I grew up in Alabama - now you know my deep dark secret!

Yes, I was born and raised in Alabama. Trust me I have heard all the Alabama jokes know to man. Strange thing is I never knew there was anything wrong with folks from Alabama until I left. I still have family in Alabama so I go for a visit from time to time and it is like taking a step back in time. People that visit Alabama for the first time should be warned “things in this state may appear to have been caught in a time gap, and they have”. When I tell people I lived without indoor plumbing until I was 10 no one believes me. “Oh, you are not old enough to have grown up using an outhouse”. I have the pictures to prove it – for some strange reason every picture of our house in the country had the “outhouse” in the background. What I am telling you is Alabama is 20 years behind other states – it kind’a like dog years - in Alabama I would be 80. When we moved to Georgia the transition for me was not an easy one. I grew up hearing phrases like –“it’s fix’n to come up a storm” – “it is darken than midnight under a skillet in here” – “they will be here directly” and the list goes on and on. When I asked the teacher for a “poke” to take my stuff home in, it took her off the deep end and I was sent to diction classes. Yes, folks I was in ESL (English as a Second Language) class long before it became popular. Not sure the classes helped that much but I don’t say poke any more but fix’n to, down yonder and do you need me to carry you to the airport are still active words in my speech. My husband’s family is from Wisconsin and he still has to translate for them from time to time. For the most part day to day communication is not a problem for me – might be for others – but I have reached the age that “demands” respect so people don’t correct me anymore.
I enjoyed life in the country, not so much the outhouse but life for the most part was wonderful. I did not have a TV, Game boy or IPod but I do not ever remember telling my parents I was bored. Yes, I was an only child but I never got to fully enjoy that title as we always had someone living with us. If you had a hard luck story my Dad was there to take you in. So the stigma that goes with being an “only” does not really apply. My parents were “older” when I was born thus making me the youngest cousin in the bunch and that did buy me some special treatment. Yes, I remember vividly the special treatment I received the day the boy’s (my cousins) put me out the back door of the school bus about 3 miles from home. Then there was the special treatment I received the day the boys rolled me in poison ivy for telling on them for smoking rabbit tobacco. Yes I was “special”! As I look back the “boys” may not have had a Game Boy to entertain them but they made good use of me. I sustained no lasting physical or mental injuries from their special treatment but I gained a life time full of wonderful memories. You, see I may have been their entertainment but NO ONE else was allowed to even look at me crossed ways. One of the boys was always my shadow. I also got to go with them to the creek for a swim, I was even allowed to go on dates every once in awhile.

Yes, growing up in the country was a great adventure. I never had to attend sex education classes; I saw the wonder of reproduction everyday living on a farm. I never had had to be taught to respect my elders – I learned early on that any adult had the right to smack me if I smarted off. Stealing was not a problem – no one had anything you didn’t. Our closest neighbor lived a mile away but you never had to ask permission to go visit – just be home before dark. I learned that hard work would not kill you and if a neighbor needed your help they did not have to ask. I learned about Our Father from My Father. I learned that LOVE is more important than things.
I wish I could say that I continue to follow the lessons learned so many years ago but most of them have been lost not just for me but for our culture in general. Yes, I know my neighbors some of them by name but I have no idea of their needs. My family can attest to the fact that I have more “STUFF” than I possibly will ever need. I have a Game Boy, an IPod, a laptop, a desktop – the list goes on and on. The one lesson I have never forgotten is “Love” and “kindness” are the most important possessions one can own.

God has a sense of humor! I know He is laughing at me.

