I’ve had a string of strange coincidences happen to me lately. I know I’m the kind of person who has a tendency to read more into things than may actually be there – but for the most part I’m a pretty level headed person, I just believe that God speaks to us is many ways.

Last week I was outside taking some photographs and I noticed that the house next door had a whole bunch of these purple flowers growing along the edge, so I picked one (no one lives there or I would have asked permission) and I brought it inside and I kept it in a little bottle of water right by the kitchen sink. It had such a powerful scent that even if you were just passing by the kitchen you could smell the flower. When I was washing dishes, I would look at it and it just made me happy.

A couple of nights later I had this really strange part dream, part nightmare about being in a church/auditorium and Satan showed up (he was very tall with a long black cape – I lean toward the theatrical okay – and the dream was in a theatre!) and he pulled out a sword and was harassing a couple of people in front of me. In the dream I got up with my daughter and husband to leave the theatre and my husband kind of got pushed ahead of me in the crowd and I was trying to get my daughter and all these children out and at the same time carry this huge statue of Jesus. The next day, I subscribed the dream to my active imagination and the fact that I feel somewhat “burdened” right now – trying to keep everything in order – feeling stressed.

Today I was listening to a song called “San Jacinto” and I wondered who San Jacinto was. I really like the name and I was just curious so I looked it up online and I discovered that San Jacinto is Spanish for Saint Hyacinth – who knew! I also found this on Wikipedia:

Saint Hyacinth, Święty Jacek, Jacek Odrowąż (b. c. 1185 in Kamień Śląski (Ger. Groß Stein) near Opole (Ger. Oppeln), Upper Silesia – d. August 15, 1257 in Kraków, Poland of natural causes) was educated in Paris and Bologna. A Doctor of Sacred Studies and a priest, he worked to reform convents in his native Poland. While in Rome, he witnessed a miracle performed by Saint Dominic, and became a Dominican. He brought the Dominican Order to Poland, then evangelized throughout Poland, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Scotland, Russia, Turkey, and Greece.

During an attack on a monastery, Hyacinth managed to save a monstrance (or possibly a ciborium, it is unknown exactly which) containing the Blessed Sacrament and statue of Mary, though the statue weighed far more than he could normally have lifted; the saint is usually shown holding these two items.

In Spanish, he is known as San Jacinto. He is the patron saint of St. Hyacinth’s Basilica, in Chicago, Illinois and of those in danger of drowning.

I mean – it’s just interesting how all these little things kind of came together – it’s not like I’m building an ark now or making a sculpture of the Devil’s Tower out of mashed potatoes* but I think sometimes God just sends little messages into our life to give us pause. I certainly wouldn’t have known who Saint Hyacinth is if not for this – and maybe that’s someone I need to read more about – maybe there’s some lesson there for me.

Do not be quick with your mouth,
do not be hasty in your heart
to utter anything before God.
God is in heaven
and you are on earth,
so let your words be few.

As a dream comes when there are many cares,
so the speech of a fool when there are many words.

Ecclesiastes 5:2-3

*an obscure reference to “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”

I’ve been struggling lately. Depression is something that I’ve struggled with my whole life. It’s hard for me to talk about being depressed and being a Christian in the same sentence. Part of me has always thought there must be something wrong with my faith if I am depressed. I must not really believe in God – I start to feel like a fake. In my head I have knowledge of Christ’s redemption and power, yet in my heart I feel so pressed down and sad, and yes, sometimes hopeless. My head will be telling me all there is to be happy about, all I have to be thankful for, but my heart is just so full of tears it’s just too heavy to float. Sometimes it’s hard to get our head knowledge and our heart feeling to match up – at least it is for me.

I’ve been depressed before. I know “this too shall pass” and so I’ve learned to try to separate my true self from this shadow that falls over me from time to time. It’s easy to say and hard to do, but I’ve learned to recognize that this “feeling” is something I can look at and say, “okay, it’s here today but with God’s help I will just keep moving forward and at some point the sun shines in the right way and the darkness leaves for awhile.” It’s not the greatest solution maybe, and it wouldn’t work for everyone, but that’s how I cope with it. Maybe it can be understood like a seasonal allergy, (although I am in no way trying to equate the two in severity) you know allergy season is coming and you do what you can to deal with it, but there isn’t any “cure” for it. Luckily, you’ve learned how to manage your life with it, but maybe some days it hits you fairly hard and you have to take a day off from work, but you know it’s not going to kill you. You know it’s going to get better at some point . . . you just don’t know quite when. I also know that depression can kill people – I really am not trying to make light of it. I’m just telling you how it is for me. I have had suicidal thoughts in the past, but luckily I feel like my faith has brought me past the idea that killing myself would be a solution.

