March Daybook, Going out like a Lion

Outside My Window

A cold gray rain falls quenching an earth just beginning to come alive. Color, with its promise, returns bit by bit despite the pelting of ice and the swirling of gentle snow befriending the rain. Pansies, cherry blossoms, forsythia, and daffodils dot an otherwise naked, bleak landscape. And buds - on maples, oaks, hydrangea, lilacs - ready to burst - signally the eventual and welcome departure of a stubborn winter reluctant to let go.

On Pandora

"Ten Mile Stilts" - the Wailin' Jennys

Around the House

Spring cleaning continues ... at a snail's pace.

From the Kitchen

Jim still cooks for an army. Leftovers bore me after awhile, but ...

I am Hearing

Holly barking at someone, something ...

I am Reading

Will mention only one of the four I have going right now: Jesus of Nazareth, Holy Week: From the Entrance into Jerusalem to the Resurrection. Everyone should read this book.

I am Pondering

"The true Christian is not the kind of hero who owes his heroism to circumstances; he is not the accidental hero of a passing hour but a hero throughout a lifetime. His glory is that he overcomes the obstacles in his path; his goal is to possess God and find rest in Him. Can there be a greater honor than to serve God and belong to Him?" (The Imitation of Mary, De Rouville)

I am Praying

For the lost souls ... the sheep who have wandered away.

I am Hoping

For His peace to reside in restless hearts.

I am Grateful

For the gift of Faith.

One of My Favorite Things

Brewing a cup of tea and wrapping myself up in the comfort of home after a long afternoon of working away.

A Picture Thought

The male attachment to the remote control begins early and it has nothing to do with watching TV.

On the occasion of Holly giving Isaac a Bath

This is Isaac



And this is Holly




Holly thinks Isaac could use a bath.



Holly's baths tickle, tickle, tickle ...

"Okay, Holly, I've had enough of your tickly bathing!"

                                 Holly doesn't think Nana wiped away the potatoes and carrots well enough.                                  
"Umm, tastes just fine. I like giving this pup a bath!" 

"But Holly! That's my sensitive spot!!"

Holly is determined to finish the job.

"Can't forget to clean the ears!"

"Okay, Holly, that's quite enough! I'm clean already!"

"Now hold on, little rascal! Let me clean your hands!"



Isaac has had enough, "I'm outta here!"




Photos property of Darby C. Fitzpatrick (c) 2011.

The Solemnity of Saint Joseph

Today is my husband's birthday. His middle name is Joseph, in honor of Saint Joseph whose solemnity we celebrate today. I'm pulling a piece from the archives and re-posting it here today. I originally posted it on this day last year. Saint Joseph, pray for us!

 *********************

 

J.M.J

Lovingly dedicated to my beloved James Joseph Fitzpatrick, whose birthday is March 19, the Solemnity of our dear Saint Joseph.

How could this be?

He had never known anyone like her; had never known anyone as graceful as she.

Her goodness and her abiding faith in the Father had taken his breath away.

But now this crushing weight leaves him gasping.

She has defended her purity; claims she is still a virgin, that God is his father.

And he believes her with all his heart.
But who is he to raise this child? Just a simple man, surely not fit for a task of such magnitude?

A million thoughts race through his head. Perhaps someone else is better suited.

He decides to leave her; he will divorce her quietly, to protect her from scandal and the harsh public punishment of the Law.

Fear and confusion do not prevent him from recognizing Him in a dream.

All of his life he has obeyed His law, His Word, why should now be any different?

Knowing his life will no longer be the same, he embraces his beloved promising love and protection.

He will raise the child as though he were his very own.

He chooses to trust Him, because he knows He is trustworthy.

Anxiously, he searches for shelter knowing full well the time is at hand.

Perhaps if he had pressed on instead of taking so much time to rest,

they would have arrived in time to secure a room at this insufficient inn.

The frazzled proprietor noticing her, takes pity and leads them to the shelter of a crude cave.

What else could he do?

His wife smiles appreciatively at the innkeeper and he offers him a little more than his asking price. 
Now is not the time to worry about money.

Softening, the old man promises to send his maidservant with food and water and a blanket or two.

Taking her feet in his hands he carefully wipes away the grime of their long and arduous journey.

Her hands cradle his face lifting his eyes to meet the tenderness of her own.

Her radiance is dazzling, even now.

He tells her not to worry. He tells her he will take care of her always.

Quickly, he fashions a mattress of hay, among the malodorous beasts whose feeding trough he has chosen for a cradle.

