Sorrowful Mysteries

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Sorrowful Mysteries
To all those struggling with God
As I was praying, I thought to myself: why would God love me? Am I worthy?
Then I realized it was pointless to ponder this question. God chose to love us, create us, and enter into relationship with us when he did not need to.
Next time you question your preciousness and worth, remember: God made you.
The Black Madonna. A collage I made of different images of this beautiful icon. "The Black Madonna is a painting of the Madonna and Christ Child which legend states was painted by St. Luke the Evangelist. St. Luke is believed to have used a tabletop from a table built by the carpenter Jesus. It was while Luke was painting Mary that she told him about the events in the life of Jesus that he eventually used in his gospel."
Regina sine labe originali concepta O.P.N
Mater Ecclesiae, ora pro nobis
St. Joseph Parish, Seattle
So, I got a little excited at the thrift store...
Folksy Jesus at a Midwest farm
Love my church
Be patient with the whole world, but, above all with yourself. I want to tell you not to lose your serenity because of your imperfections, and always to have the zest to raise yourself up. It gives me joy to see each day you begin again. There is no better way to finish life well than to return to the starting point always and not ever to think that we have done enough.
St. Francis de Sales
On Losing My Mother
In an effort to subside my guilt, I used to tell folks my last conversation with my mother was amicable. Not true. About a week before her death, she had called, crying, and in pain. This was nothing out of the ordinary. I advised her to go to the hospital, but she persistently refused. I was so frustrated, I passed the phone off because "I couldn't deal with her."
I had planned on calling her the night before she died, but I decided to wait a day. One of the biggest regrets of my life.
The following week felt like I carried my cross and quite literally walked through the Valley Of The Shadow of Death. Anyone who has lost a loved one knows. I remember, sitting in the car, shamefully praying my time would be cut short and I could be with my mother.
Most vividly, I remember cleaning out her house. That was the worst day of my life.
I had been there a few weeks before visiting. Clothes were hanging outside, plates drying, leftovers in the fridge, pens at the table and my mother's agenda (maybe that's where I get my obsession with planners). I felt my heart drop into my stomach. My mother did not know she was going to die. My mother was planning on eating those left overs, folding her laundry, and planning her next day (though she rarely had anything scheduled). Death does not wait for appointments, dirty dishes, or leftovers. It does not wait for birthdays or anniversaries or weddings.
Among the unfinished tasks and leftovers, we found a great treasure: letters and cards we had written to her the years before. She kept so many--whether they were pages or two sentences. She kept them all.
My mother was far from perfect. But she tried, and she loved us infinitely. I say this every year, and I'll say it again: hold the ones you love close.
"A great sign appeared in the sky, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars.
Revelations 12:1
How I celebrate New Year’s.
*sets alarm to 11:55pm*
me: ttyl, 2016.
*12:01am*
me: alrighty, back to bed. hasta mañana, 2017.
Mariah keeping it classy. Happy New Year, y’all.
St. Benedict on a mural at St. Meinrad's Abbey in Indiana.
Three Friends Marsden Hartley