The depression I have now is worse than I’ve had it awhile because of several things. Part of the reason is health related, part of it is medication related, part of it is because I know there are things in my life I’ve been avoiding and I need to open those doors so that I can move forward. I know there are forces in the world that don’t want me moving forward – wow if you’re not a believer, this is the part where I start to sound CRAZEEEE! I do believe in spiritual warfare. I believe that the enemy knows where my weak points are and when I start trying to deepen my faith, deepen my understanding of God, the enemy is ready with attacks. Tiny darts of questions about my worth, questions about my faithfulness, questions about my intentions . . . all aimed to undermine me – sometimes these attacks work quite well and it contributes to my feeling depressed. Once that avalanche starts it’s very difficult to stop it or to get out from under it. Unfortunately, as of late I’ve been susceptible to falling for those attacks and I’ve gotten buried under the landslide.

If I get disappointed in myself, it can just start a whole new cycle of being depressed about being depressed which gets me nowhere! I just have to keep looking to God – looking to Him to remind me that it’s going to be okay in the end. Maybe I am a “lightweight” Christian. I’ve never thought of myself as particularly “saintly.” I’m usually thinking of myself as the one who got in on a fluke and I’m just really, really lucky. Maybe that feeling isn’t right though. Maybe I need to come to terms with the fact that God does love me. No matter how messed up I’ve been, how weird I am, how depressed and disappointing I can be – God still loves me. He always has and he always will. He loves me not in some intellectual way like humans “love their fellow man” because it’s easy to love a big abstract group. God loves me in an extremely personal way – the way I love my own daughter – and even more deeply than that, which is difficult for me to fathom.

It’s just so awesome – in the true sense of the word – to have the creator of the universe focused on one itty bitty speck like me – yet who am I to deny that? Who am I to contradict the Son of God? Maybe my depression doesn’t come from feelings of inferiority – maybe it also comes from denying myself the position of REDEEMED. Maybe we don’t fully allow ourselves to understand what that word means and all that it implies . . .

But now, this is what the LORD says—
he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

2 When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.

3 For I am the LORD, your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;
I give Egypt for your ransom,
Cush [a] and Seba in your stead.

4 Since you are precious and honored in my sight,
and because I love you,
I will give men in exchange for you,
and people in exchange for your life.

5 Do not be afraid, for I am with you;
I will bring your children from the east
and gather you from the west.

6 I will say to the north, ‘Give them up!’
and to the south, ‘Do not hold them back.’
Bring my sons from afar
and my daughters from the ends of the earth-

7 everyone who is called by my name,
whom I created for my glory,
whom I formed and made.”

~Isaiah 43:1-7

¹ As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, my God.

² My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?

³ My tears have been my food
day and night,
while people say to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”

⁴ These things I remember
as I pour out my soul:
how I used to go to the house of God
under the protection of the Mighty One ^[d]
with shouts of joy and praise
among the festive throng.

⁵ Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.

⁶ My soul is downcast within me;
therefore I will remember you
from the land of the Jordan,
the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar.

⁷ Deep calls to deep
in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.

⁸ By day the LORD directs his love,
at night his song is with me—
a prayer to the God of my life.

⁹ I say to God my Rock,
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about mourning,
oppressed by the enemy?”

¹⁰ My bones suffer mortal agony
as my foes taunt me,
saying to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”

¹¹ Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.

Lately I have been overwhelmed with gratitude. Sometimes it seems I just can’t stop being amazed at how God reaches out to help me. I know he does it, but I never ceased to be amazed that I matter to him, and that he makes a path for me to travel in this world. I don’t have any eloquent way to say how grateful I am for my life and all the amazing things that have happened to me, I don’t know how to tell God how wonderful I think He is when he sticks by me even when I’m a spoiled pouting brat, except to just say, “Thanks.” and I really mean it from the bottom of my heart.

Here is a good article I found on Gratitude. It’s an interview with Brother David Steindl-Rast, and I thought it had some really good thoughts.

Q: Are there “steps” in the practice of gratitude?

