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You inhabit heaven,
While all things in nature
Are held in being by Your Will,
There is a Presence
Of the supernatural kind,
That lights the soul
Of the baptized child.
O, God, indwelling,
In the heaven
Of my soul,
Living in constant adoration,
Willing Thy Will be done,
On earth as it is in heaven.
Susan B. Anthony List is running this ad in the district of Rep. Steve Driehaus, the Congressman who is trying to take away our free speech because he doesn’t want his constituents to know that he voted for taxpayer funding of abortion:
What Steve Driehaus doesn’t want you to know about his vote for tax payer funding of abortions through Obamacare.
Flowers in the rain
Petals open to sustain
Life that is and is to be
Crouched in hidden expectancy
Bees by colors in delight,
Arrested, nay, beguiled, alight.
To sip and gather on furry feet
Nectar and pollen of life so sweet.
Flower to flower in drunken run
Dance the mystery now begun.
by Joann Nelander
* “A hapless male bee, blind drunk with the flower’s overpowering pheromones, might well mistake a toadstool for a suitable mate” a tidbit from Wikipedia
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Lent means that spring is just around the corner. Looking at my garden, it was obvious that it was in need of some serious tender loving care. All I had the energy for was to uproot a few of the hundreds of weeds, but I did begin. Immediately, a thought interrupted my picking. “Many souls are dead and don’t even know it.” Surprised by the seriousness of the pronouncement, I turned to the Lord, “Why is that, Lord?”
“Look at the weeds you’re uprooting; they look healthy and well, don’t they? Yet, you know they’re counterfeits; you root them up. Many people no longer know what’s good for them. They opened their soil to the world and allowed the world to decide what grew in them; no questions asked!
Empty places invite weeds. Weeds take the place of authentic, productive life. Soon they choke out the good by sheer numbers and their greedy appetites. Weeds look pretty good for a while. It isn’t until you miss the flowers and the fruit, that you notice something has gone awry. In life, people are like gardens. Some are dying but still look good. Sin like weeds is deceptive. People are kept busy and entertained by counterfeit life. Yet they are loosing ground to the world. They are losing the reward of their time and effort. Their work and play have no eternal end, just transitory vigor and flash. It’s really death wrapped in greenery.
This morning I weeded my entire garden. I also went to confession.