Depth Perception-Fr. Don Hying

I'm looking deeper within my soul this year trying to come to a peaceful acceptance of the life that God has given me in both the blessings and the burdens. One of the blessings that God often uses to help me look deep within myself is my good friend, Fr. Don Hying, the rector of St. Francis de Sales Seminary in Milwaukee. Through his words of wisdom I see myself a little more clearly, I understand myself a little bit better, and gradually I am growing into a deeper acceptance of myself while falling more deeply in love with God. Once again, Fr. Don generously shares his words of wisdom, his scriptural reflection on this Sunday's gospel (Jn 9:1-41), from his most recent Catholic Herald column, with Imprisoned in my Bones readers.



The post-communion song at a wedding I celebrated recently was titled: “If you could see what I see.” The singer ardently wishes that his beloved could see herself as he sees her, because she is so beautiful, authentic and good, but then comes to realize that she can only come to see and know herself through his eyes and perception, as long as he keeps telling her who he sees and how that feels to him.

Today’s Gospel is the moving narrative of the man born blind who is healed by Jesus. Last week was the woman at the well; next week is the raising of Lazarus. These three narratives from John’s Gospel are models of conversion, using the images of water, light and new life and serve as profound reflections both for the catechumens preparing for baptism and the entire Church in this season of Lent. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus repeatedly heals blind people, not only of their physical disability but, more to the point, their lack of spiritual vision.

Our world today is becoming increasingly visual, from posting pictures on Facebook to streaming video on the Web to visualized conversations that are texted. Yet, we can easily remain on the superficial plane of the exterior of things, accepting at face value what we rapidly perceive, but never lingering long enough to dig below the surface of the images that others present to us. Depth perception requires prayer, silence and reflection.

If we just skim along the top layer of Catholicism, the Eucharist becomes a sentimental symbol, the Scriptural stories of Christ become like bedtime tales, and the moral life a naïve and unreachable ideal. If our heart and spirit is not moving ever more deeply into the vast mystery of God, our religious practice quickly becomes an empty ritual that we eventually put in a drawer along with our faded First Communion pictures and broken childhood rosaries.

I know when I am giving prayer short shrift in my life because I stop seeing, truly perceiving the miraculous truth, stunning beauty and overwhelming goodness that surround me. When I go on retreat at New Melleray Abbey, a Trappist monastery in rural Iowa, having stepped away from the ceaseless routine, I immediately see everything in a different light. The sunrise becomes a cosmic event, filled with pulsating light; the birds in the trees are performing a symphony better than any concert hall can offer and the food tastes spectacular because I am actually taking the time to enjoy it.

In reading the lives of Saint Camillus and Saint John of God, two remarkable servants of the sick, I have always been fascinated and inspired by their ability to literally see Christ in the people they served, the more repulsive the better. Their spiritual vision of the Lord in the suffering has a palpability to it, a tangibility that saves it from being a pious thought. The saints loved so astoundingly and sacrificially because they saw the world from God’s perspective. Standing in the dazzling light of Christ, they saw life and death, good and evil, the beauty, tragedy and possibility of the human person in such vivid colors, that they felt their experiences with a passion that we can barely comprehend, and thus did the heroic and bold thing.

Is my vision improving this Lent? Is Sunday Eucharist a consummation of God’s love in my soul? Do I see the beautiful possibilities in the people around me or only their problems and faults? Underneath the thousand details that make up the surface of my life, am I embracing a deep interiority of prayer that, every once in awhile, leads me to the very heartbeat of God? Am I coming to literally see Christ in the poor, the sick, the Mass, the Gospel, the rising of the sun, and my own little life?

In the first reading, Samuel anoints David as king, much to the astonishment of his family. Then he says, “Not as man sees does God see, because man sees the appearance but the Lord looks into the heart.” Through faith, prayer and the sacraments, Jesus gradually heals our vision, to see as He sees and then to become an extension of His love and presence in the world.

EASTER!!!!!!!!!!

Finally my first easter design. Wanted something really soft with pastel colors did a tiny little chic but it came out a little sad. I must say i underestimated this polish looked pink in the bottle but once it dries it has soft purple tones. hope you like.

Used: OPI 'Enchantress'

Banana's in Pajamas

Bananas in pajamas are coming down the stairs,
Bananas in pajamas are coming down in pairs,
Bananas in pajamas are chasing teddy bears,
'cause on Tuesdays they all try to catch 

them unawares

I loved this show so much! B1 and B2 were so cute! 

Hope you like my design inspired by them!