A: An act of gratitude is a living whole. To superimpose on its organic flow a mental grid like a series of “steps” will always be somewhat arbitrary. And yet, for the sake of practice, such a delineation can be helpful.

In any process, we can distinguish a beginning, a middle, and an end. We may use this basic three-step grid for the practice of gratitude: What happens at the start, in the middle, and at the end, when we experience gratitude? What fails to happen when we are not grateful?
To be awake, aware, and alert are the beginning, middle, and end of gratitude. This gives us the clue to what the three basic steps of practicing gratitude must be.

Step One: Wake Up
To begin with, we never start to be grateful unless we wake up. Wake up to what? To surprise. As long as nothing surprises us, we walk through life in a daze. We need to practice waking up to surprise. I suggest using this simple question as a kind of alarm clock: “Isn’t this surprising?” “Yes, indeed!” will be the correct answer, no matter when and where and under what circumstances you ask this question. After all, isn’t it surprising that there is anything at all, rather than nothing? Ask yourself at least twice a day, “Isn’t this surprising?” and you will soon be more awake to the surprising world in which we live.

Surprise may provide a jolt, enough to wake us up and to stop taking everything for granted. But we may not at all like that surprise. “How can I be grateful for something like this?” we may howl in the midst of a sudden calamity. And why? Because we are not aware of the real gift in this given situation: opportunity.

Step Two: Be Aware of Opportunities
There is a simple question that helps me to practice the second step of gratitude: “What’s my opportunity here?” You will find that most of the time, the opportunity that a given moment offers you is an opportunity to enjoy–to enjoy sounds, smells, tastes, texture, colors, and, with still deeper joy, friendliness, kindness, patience, faithfulness, honesty, and all those gifts that soften the soil of our heart like warm spring rain. The more we practice awareness of the countless opportunities to simply enjoy, the easier it becomes to recognize difficult or painful experiences as opportunities, as gifts.

But while awareness of opportunities inherent in life events and circumstances is the core of gratefulness, awareness alone is not enough. What good is it to be aware of an opportunity, unless we avail ourselves of it? How grateful we are shows itself by the alertness with which we respond to the opportunity.

Step Three: Respond Alertly
Once we are in practice for being awake to surprise and being aware of the opportunity at hand, we will spontaneously be alert in our response, especially when we are offered an opportunity to enjoy something. When a sudden rain shower is no longer just an inconvenience but a surprise gift, you will spontaneously rise to the opportunity for enjoyment. You will enjoy it as much as you did in your kindergarten days, even if you are no longer trying to catch raindrops in your wide-open mouth. Only when the opportunity demands more from you than spontaneous enjoyment will you have to give yourself a bit of an extra push as part of Step Three.

The Review Process
It helps me to review my own practice of gratefulness by applying to these three basic steps the rule I learned as a boy for crossing an intersection: “Stop, look, go.” Before going to bed, I glance back over the day and ask myself: Did I stop and allow myself to be surprised? Or did I trudge on in a daze? Was I too busy to wake up to surprise? And once I stopped, did I look for the opportunity of that moment? Or did I allow the circumstances to distract me from the gift within the gift? (This tends to happen when the gift’s wrappings are not attractive.) And finally, was I alert enough to go after it, to avail myself fully of the opportunity offered to me?

There are times, I must admit, when stopping at night to review my day seems to be the first stop on an express train. Then I look back and realize with regret how much I missed. Not only was I less grateful on those non-stop days, I was less alive, somehow numb. Other days may be just as busy, but I do remember to stop; on those days, I even accomplish more because stopping breaks up the routine. But unless I also look, the stopping alone will not make my day a truly happy one; what difference does it make that I am not on an express train but on a local if I’m not aware of the scenery outside the windows? On some days, I even find in my nightly review that I stopped and I looked, but not with alertness. Just yesterday, I found a huge moth on the sidewalk; I did stop long enough to put it in a safe spot on the lawn, just a foot away, but I didn’t crouch down to spend time with this marvelous creature. Only faintly did I remember, at night, those iridescent eyes on the grayish brown wings. My day was diminished by this failure to stay long enough with this surprise gift to deeply look at it and to savor its beauty gratefully.

My simple recipe for a joyful day is this: Stop and wake up; look and be aware of what you see; then go on with all the alertness you can muster for the opportunity the moment offers. Looking back in the evening, on a day on which I made these three steps over and over, is like looking at an apple orchard heavy with fruit.