He prays silently, apologetically.

He recalls the words from the dream and is consoled.

It really doesn’t matter that there were no vacancies at the inn; the comforts of this world could never surpass the fulfillment of His kingdom.

Somehow he knows in his heart and soul, that his faith was about to be rewarded; that His kingdom was about to be established on earth that very night!

Who is this ancient man, Simeon, proclaiming these synchronic words of profound joy and future trepidation?

Can his dear wife bear the weight of these cruel words?

He wonders about the sacrifice his foster son will endure for the sake of all mankind.

His rugged, sun-baked arms, cradle the babe ever closer to his heavy heart, as he speculates, “Will our Love once again carry us through?”

Again the angel of God appears to him in a dream, this time urging him to scoop up the child and his mother and flee with haste to Egypt.

The life of his little boy, Jesus, was being ruthlessly sought by the despicable King Herod!

Hiding out by day and traveling by night, he leads them to the safety of a foreign land, relying solely on the message of an angel.

Along the way he learns of Herod’s rage-induced mass murder of the wee lads of his friends and neighbors and his countrymen.

He and Mary weep with grief for the lives of these holy innocents, butchered for the sake of righteousness.

He is showered by the ridicule and insults of those who deem him crazy for believing in a dream.

Others condemn him for fleeing while their own sons are torn violently from their arms.

O, God, how can he blame them?

While navigating the narrow, rocky trail he wonders what the stones might utter if they could speak.

Gazing up at the star-swelled sky, he remembers another journey and a promise made many years ago; the promise echoing through time, now a rallying cry urging him on and bringing him peace.

He could sense his father Abraham journeying with him in the stillness of the night.

Encouraged by this holy presence he presses on; a refugee carrying the new promise into a foreign land.

Once more an angel asks him to trust.

Obediently, he gathers them to return to their homeland.

This time they are joyful and lighthearted, singing hymns of gratitude by day and resting at night.

As he treads the stony path, he recalls Moses leading his forefathers out of Egypt into the Promised Land.

He carries forth His child in an exodus reminiscent of that one so many years ago, back to their home where he will raise His son, who will grow in age, grace and wisdom.

And who will one day lead others to the new Promised Land.

Darby C. Fitzpatrick (c) 2010

Daybook for a Sunday in Lent

For Today

Outside My Window ...

Buds! On Maples, Bradford Pears, Lilacs, & Hydrangea! The grass is turning green again and there are baby leaves popping up on my rosebushes. The scent of newly spread mulch permeates the air beside the house. Lovely Spring sneaks back into our lives with welcomed celebrated surprise!

I Am Wearing ...

Brown slacks, a short-sleeved pullover blouse with a sunburst design in tans/whites/browns and my brown Eddie Bauer cardigan sweater, because there is still a chill in the air.  

On Pandora ...

"Drowsy Maggie" by the Chieftains (because it is almost St. Patrick's Day!)

Around The House ...

I bought purple candles today for Lent. The place could really use a good, Spring cleaning.

From The Kitchen ...

Grilled steak tonight with sweet potato fries and a salad.  

I Am Hearing ...

Jim tapping away on the laptop keyboard. He's finishing up his design for our new deck.

I Am Reading ...

The Imitation of Mary ~  by Alexander De Rouville (I can't remember how many times I've read this book. I still learn from it each and every time.)

He and I ~  by Gabrielle Bossis (More than any other spiritual work, this simple, little book has truly deepened my relationship with Jesus.)

A Place on Earth ~ by Wendall Berry

 I Am Hoping and Praying ...

For the people of Japan in the wake of the recent earthquake and tsunami. All I keep thinking about are the babies and children.

For the repose of the soul of Fred Fitzpatrick ... until we meet again, dear, sweet man!

For the repose of the soul of a very holy woman I really didn't know well, but who in dying has been a tremendous inspiration.

For my step-sister, Brenda, who continues to fight her own battle with cancer.

For all those suffering illness and hardship and for all those whose hearts are breaking.

I Am Grateful ...

For my Faith that lifts and carries me through the difficult moments and allows me to always rest my weary head upon His most sacred Heart. Praying each night that my little heart beats in sync with His own.

I Am Pondering ...