Have you ever had one of those days that it might have been better if you had stayed in bed? Well, I don’t have them very often but today ranks right up there with the worst of them. I don’t mean “worst” like the day my parents died or the day my best friend lost her battle with lung cancer but just one of those days when things just seemed out of sorts. It started with a pain in my knee that made me what to throw up. I have had both knees replaced and for the most part I have no trouble with either one of them. I did something to mess up my oldest new knee a few days ago and the pain just will not go away. Everyone says I have a high tolerance for pain – whatever that means. Yes, I can have dental work done without shots, I have too many tattoos’ to count and when I had my knee replaced I did not have to get my pain meds refilled. So, is that a “high tolerance” for pain? I have no idea! When you are in the hospital after surgery they ask you “where does your pain rank on a scale from 1 to 10 – 10 being the worst.” Maybe I have never had the worst pain, so how do I judge it? I digress – back to my day. I finally got enough BC powers in me to numb the pain – BC powers are pretty much a Southern thing, it is something like an aspirin crushed up in a little pouch that you pour on your tongue and wash down with a swig of Coke or RC cola. I hobble out to the truck – have to drive the truck today because I have to pick up a pressure washer at one property and take it to another one. Make it to pick it up – had to down another BC on the way. I have to admit I am not the brightest crayon in the pack but I should have made sure the guy strapped the dang thing down. In my BC induced haze I headed for my next stop – I am sure you can guess where this is going. I had to slam on the brakes and BAM the power washer came through the back window. I live in Atlanta so at first I thought I had been shot! After taking a quick inventory of my parts I realized I was OK but the truck did not fair quite as well. I did not ever bother to get out of the truck – no need at that point. It has not rained in Atlanta in weeks, maybe months AND you guessed it! I have no back window and it starts pouring the rain. Oh, well – all I can say is God has one heck of a sense of humor. Finally got where I was going to drop the window eating machine. Walked in the office and the manager starts screaming – “You have blood running down your arm”. Dang if I didn’t, guess some of the glass hit the back of my arm, there was certainly no chance I was going to bleed to death. They insisted on cleaning me up and patching up my wounds. The maintenance man put plastic over my window and used Alabama Chrome (duct tape) to affix the plastic to the cab of the truck. It was no ordinary duct tape it was black and yellow – looked like the tape police use at crime scenes. Off I go again – looked a little like Fred Sanford. My VW bug is my mode of transportation choice but today I HAD to drive the truck – now I am driving down 285 in a TRUCK with a garbage bag duct taped to the back window. AND it starts to rain again – I turn on the windshield wipers and the one on the driver’s side FLYS off. OK, God you have my attention. Understand that I do not think God did any of this to me – but I sure was counting on him getting me out of it! I did make it home and the guy will be here in the morning to replace the rear shield or whatever you call it. I have taken off all the bandages and eaten a pint of Rocky Road ice cream. Tomorrow will be better! Well, until I step on the scales and discover that the pint of ice I ate has caused me to gain 5 lbs. during the night. Keep laughing God, I am glad I can be of some entertainment for you - but just remember one day I will be up there with you and pay back is going to be - well you get the picture.

Catholic's worship Mary? Or NOT!

In a couple of words “We don’t”. My husband and I teach RCIA classes and we often have to play “Ten Catholic Questions”. Why do Catholics worship Mary is always at the top of the list. Why the Catholic beliefs about Mary still remain so misunderstood among non-Catholics is a mystery to me. I know that it is a question of educating John Q Public, and let’s admit it Catholics have never been known for their evangelization or the ability to defend their religion. Due to Adult education classes now being conducted in many Catholic Church’s we are getting better! To be a good Catholic there are three things that we are required to believe about Mary – Immaculate Conception, Ever Virgin and her Assumption into heaven. You never have to say a single prayer to Mary and ask for her intercession on your behalf. You do not have to pray the Rosary everyday or ever. You do not have to have a single statue of her in your home or on the dashboard of your car or a Rosary hanging from your car mirror. In fact if you choose not to pray to the Blessed Mother it will just give her more time to listen to me! One of the greatest gifts the Catholic Church gave me after my conversion was Mother Mary. She is my constant companion on the journey, a friend I can go to anytime and know that she will listen and take my concerns and thanksgiving to Jesus her son. I could type forever about my feelings about Mary and how she has helped me during times of personal grief and strife. Bottom line - if your devotion to Mary does not lead you to a closer relationship with Jesus then you are not doing something right. Throughout her live Mary pointed us towards her son and that is her purpose even today. Remember when Jesus performed His first Miracle at the wedding feast at Cana – they ran out of wine and Mary went to Jesus and told Him that they needed more wine – Jesus told her “My time has not come” meaning that it was not time that for Him to reveal himself – then being a good son he did as him Mother ask and Mary told the waiters at the Wedding Feast to “DO AS HE TELLS YOU”. This should be our attitude, too. Mary like Johns the Baptist, points us to Jesus Christ who is alone the Savior and Redeemer. She does intercede for us but her answer is always “DO as HE says”. We simply ask that Mary present our prayers, our needs to God. This does not mean or imply that Mary has any special power apart from the saving power of God. In praising Mary, we are praising and thanking God for the power and love God shows to Mary.

What do Catholics believe about Mary? This is all that we as Catholic’s are required to believe.
1. Immaculate Conception - Catholics believe that Mary was conceived and born free of Original Sin. By reason of her unique role in God's plan of redemption she was united with God from the beginning and was endowed by God with an unsurpassable degree of grace.
2. Ever Virgin – Mary was ever virgin – she was a virgin before, during and after the birth of Jesus. Frankly, I cannot see what the problem is! Many, who deny Mary's perpetual virginity, nevertheless affirm her virginity before and during Jesus' birth. Yet the Virgin Birth of Jesus required an astounding miracle, and Mary's lifelong virginity afterwards required none. To object to the latter doctrine while admitting the former seems to strain out a gnat while swallowing a camel.
3. The Assumption - Catholics believe that at her death, Mary was taken into heaven body and soul. Her body was not placed in the ground to decay.
I will agree that some seem to take their devotion to Mary to a point that might cause those looking in to call it “worship”. That was certainly was never Mary’s intent!