This recipe for grateful living sounds simple–because it is. But simple does not mean easy. Some of the simplest things are difficult because we have lost our childlike simplicity and have not yet found our mature one. Growth in gratitude is growth in maturity. Growth, of course, is an organic process. And so we come back to what I said at the beginning: To superimpose on the organic flow of gratitude a mental grid like a series of “steps” will remain arbitrary. When I am grateful, I am neither rushing nor slouching through my day–I’m dancing. What is true in dance class is true here too: Only when you forget to think of your steps, do you truly dance.

“Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.” Col. 3:15

Painting: H. Schmalz, Rabboni, 1896 

Most of us, if we’ve lived for any length of time, have at least one of those moments when everything changed forever. One day you were moving along, life was going along in it’s same-old, same-old way and we thought this is the way that out life would be. These things around us would be these certain ways, our plans would work pretty much the way we expected them to, and even if there were a few variations, our life was pretty much laid out before us.

Then there was a moment when it seems that someone took our life like a box of toys and dumped it all over the floor. Our plans were forever changed, maybe our hearts were broken and would never be completely healed again. It could be that time was when we discovered our spouse was cheating on us, maybe someone close to us was killed in a car accident, maybe we were fired from our job in a company lay-off. Whatever that moment was in our life, most of us have had that shared sensation of time suddenly being in slow-motion, like some kind of bad dream that our minds can’t fully process.

Today, I think that could be how many of the disciples were feeling. One minute they were with Jesus and they were full of fervent love and desire to spread the gospel, then in just a matter of hours their lives would be completely broken apart. All their devotion and passion for the ministry was shaken to the core. Most of them fled in terror and shame. I feel very sad thinking about that. Thinking about how Jesus was abandoned by most of his friends during his darkest hours. I want to think in righteous indignation, “How could they! I would have stayed! I would have stood up for him!”

But then I realize, no. I am the same.

I have fled from Christ and his persecutors for much less than a threat of death or beating. I have remained quiet when others around me made fun of Jesus and Christians. I have fallen asleep in the Garden of Gethsemane, I have denied him to the suspicious crowds, I have my share in his death on the cross.

I have had a moment in my life when the solid ground dropped out from under me. I have had a moment when all my “best laid plans” failed and my life ruptured because of choices I made.

Yet, even in those deepest, darkest hours there shone through the hope of Christ. The same Christ that I helped to crucify – the same friend that I have betrayed. He stood with me, and he stood with all the disciples during the darkness that was soon to overtake them. The disciples were caught off guard, but Christ wasn’t. Our view is from the ground and we only see what’s around us, but God sees the big picture and nothing surprises him. He set up the plan so that I could be forgiven for all the times that I have failed to stand by him. He set up the plan so that even when my view of things was clouded by darkness and tears, there was still a way that he could come to comfort and help me.

He says the same thing in the beginning,

“I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I wil not leave you until I have done what I promised you. ” ~ Genesis 28:15

that he says in the end,

“I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.” ~ Matthew 28:20

So, even though today I’m sad thinking about the ordeal that Christ is just beginning to suffer, I have been given a glimpse of the big picture and I know that he will emerge triumphant from this – I have been given hope.

“And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for you: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” II Corinthians 12:9

Happy St. Joseph’s Feast Day to you! This is a special day for me because St. Joseph is someone that I have a deep devotion for. I believe that St. Joseph has helped watch over me and helped to bring my husband into my life. Our son that passed away was named after St. Joseph, so that makes it special too. I hope all of you have a peaceful and beautiful day and sometime during your busy day, remember St. Joseph and how this simple and quiet man who worked as a carpenter was given the unique and magnificent privilege of being the foster father of God Incarnate.

This was from catholic online and says it better than I can:

We know Joseph was a compassionate, caring man. When he discovered Mary was pregnant after they had been betrothed, he knew the child was not his but was as yet unaware that she was carrying the Son of God. He planned to divorce Mary according to the law but he was concerned for her suffering and safety. He knew that women accused to adultery could be stoned to death, so he decided to divorce her quietly and not expose her to shame or cruelty (Matthew 1:19-25).

We know Joseph was man of faith, obedient to whatever God asked of him without knowing the outcome. When the angel came to Joseph in a dream and told him the truth about the child Mary was carrying, Joseph immediately and without question or concern for gossip, took Mary as his wife. When the angel came again to tell him that his family was in danger, he immediately left everything he owned, all his family and friends, and fled to a strange country with his young wife and the baby. He waited in Egypt without question until the angel told him it was safe to go back (Matthew 2:13-23).