Our pastor's sermon this morning. He spoke about the serpent's three-fold temptation of Adam and Eve in the first reading from Genesis, (Gn 2:7-9; 3:1-7), comparing it to Satan's three-fold temptation of Christ in the desert from today's Gospel. (Matthew 4:1-11)

Adam and Eve's first temptation is one of disbelief. After Eve explains to Satan that God told them not to eat the fruit of the tree in the middle of the garden, or even touch it, lest they die, Satan balks - “You certainly will not die!"Yet, their disbelief most certainly leads to death.

And then he tempts them toward pride, " ... God knows well that the moment you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like gods who know what is good and what is evil.” In wanting to be wise like God, their intellects are dulled.

Finally, disobedience - they freely choose to disobey the commandment God has given them, they partake of the fruit, and well ... all hell breaks loose! And they are filled with shame. They are banished from the Kingdom.

In Matthew's Gospel, Satan meets Jesus, not in a garden, but in a desert where He has fasted for forty days and nights. He is hungry and the evil one tests Him - If you are the son of God, command these stones become loaves of bread. Jesus replies, “It is written: One does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.” Belief in God's word leads to life eternal. Trust in Him is our triumph over death first introduced by Adam's sin.

Satan tries a second time, if you are the son of God, throw yourself down from the precipice; surely the angels will care for you. Jesus answers, "Again it is written, You shall not put the Lord, your God, to the test." Jesus teaches us how to be humble in faith. He does not 'put on a show' to prove himself. We must avoid the temptation to call undue attention to ourselves - to become haughty in our faith and make ourselves look good in the eyes of others, solely for our own sakes, as the pharisees did. Instead, with the aid of His grace, we must live our faith in deep sincerity and guarded always by humility.

Finally, Satan promises Jesus 'the world' if only he will bow down and worship him. Jesus replies, “Get away, Satan! It is written: The Lord, your God, shall you worship and him alone shall you serve.”  Our true wealth is not of this world. It is through our worship of and obedience to God alone that we will inherit our place in His Kingdom. We are His servants and only His.

A Picture Thought ...

My brother-in-law, Paul Fitzpatrick, receiving the American flag that was draped over his dad's casket. It was a very emotional moment for me and others gathered there.

 

 

Praying for Fred

We usually have soup and sandwiches for dinner on Fridays and we almost always watch a Netflix movie. This evening I spread thick, crunchy peanut butter over a few slices of four-day-old Italian bread and I snitch the last two slices of Swiss cheese from the fridge - washing it all down with a cup of tea. I willingly share a few finger tip smudges of peanut butter with the wee hound. Her begging is too adorable to resist. I have a Netflix movie that I'll pop into the DVD player a little later or maybe tomorrow. If it's one I determine Jim will like - we will get it again, another time. Or maybe I'll just save it for later.

Tonight, alone, I am missing my Jim who has flown away to be at his father's bedside. He is there with his brothers to bid him farewell, to let him know - we believe he will somehow know Jim is there - how much he loves him, how much we all love him. 

He breathes fast, his Dad, and his breaths are shallow there in the hospice ward far away from here. Eyes don't open. Does he know his sons stand vigil loving, reminiscing, sorrowing? I know my Jim prays softly through the remembering and the caring of all things practical. He talks to the parish priest to make arrangements. He phones me to remind me about bills that need paying and the people to call. Always my rock, I saw it in his eyes before he left and sense it in his words - the heartbreak, the pain of saying good-bye, of letting him go. 

My heart swells in love and grief, too, and in praise and gratitude for his welcoming me all those years ago; for his gifts of compassion, of a very corny and endearing sense of humor, and of profound love for his family. I am thankful, too, for his wise advice over the years regarding the health and well-being of our children. He practiced medicine, the old school way. He knew that time spent with patients was well worth more than a dollar earned. As a young mom, I called upon him more often than I called my own family pediatrician. His warm and gentle manner, his seriousness about the field of medicine and his genuine interest in every one of his patients, have been instrumental in sparking my own Erin's desire to pursue a medical profession. When my kids misbehaved or fell into mischief, he winked his eye and chuckled, "Be grateful they're normal!" And how they adored (still) their Grandpa Fred - always playful -  causing giggles and squeals to fill my whole house (I miss it!), always loving them, always, always loving them.

And now, far from that hospital room and wishing I could be there, I pray hard, and am so very grateful for my father-in-law's presence in my life. I am so very grateful, too, for eternity.

Please, please pray with me.

******************

Shortly after publishing this post, I received a phone call from Jim letting me know that Fred had passed away. 

May the angels lead him into paradise. 

Eternal life grant unto him, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine upon Him. May his soul and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.