It was about family, fun and food

Well, the 4th has come and gone. I can't believe that the 4th was on a Wednesday, who's poor planning was that? We made the most of it. Lots of food, fun, sun, family and friends. Isn't that what the 4th is all about? Celebrating our freedom to celebrate our freedom and remembering all those that have fought and are fighting to give us the right to celebrate. My Dad always loved the 4th of July, he was retired military and knew what the rest of us did not grasp about just how important this day was. He always made homemade ice cream. Dad and the ice cream were missing this year, both were remembered with fond thoughts and laughter. I lost court of the number of kids in the pool and the of hot dogs that were eaten. The line to make you own banana split seemed endless. The dogs running around thought they were in heaven - food just kept falling from the sky. Keep in mind this was mostly family with a few friends sprinkled in here and there. My Grandson was happy, his cousins and his Buddy were there to join in the party. Not to mention that YA YA stayed in the pool with him for 3 hours. Night time came fireworks were shot into the starry sky - it was picture perfect - until the kids started crying and the dogs joined in right on que. It had been a wonderful day, one I hope the kids hold in their hearts and mind until they have children of their own - and they can sit and talk about "how it was when they were kids". God, I give you thanks and praise for a Country that is free and a family that still understands the meaning of "celebrating" together. God bless us each and everyone. Amen

Just why does a Baptist Minister become a Catholic Deacon?

In a word the EUCHARIST.
First off it takes a long time, a life time I guess you could say. I am never sure where to start when I am asked to tell this story. There are several starting points and picking one can make it a short funny story or a long journey. I will try to give you the short version. Tom went into a Baptist seminary right out of high school, he felt God was calling him and he answered the phone. From the very start Tom had problems with what he was being taught. For example – the teacher stated that Baptist could trace their roots back to Jesus time. After some investigation Tom was unable to substantiate this claim. Baptist did not show up by name until the 1600’s. He discussed it with his roommate and his roommate said “there is no way these teachers can be wrong, they have been teaching for years. Maybe Baptist was called something else to being with”. “Yes”, Tom answered” we were called Catholic”. It was much like that for 4 years. Why did he stay you ask – what else was he to do? God had called him and when he got out of seminary he would have his own church and could do things HIS way. Tom was not familiar with just how big of a part the Southern Baptist Conference played in how he would RUN his church. For 14 years Tom was the pastor of 3 churches and a missionary for 2 years. He often tried to change things – liking asking the congregation to come down to the front of the church to receive communion. Needless to say that was not a success. There were many different attempts to “change” how his congregation perceived communion. After a long and heartbreaking time in his life Tom made the decision to leave the only profession he knew and a calling he felt deep within his soul. His words – “I can no longer run a church like it is J.C. Penny’s (after all it was a business) and I am tired of feeling like Johnny Carson (he was expected to entertain them for an hour a week)”.
What does an unemployed Baptist Minister do? He could teach school but having tried that before he knew that was not the answer. He was either over qualified or under qualified; finally he landed a job as a dispatcher for a Heating and Air company. He worked his way up and became a project manager. Tom remains in that position to this day.
Going to church was a hassle – if they found out Tom was a former pastor the current pastor was sure he was there to take his job. If they were secure enough in their position they worked him to death – hey free labor is what every church is looking for. Years were spent drifting from one church to another. Tom held fast to his Baptist roots. Not me I had been ready to chop those suckers loose for a very long time. I was raised a Baptist, my Dad was a deacon and we were at church every time the doors opened. I had not been buying what they were selling for years. For the most part I had kept my feelings to myself. What was I to say – My Dad was a deacon and my husband was a pastor. So, for the first time in my life I felt free to EPLORE. I think I went to every denomination know and some that were not on the map yet. After a short foray into the Unity Church, I came home one day and Tom announced that we were going to become “Catholic”. Catholic, well now that was one I had not tried – so what the heck!
Tom had read the entire Catechism and made questions. He made an appointment with a Priest at a nearby parish. We spent almost 3 hours with Fr. John and he was able to satisfy most of Tom’s question. Fr. John suggested that we attend a RCIA class. We did – and the rest as they say is history. We went to class for almost a year. The priest tried to get Tom to skip the process as they felt 6 years of seminary had prepared him. Tom declined and I was so very happy that he did. For the first time in my life I was able to embrace belief’s that were mine – NOT my Dad’s or my husband’s. We came into the church at Easter; Tom waited 3 years before he started the 5 year training process to become a Deacon. He was ordained Feb. 22, 2007.
Tom has always believed that John Chapter 6 is a true statement - that Christ is present in communion (Eucharist). Now every time he receives the Eucharist he is able to live out a lifelong belief.
I will throw in a little tidbit here – Tom was baptized Catholic the day he was born. You see his Mom was a lapsed Catholic marrying a previously married Baptist. Tom was born with cerebral palsy and was not expected to live, his Mom had them call in a priest and Tom was indeed baptized. Tom did not know about this until he started his journey into the Catholic faith. Tom’s Mom died many years ago, her younger sister filled in all the details.