We know Joseph loved Jesus. His one concern was for the safety of this child entrusted to him. Not only did he leave his home to protect Jesus, but upon his return settled in the obscure town of Nazareth out of fear for his life. When Jesus stayed in the Temple we are told Joseph (along with Mary) searched with great anxiety for three days for him (Luke 2:48). We also know that Joseph treated Jesus as his own son for over and over the people of Nazareth say of Jesus, “Is this not the son of Joseph?” (Luke 4:22)

We know Joseph respected God. He followed God’s commands in handling the situation with Mary and going to Jerusalem to have Jesus circumcised and Mary purified after Jesus’ birth. We are told that he took his family to Jerusalem every year for Passover, something that could not have been easy for a working man.

Since Joseph does not appear in Jesus’ public life, at his death, or resurrection, many historians believe Joseph probably had died before Jesus entered public ministry.

Joseph is the patron of the dying because, assuming he died before Jesus’ public life, he died with Jesus and Mary close to him, the way we all would like to leave this earth.

Traditional Prayer:

Prayer to St. Joseph / Oratio ad Sanctum Iosephum

To thee, O Blessed Joseph, we have recourse in our tribulations, and while imploring the aid of thy most holy Spouse, we confidently invoke thy patronage also. By that love which united thee to the Immaculate Virgin, Mother of God, and by the fatherly affection with which thou didst embrace the Infant Jesus, we humbly beseech thee graciously to regard the inheritance which Jesus Christ purchased with His Blood and to help us in our necessities, by thy powerful intercession.

Protect, O most provident Guardian of the Holy Family, the chosen children of Jesus Christ; ward off from us, O most loving Father, all taint of error and corruption; graciously assist us from Heaven, O most power protector, in our struggle with the powers of darkness; and as thou didst once rescue the Child Jesus from imminent peril to His life, so now defend the Holy Church of God from the snares of her enemies and from all adversity.

Shield each one of us with thy unceasing patronage that, imitating thy example and sported by thy aid, we may be enabled to live a good life, die a holy death, and secure everlasting happiness in Heaven. Amen.

My great grandmother is the person who taught me how to pray. She was a very Godly woman and would pray every night before going to sleep. She could no longer kneel beside her bed so she would sit on the edge and say her evening prayers. During the summers when I would stay with her I would lay quietly on my side of the bed listening to her gentle whispering, waiting for her to finish. She taught me the Lord’s prayer and the children’s night time prayer “Now I lay me down to sleep . . .” at the end when you say “God bless this person and this person and this person” I remember becoming so bogged down trying to remember all the names that I wanted God to bless that eventually I just started saying “God bless everyone in the whole entire world.” It was so much easier and that way no one got left out of the blessing! She instilled in me the habit of nighttime prayers but by her example I learned how important it is to pray. Since I saw her praying quietly to God every night I knew that there was a real God on the other end, listening to what my Grandma had to say. That’s an invaluable thing to teach a person.

I’ve been through a lot of “phases” in my life – some of those phases I wasn’t going to church and I wasn’t sure what I really believed, but even during those times I prayed. I owe that to my Grandma – and the Holy Spirit of course! My prayers at these times were pretty self-centered prayer – as I was pretty self-absorbed at the time. God was like a celestial genie that was supposed to grant all my wishes or something. I was a real brat, to say the least. God of course worked on of his many miracles and somehow he got through to me though. I think now of that time as being a seed buried in the darkness. It was a dark and cold time, but God hadn’t forsaken me, he was just “growing” me. So now I’m a little sprout! Hooray!

Anyway, since becoming Catholic I’ve discovered so many new kinds of prayers! It’s awesome. I love all the ways that you can talk to God. I think prayer is so incredible because if you have a problem, say with your taxes, and you wanted to talk to someone who could really help you with that problem, for example George Bush, or even your state’s Governor, could you get them on the phone? Doubt it. But do you need God’s help? The creator of all the heavens and earth. All you have to do it pray and he’s right there to hear you. How cool is that? That really demonstrates his power to me. He’s so powerful he has time for me. Dumb little me. He’s not too busy, he’s not too hip, he’s not surrounded by a posse to keep his fans at bay. I really appreciate that. Thanks God!

