Kaycee

Mind of a writer, hands of a cowboy, soul of a Catholic

[by-grace-of-god]

“Did St. Augustine know joy? Read his Confessions. In his sermons, Augustine called this earth “a smiling place.” Portions of his work read like a litany to the goodness and beauty of creation. His biographer, Peter Brown, describes him as a man immoderately in love with the world. And the reason is simple. Augustine loved the world because he was in love with the Author of the beauty and goodness he found there.

What does that mean for us today? Augustine would tell us that the real problem with the world is bigger than climate change or abortion or poverty or family breakdown, and it’s much more stubborn. The real problem with the world is us.

As Augustine said in his sermons, it’s no use complaining about the times, because we are the times. How we live shapes them. And when we finally learn to fill our hearts with something more than the noise and narcotics of the wounded societies we helped create; when we finally let our hearts rest in God as Augustine did; then – and only then — the world will begin to change, because God will use the witness of our lives to change it.”

- Archbishop Charles Chaput, Strangers in a Strange Land

[downthelittlemo]

“...let us live well and times shall be good.

We are the times: such as we are, such are the times.

—St. Augustine

[thirtymilesout]

The Girl I Left Behind

[thirtymilesout]

[my-russia]

The Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, Moscow

[by-grace-of-god]

One of my favourite paintings.

Blessing of the Wheat Fields by Jules Breton

[iopanosiris-deactivated20210713]

Carlo Dolci, The Blue Madonna  (c.1670)

[eternal-echoes]

“The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.”

— T.S. Eliot (via larmoyante)

[aadeguzman]

“After the Consecration, the good God is there as He is in Heaven. If man well understood this mystery, he would die of love.” -St. John Marie Vianney

[o-pulcre-facies-deactivated2023]

This picture is very spectacular and all, but the thing I love best about the Eucharist is how mundane the whole thing is. Like, there’s something so incredibly beautiful in the way the mystery manifests in something as dull and boring and slightly awkward as your average Sunday communion

10/10 truly incarnational

[thetentpeg]

reblogging for commentary 

[anotheranglocatholic]

This is the beautiful and mystical reality of what happens at every celebration of the Eucharist; no matter how grand or humble, how rich and beautiful or dry and dull; with an altar party of dozens in a fine cathedral, or a single priest and server in a tumbledown shack; in sumptuous vestments, or a threadbare stole; with a silver and gilt chalice, or a plain clay cup. God, THE GOD, who was before time, who created the cosmos, who spoke all things into being, becomes physically present with us, in the appearance of the simple substances of bread and wine; while we likewise, pulled from our mundane world, are present with Him, outside of Time; joined by the angelic host, and the assembled and mighty Cloud of Witnesses- the Company of Christians - the Church Militant, the Church Penitent, and the Church Triumphant, eternally worshiping before Him, the Holy and Almighty One; Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus…

[joshbarrett]

Reblogging for commentary

[nutsacktorturer]

Mongolians are cool because they’ve merged their traditional and modern ways of life so rather than having poverty due to losing all their important skills they just live in their yurts with their cows and 827474874mbs internet

[nutsacktorturer]

sure their GDP in dollars is low but when you can survive like your anscestors did it doesn’t mean anything, nothing wrong with adding a motorcycle and wifi into the mix

[hieronymus-botch]

Everyone should live like their ancestors did 1000 years ago but with the addition of wifi tbh

[the-everything-man]

Adapt. Survive.

[nutsacktorturer]

[luchadoreofliberty]

Chad Mongolians

[downthelittlemo]

Why farmers and ranchers will survive in America no matter what 😂

[yesterdaysprint]

The Times Herald, Port Huron, Michigan, July 8, 1921

[downthelittlemo]

“...crude manner of getting in touch with each other...” 

...Perhaps we have become even cruder. 

[downthelittlemo]

The Paradox of the Thorns

“I consider that the sufferings of this present time are as nothing compared with the glory to be revealed for us.” Romans 8:18

The last time I set foot in a church was nearly a month ago. I was there early to pray in silence before the mass began and something became so clear to me as I gazed at the crucifix above the altar.

It occurred to me that it was the second greatest paradox on earth, next to the crucifixion. But our Lord certainly works in paradox.

The soldiers crowned Jesus Christ with the most painful crown of all, literally and figuratively. To ascend to his throne, he was subject to horrid tortures.

The physical crown they placed on his head here on earth was a joke, a point of mockery for them. Jesus was the self-professed King of the Jews and they saw fit to punish him for those words.

Yet, the deeper they drove the barbs into his tender temples and into his scalp, the more they drove home the truth. He was king.

Each drop of blood from his body was another ounce of his glory. Every moment of pain he endured, as they beat that crown further down onto his head, equated to unimaginable joy in Heaven, such is the way of our God.

The crown he bore was excruciating. Not just the one that marred his Holy Face, but the crown he now wears in Heaven. Each one of us is responsible for the pain Christ endured; we have all sinned.

I think I was meant to meditate on this for the remainder of Lent. I did not know public masses would be suspended until mass began that day nearly a month ago. The Crowning of Thorns is but a part of Christ’s passion, but keeping it at the front of one’s mind is enough to elevate one’s faith in a profound way.