When I get old I will smoke cigars and wear purple

Have you ever spent the night trying to remember something? Well, I had one of those nights! Before I fell asleep I was trying to remember the bible readings for the day. It had only been a few hours since we attended Mass but for the life of me I could not remember the Gospel reading. We had a visiting Priest – our Priest is on vacation for a couple of weeks – he is retired and spends his weekends filling in for priest. I really enjoyed his Homily and could remember most of the sage wisdom he passed on. BUT for the life of me the gospel reading that he was talking about escaped me. Guess it was my part-timers kicking in. So, every time I woke up my feeble mind was still trying to reach in to space and come up with the verse. I woke up with a headache, and wouldn’t you know it as soon as I got up this morning and had a cup of coffee I remembered. It would have been no problem to go to the daily readings on line and look it up but OH NO that would be too simple. I have this great fear of “loosing” what little mind I have so I try and give it a work out whenever possible – why it wants to work at night while I am trying to sleep is beyond me. I have to stay as alert as possible for as long as possible. My kids are lurking in the background just waiting to pick out my nursing home and pay back for all the “wonderful” entertaining things I did to them will be HELL. No, I was not a clothes hanger beating Mom – I have always loved life and laughter – sometimes my laughs came at their expense. When they were teenagers they bought me a dog to play with on Saturday mornings so I would not wake them up so early to play with me. I woke my son up early one morning to see the rabbit in the backyard, his comment “Mom we live in the country we always have rabbits in the yard – DAD come and get Mom and play with her.” I now have a grandson and I can tell you playing with him is the most fun I have had any many a years. Laughter comes easy for a 2 year old, rolling in the grass or spraying Ya Ya with the water hose can bring on fits of uncontrollable giggles. There is no sweeter sound that my grandsons laughter and no better site than the smile on his face when he sees me. Yes, I may have part-timers and recalling the lady across the roads name is a stretch for me some days but none of this matters to my grandson. Maybe I will let him pick out my nursing home!

Catholic house Blessing

Tom had a house blessing this afternoon. It is something us Catholics do. I am not sure how this tradition got started BUT I don't think Catholic were the one to come up with it. Our daughter in law is Asian and was raised Buddhist and I have been to many house blessings for her family. They would never think of moving into a house before the Monks came and blessed it - they make quite an event out of the whole thing. The Monks come first thing on Saturday morning - usually there are 3 or 4 Monks, all dressed in their orange warps. They burn incense, say prayers and sprinkle blessed water on all the entrances, bedrooms and kitchen. After the Monks have finished and received ample pay (food and money) for their job the party begins. There is more food than one can imagine! There are kids running around having a great time. The food, party and family fellowship last long into the night. Now they have the right idea - but then it has been said that Asians will have a party for the sake of having a party. But - there is more to it than a party, it is the whole family thing that they enjoy. Something that as Americans we have forgotten about. I can remember growing up in a rural area. All of my cousins lived right down the "road". Not a weekend went by that we did not all get together and have a cook out or in - and make ice cream. I never felt alone even though I was an only child. I always had "family" around me and we were always sharing good time, good food and great "cousinship". Now days we are so scattered that our kids don't even know who their cousins are. It is sad that this part of our culture has been lost - that kids now days will never have that feeling of "being" a part of something bigger than they are. For this reason I am thankful everyday that my grandson is part of a "big" loving extended family. As for me I will be there for every house blessing, birthday party, birth party, death party or just a party for a party that my "extended" family has. Being part of something bigger than we are makes living and dieing a bit easier.

If we concentrate on the things that make us alike instead of the stuff that makes us different - we would all learn just how much in common we have.

• Part of Catholic House Blessing

When Christ took flesh through the Blessed Virgin Mary, he made his home with us. Let us now pray that he will enter this home and bless it with his presence. May he always be here among us; may he nurture our love for each other, share in our joys, comfort us in our sorrows. Inspired by his teachings and example, let us seek to make our home before all else a dwelling place of love, diffusing far and wide the goodness of Christ.

Be our shelter, Lord, when we are at home, our companion when we are away, and our welcome guest when we return, and at last receive us into the dwelling place you have prepared for us in your Father's house, where you live for ever and ever.

Amen