Pope John Paul II indicates that people sometimes say they don’t know how to pray. “How to pray? This is a simple matter. I would say: Pray any way you like, so long as you do pray.” You can pray the way your mother taught you; you can use a prayer book. Sometimes it takes courage to pray; but it is possible to pray, and necessary to pray. Whether from memory or a book or just in thought, it is all the same. See, John Paul II, The Way of Prayer, Crossroad Publishing Co. (1995). See also The Necessity of Prayer, by St. Alphonsus.

As St. Paul teaches: “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” 1Ths. 5:18 And again: “Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe…” Hebr. 12:28

painting by Nicholas Maes, “An Old Woman Praying”

I live in a farming community and during the early spring, farmers begin to burn their fields. It’s not uncommon to be driving along the highway and see the surrounding fields ablaze with bright flames and dark smoke. It’s an eerie sight at night, like some pagan festival from a forgotten time. The reason that they burn the fields is that it burns away all the stubble from the previous growing season, and the ashes fertilize the soil. After the fields are burned bare, they take their plows and discs and turn over the dirt and get it ready for another planting season.

I like seeing the fields burning – it means that spring is on the way. Soon the weather will be warmer, the ugly brown grass will turn green, trees will fill out their skeletal branches with new leaves. It’s the best time of the year I think. It’s appropriate that Easter falls during this time. I love the feeling of everything being new – the rebirth of nature echoing the resurrection of Christ. I always start feeling happy around this time of year. How can you not – for me, there’s such an anticipation of “newness.” I know Easter is still over two weeks away, but today I’m so eager for Easter to come!

The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.

He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever;

he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities.

For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him;

as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;

for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.

As for man, his days are like grass,  he flourishes like a flower of the field;

the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more.

But from everlasting to everlasting the LORD’s love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children’s children-

with those who keep his covenant and remember to obey his precepts.

The LORD has established his throne in heaven, and his kingdom rules over all.

Praise the LORD, you his angels, you mighty ones who do his bidding, who obey his word.

Praise the LORD, all his heavenly hosts, you his servants who do his will.

Praise the LORD, all his works  everywhere in his dominion.

Praise the LORD, O my soul.

Psalms 103:8-22 

I’ve been thinking about how I know the Bible was written by men as opposed to women. Now, before anyone throws a burning bra at me, I must explain my anecdotal evidence to prove this statement. This weekend I just happened to be reading through some of the Old Testament. I admittedly don’t know the Old Testament as well as I know the New – which is probably true for the majority of Christians. I guess the Old Testament is more intimidating to me for some reason, like this verse out of Exodus 30:34 – 38:

Then the LORD said to Moses, “Take fragrant spices—gum resin, onycha and galbanum—and pure frankincense, all in equal amounts, and make a fragrant blend of incense, the work of a perfumer. It is to be salted and pure and sacred. Grind some of it to powder and place it in front of the ark of the covenant law in the tent of meeting, where I will meet with you. It shall be most holy to you. Do not make any incense with this formula for yourselves; consider it holy to the LORD. Whoever makes incense like it to enjoy its fragrance must be cut off from their people.”

This certainly makes me understand having a “fear of the Lord” because you see right here that God is very serious business – even down to His incense. Do not mess with the Lord’s incense. I’m not trying to be flippant about this, I’m just saying that, “Wow, that’s heavy.”

Okay well anyway, back to the story. I was flipping through the Old Testament when I came across this passage:

Now Elisha was suffering from the illness from which he died. Jehoash king of Israel went down to see him and wept over him. “My father! My father!” he cried. “The chariots and horsemen of Israel!”

Elisha said, “Get a bow and some arrows,” and he did so. “Take the bow in your hands,” he said to the king of Israel. When he had taken it, Elisha put his hands on the king’s hands.

“Open the east window,” he said, and he opened it. “Shoot!” Elisha said, and he shot. “The LORD’s arrow of victory, the arrow of victory over Aram!” Elisha declared. “You will completely destroy the Arameans at Aphek.”

Then he said, “Take the arrows,” and the king took them. Elisha told him, “Strike the ground.” He struck it three times and stopped. The man of God was angry with him and said, “You should have struck the ground five or six times; then you would have defeated Aram and completely destroyed it. But now you will defeat it only three times.”

Elisha died and was buried.

Now Moabite raiders used to enter the country every spring. Once while some Israelites were burying a man, suddenly they saw a band of raiders; so they threw the man’s body into Elisha’s tomb. When the body touched Elisha’s bones, the man came to life and stood up on his feet.