St. Therese told Celine to look into the Face of Jesus, for “there you will see how much He loves us”

- Letter

[downthelittlemo]

This is a season of unceremonious ends. Years of work are ended in indifferent messages from professors, legislators, coaches, and principals. It’s not their fault, but the cancellations feel like the ground fell beneath one’s feet. The isolation is painful, but the unwritten stories of what should have been are nearly unbearable.
-
There are no instructions for this. But perhaps in these times of helplessness, we can relearn to seek joy in the smallest of things. In our noisy, busy world, maybe a return to simplicity is just the answer.
-
May you find peace in the quiet repetition of everyday life:
-
A horse’s flank rising with every breath
Turning pages in a book you’ve put off reading
Snow falling, snow melting
Eggs frying in the morning
Fire crackling in the evening
Lips moving in prayer
Quiet crying, hearty laughter
Your own heartbeat.
-
Your sense of purpose, regenerating, rejuvenating, reborn.
-
My prayers are with all those like me, who have found themselves without closure, without goodbyes, and without a choice. Keep moving.
-
“Go back?“ he thought. "No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit
https://www.instagram.com/p/B98HBLjBLCk/?igshid=sqdgagbtx6ew

[downthelittlemo]

The Last Supper

“It would be easier for the world to survive without the sun than to do without Holy Mass.”

—St. Padre Pio

Most are usually quiet in front of the Blessed Sacrament but at mass last night, a heavy anticipation blanketed the parish. The pews were full. Despite the hysteria, the faithful knew the strength that would come from witnessing the mass.

I was among those concerned very little for my own health or the nationwide panic, but the priest’s news was enough to finally make my spirit falter.

He said, “All masses will be suspended—”

His voice caught.

“I’m sorry. This is so hard.”

He looked down. and his index finger touched the underside to gather himself.

“All masses will be suspended until further notice.”

The source and summit of our faith is put on hold. The very sacrament from which we draw courage and wisdom is now taken from us. The Eucharist—Jesus Christ in the flesh—is gone.

When the priest raised the cup and echoed Christ’s words, “Do this in memory of me,” it was with finality.

I heard the words like an apostle at the table. “Do this in memory of me.” His instructions were clear: celebrate the mass while I’m gone. I’m going away.

Kneeling in front of the Body of Christ, I shed a few tears, too. At first, I did not understand the priest’s difficulty in giving the announcement of suspended masses, but at that moment it sank in.

I did not want to be away from Christ. I felt shame at every missed opportunity, when I could have gone to mass. Now, I can’t.

This Lenten season will be especially difficult, as we are forced to fast from what we love the most: Jesus. May it force us to seek him whenever we have the chance. We might not have as many chances as we think.

Mary and the other women followed Jesus Christ up to Calvary, watched him agonize on a cross, and knelt at the foot of it as he left this world. They, and the other apostles, wept for days with a hopelessness the world had never known. Darkness descended, as it seems to have in this moment.

With all the parallels of this darkness to the Passion of Christ, we must remember one thing. By holding him in our hearts and doing as he told us to do, he will return. He will always return. 🖤

[eternal-echoes]

“You aspire to great things? Begin with little ones.”

— St. Augustine

[downthelittlemo]

“Bull, why don’t you just git.”
- El Dorado 😉 
Bull (the dog) keeps busy while preg checking cows. He lines up cattle along the alley, in earnest. But in between mouthfuls of hooves, he brings a fetching stick to the nearest unsuspecting person. No timber is too big: if a twig is good, a 2x4 is better. We could do without his knee-buckling insistence on throwing the stick in his mouth, but I have to admire his enthusiasm. Despite the distraction of fetch, he hardly misses the chance to help keep the alley rolling, the ultimate showcase of multitasking. (Okay, maybe he misses a few cows, but I’ll giggle while I push them up in his place). 
Take a lesson from Bull: sometimes it’s okay to play while you work. Life’s too short to take everything seriously😉 
#lovewhatyoudo #playhard #lessonsfromadog 
https://www.instagram.com/p/B5ebIOkBzPu/?igshid=17xl4f8tw3wag

[downthelittlemo]

Hey guys, it’s (still) me! You may have noticed that I gave my Instagram a little facelift. I have long-loved this app for its visual appeal, but I also like the ability to share the written word in fresh ways. I decided to match my handle to my blog: “Down The Little Mo” for our family ranch’s location on the little Missouri River in Wyoming. I’ll be posting the same cowboy-aesthetic lifestyle that I’m lucky to be around but you’ll see me sharing a few more of my own words. As I work toward big writing goals, Instagram is going to be a creative space for me to let my love for photos, words, and the West hang loose!🤙🏽 Thanks for hanging with me and I hope you enjoy my informally-published scribbles💋✍🏽 (at Hulett, Wyoming) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4v8ce9hD8B/?igshid=14o9aag2i4212

[downthelittlemo]

“Everyone on this earth should believe, amid whatever madness or moral failure, that your life and temperament have some object on earth. Believe that you have something to give the world which cannot otherwise be given.” 🤲🏼

- GK Chesterton