in my day I may have stuck up my nose at a liturgy such as the one I attended. Terrible music, liturgical abuses galore, the crusade of inclusive language... Yet, I could not help but be touched by the fervor of this small little community. Oh, they most certainly love God!! I have more reflections about this little community but I'll save that for a later time.
On Sunday afternoon, the whole family went for a walk down the trails to Indian Henry Rock. It's a pretty big rock, couple hundred feet tall, and it's created quite the swimming hole in the water. A perfect swimming hole, actually. Yet no one swims in it because the temperature of the water is far too cold for swimming!! At least for any intelligible human being. But my golden retriever, Vegas, on the other hand...
He loves to swim. He's obsessed. He swam for over an hour straight on Sunday (we eventually let him off the leash, when the other folk who were down at the river left). One of his favorite things to do is chase rocks that we throw for him. Quite funny, in that he'll even dive for the rocks we throw! Dive with his eyes wide open and get the rocks and bring them back to us!! Crazy dog.
Well, he was certainly tired after that exhibition. He somehow managed to steal my bed that night, including my covers. He jumped up there long before I came to bed and I couldn't get him off for the life of me. (I don't think he even could move, even for the life of him!) So I shared the bed with my dog... I had a small place to crawl into and very little covers... alas.
We left, grudgingly, on Monday afternoon. It was such a nice, relaxing time with my family. I really didn't want to leave. But it was well worth being jobless that I might be able to experience this five-day trip! Deo gratias!!
The drive up the mountain had the excitement rushing through me; I felt like a kid again as I recognized the curves and the bends in the river!! The campground itself is about 45 minutes outside of the nearest town-- a small one with only one stop light. Slightly smaller than Emmitsburg, but cute. As we pulled into Indian Henry my excitement rose!! Memories flooded me as we passed different sites that we had camped at, time in and time out again.
We picked out a near perfect spot! Nicely secluded from the rest of the camp ground and perfectly situated near the river and the creek. It was spacious-- big enough for my brother's huge ten, our camper, and large space for the kids to play around (which came in handy, as the boys quickly made friends with two young kids from the next campsite over).
The boys and their friends spent many hours down at the creek. Oh the hours I myself have spent at that same creek!! Building dams in the water, my mom daring me to sit in the water (ice cold, definitely not swimming worthy!), jumping around rocks, trying to cross the creek without getting wet... Ah, the memories! It's a beautiful creek, the shades of green of the forest standing out against the clear, cold water. It leads down into the Clackamas, although it adds little to the already powerful river.
Most of the week was spent in a very relaxing manner. I did a lot of reading. I brought along with me a book that my goddaughter sent me some time last week. It's a novel about an older business woman, a widow, who leaves her quite successful career to enter the Benedictine Monastery of Brede-- it is simply a telling of her journey into the Benedictines, as well as an inside look of the community life. It's a long book (appropriately titled In this House of Brede by Rummer Godden), but it's definitely decent. The writer's style is somewhat unique, although I can't quite put my finger on it! Has to do with her (his?) use of punctuation, I think. Anyways, it's a decent novel. Reads well, although there are times at which I have to admit getting slightly bored. Usually I just take a break and I can come back to it alright. Definitely some interesting insights about community life that gave me pause to think. But more about that later.
Other camping activities included long walks on the trails (absolutely stunning forestry!), playing card games with my mom and sister-in-law, sitting around the camp-fire, napping... My sister-in-law is very much a sanguine and I think she brings out the choleric in me. Needless to say, our late-night games were a lot of fun!!
It was also so nice to be free from all technology. No lap tops, no cell phones, no e-mails, no facebook, nothing. What a wonderful respite!! Even if I had wanted to bring any of those with me, we were so far up in the mountain that it would've been impossible to use them. We even lacked a time-telling device. We woke up when we woke up and went to bed when we went to bed, with no regard to time, save by simple guessing according to the positioning of the sun and nightfall.
Each morning and evening I was able to steal away to the river for about half an hour. It was so peaceful. I would go down by myself and sit on "my" rock with my breviary. The view was so beautiful, especially at the times that I went down... Literally took my breath away at times. I'd pray Morning and Evening prayer in that spot, overlooking the river as flowed so viciously, bending around the corner and disappearing from sight. I've never been a huge "finding God in nature" type of person... but then again, I was never really a "finding God" anywhere sort of person. In all honesty, though, I felt the presence of God in a very unique way during these times of prayers. Very peaceful.
On Sunday I managed to convince my parents to let me take the car down into town (remember, a good 45 minutes drive from site) to go to Mass. I had looked the church up on masstimes.org and was hoping that the time (note: time, singular... they only offered one Mass) for Mass was accurate. It turned out to be quite accurate. The little parish was just that: little. It had maybe 10 or 12 rows of pews. It was an intriguing little church. I was welcomed in by the pastor, who stood at the entrance greeting everyone as they arrived. I must've clearly stood out as a visitor, since he asked me a few questions about who I was and where I was from.
The church itself was a mixture of modern and not so modern. The tabernacle was off to the side and was barely distinguishable from an everyday box. The lights were covered by plastic coverings imitating chandeliers. The stained-glass windows were hoakey and the entire place was white washed. Yet the crucifix was absolutely stunning! Beautifully carved in wood, likely wood from the very mountain on which this little church stood. There were also four or five beautiful icons all around the church, as well as a wonderful set of the Stations.
The community was a nice little community. Very fervent. There were maybe 40 folks at the Mass. A few older couples and a few families and that was it. I could only smile to myself when they began the opening hymn: All Are Welcome. This small congregation sang louder and with more heart than I've heard in any parish. Like I said, a very fervent and dedicated community.
Back in my day I may have stuck up my nose at a liturgy such as the one I attended. Terrible music, liturgical abuses galore, the crusade of inclusive language... Yet, I could not help but be touched by the fervor of this small little community. Oh, they most certainly love God!! I have more reflections about this little community but I'll save that for a later time.
On Sunday afternoon, the whole family went for a walk down the trails to Indian Henry Rock. It's a pretty big rock, couple hundred feet tall, and it's created quite the swimming hole in the water. A perfect swimming hole, actually. Yet no one swims in it because the temperature of the water is far too cold for swimming!! At least for any intelligible human being. But my golden retriever, Vegas, on the other hand...
Well, he was certainly tired after that exhibition. He somehow managed to steal my bed that night, including my covers. He jumped up there long before I came to bed and I couldn't get him off for the life of me. (I don't think he even could move, even for the life of him!) So I shared the bed with my dog... I had a small place to crawl into and very little covers... alas.
We left, grudgingly, on Monday afternoon. It was such a nice, relaxing time with my family. I really didn't want to leave. But it was well worth being jobless that I might be able to experience this five-day trip! Deo gratias!!
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