Hazael king of Aram oppressed Israel throughout the reign of Jehoahaz. But the LORD was gracious to them and had compassion and showed concern for them because of his covenant with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. To this day he has been unwilling to destroy them or banish them from his presence.

Hazael king of Aram died, and Ben-Hadad his son succeeded him as king. Then Jehoash son of Jehoahaz recaptured from Ben-Hadad son of Hazael the towns he had taken in battle from his father Jehoahaz. Three times Jehoash defeated him, and so he recovered the Israelite towns.

2 Kings 13: 14-24

So I was reading along . . . la de dah . . . “When the body touched Elisha’s bones, the man came to life and stood up on his feet.” and then, “Hazael king of Aram oppressed Israel throughout the reign of Jehoahaz” When I did a sort of reading double take. “Wha….” and yes, it said the dead guy touched Elisha’s bones and came to life and then it just breezed over that little piece of information and straight into some, sorry to say, boring facts about Hazel King of Aram who oppressed Israel throughout the reign of Jehoahaz.

Did anyone else reading this notice that a DEAD GUY GOT UP AND STOOD ON HIS FEET?! I mean, there were other parts of the passage that was confusing to me, but hello – this little sentance really jumped out. So I retraced my reading steps . . . and sure enough there’s no further information about this guy. All I could get from this was 1. He was a dead Israelite 2. He was being buried in the Spring 3. Moabite raiders came in the spring 4. During his burial his friends had to toss him into the tomb because Moabite raiders interruped the funeral. and 5. He touched the bones of poor dead Elisha which caused him to come to life and stand on his feet.

I’m scrambling through the footnotes for more info on this and all I get is this:

Footnotes:

1. 2 Kings 13:6 That is, a symbol of the goddess Asherah; here and elsewhere in 2 Kings
2. 2 Kings 13:9 Hebrew Joash , a variant of Jehoash ; also in verses 12-14 and 25

Nothing. I mean, was the guy really back alive like Lazarus? Did he help his friends fight the Moabites? What did his family say? Did anyone else ever touch the bones of Elisha? Did they decide to be more careful with those bones in the future? Why did Elisha’s bones have this incredible power? And then it hit me. A man wrote this. This was probably all the information I was going to get.

See, I know how men and women are. My husband will talk to his Mom on the phone for an hour and then I will ask him, “So what did she have to say?” and he’ll tell me, “Oh nothing. She’s quitting her job.” and that’s it. Then when I see his mother she will tell me a whole long story about how come she quit, how she went about quitting, what she plans to do now… all the details. My dad and brothers are the exact same way. They boil down an hours worth of details into one or two sentences. I guess this comes in handy if you’re in a hurry, but most women I know want the details. We want the whole story. It helps us process the information better.

We want to know what they said word for word. How did they sound on the phone? What was she wearing at the party? Sure, sometimes it’s petty stuff that we don’t HAVE to know, but it helps me have a better understanding of the whole situation – it’s not just because I want to gossip or talk alot. I really have reasons for wanting to know, I want to be able to see the big full picture of things. I’m sure men have reasons for omitting parts of the story. They pare it down to the essentials – they “cut to the chase” – and believe me I appreciate this fact. Seriously, the Bible would be two to three times longer if women wrote it, let’s just admit that fact. I would have told you what Mary was wearing when the Angel Gabriel showed up and what she packed for her trip to Egypt with Joseph. I would have went into detail about the weather on the day of the sermon on the mount. It would all be too much probably, but that’s just how I think about things.

I don’t think it’s too much to ask why such an incredible statement is buried into a fairly mundane paragraph. I find that kind of stuff all the time in the Bible. I know they have to pack a lot in – like journalists who have to write so that every word counts as opposed to William Faulkner’s novels. Still though, is it too much to ask for just a bit more detail about a dead guy coming back to life? It doesn’t happen all that often after all. If anyone has any more information – seriously, I would love to know it.

The only conclusion I could come to was that this verse referenced the power of Holy Relics – and if you didn’t believe in them before, here’s a perfect example of a saint’s dead body have healing powers. What more could you ask for as far as that goes? Last thing I’d like to know . . . what happened to those bones – where are they now?

Oh, and I’m laughing at myself because this is an exceedingly long and wordy post that a good editor could probably chop in half or less!