Used: Milani 'Electric Blue and OPI 'Alpine Snow'

Black stripes on hot pink!

I've always kept away from stripes because i feel there such a challenge very easy to mess up. But i took on the challenge and i must say i do like how they came out! Hope you like!

Pieces of Prayer

I bend to pick up a colorful bit of glass,
rub the sand off, and whisper a prayer...
again and again I repeat the action-
bend, rub and pray as I place the sea glass in my bag

before long I have a bag full of pieces of prayer
representing my gratitude and my worry
tangible reminders of my solitary walk
with the Lord on the lakeshore

and my soul feels His peace
through my pieces of prayer

whether the wind blows fierce under sky of gray
and the waves violently crash into rocky shore
or the day is mild with blue sky
and water gently laps at the beach
I am there walking along the water
collecting my pieces of prayer

and my soul feels His peace
through my pieces of prayer

Right Down the Hall

I have worked at my present job for the past fourteen years. I like what I do, I know that I am helping people, and the money I earn is a help to my family budget. So, all's good, right? Not really, not at all...

My employer used to hold an annual company picnic, a huge family gala at the Milwaukee County Zoo, lots of fun for my little ones. It was about ten years ago as my family and I were approaching the zoo when we noticed lots and lots of people holding signs protesting the fact that my employer allowed abortions to be performed at one of their hospitals. Guess which hospital it was? Yep. The very hospital I work at-Aurora Sinai. I was surprised and devasted at the same time, but thankful to those brave men and women who had the courage to stand up for life in a very visable place and bring attention to this horrible yet hidden fact. Aurora Health Care has not had a company picnic since that day. But me? I had no idea that babies were being murdered in the very building in which my WIC (Women, Infants and Children) Clinic is located!

I decided that the only right thing to do would be to quit my job. When I told one of my sisters about my decision, she discouraged me. She told me that my presence at the hospital was combatting the murderous abortions. Because of the good that is done through WIC, I am helping women to keep their babies. Her words convinced me and I kept my job and gave very little thought to the fact that while I am counseling a pregnant woman on the benefits of breastfeeding her baby upon birth, another baby is being torn from the safety of his mother's womb, right down the hall!

I am so sorry to say that I have not done a very good job at promoting life or helping women who have already had abortions. My usual reaction is to avoid the statements made by my clients when they confess to having had abortions. It's just too hard for me to hear so I skip right over it and move on to the next question in the diet and health history I'm required to obtain. Then, after the client leaves my office I whisper a prayer for her. I let fear rule my life for far too long.

During the summer months, a group of nurses from the public school system join us in the WIC Clinic and they provide immunizations to the children who are behind on the required doses they need. Last summer, one of the nurses who was using one of my co-worker's offices for the day, found some pro-life material promoting a Women's Support Center in our area. She became livid! She complained to my boss and told her that we should not be giving those materials out, that those types of places don't allow women the choice to govern their own bodies. My boss, being unsure of who we were giving the pamphlets to consulted with me and another one of my co-workers. We told her that we used to give them out to every pregnant woman we saw, but since the State under whom we are governed recently put restrictions on the amount of materials we give to our clients, we now only give them to the women we feel will benefit from these services. My boss told us to continue to give the materials out to anyone whom we felt could use them. Later, after the nurses had gone, I found the pamphlets in the garbage can.

I couldn't believe the nerve of that nurse! She was using someone else's office and throwing out materials that didn't belong to her! I removed the material from the garbage, and thought about how much that nurse must hate using my office when it's my day off of work. My office is filled with images of Mary with the infant Jesus and other religious pictures and prayers. I'm sure the sight of anything remotely holy bothered her immensely.

Occasionally, when I go to the postpartum unit of the hospital to see one of our clients who just delivered a baby, I will notice a picture of a leaf with a teardrop on the door, the sign meaning that the baby in that room has died. I'll also see the initials "ab" on the list of patients which tells me that a baby was aborted. I take note of the name of the doctor and I am always sure to pray for that innocent babe and for the mother who failed to accept the gift of life that had been offered to her. But my actions stop there.

Yesterday I opened my email from Dan Miller, Milwaukee's 40 Days for Life coordinator and I was shocked to read what he wrote. Why I was shocked I don't know-maybe it was because I had pushed the thought of abortions at my hospital to the back of my mind for so long but now the words were right before my eyes; it was unavoidable-

"So far this campaign, we have seen 11 saves and numerous turn-arounds. For years on end, the entire pro-life community has come together to end abortion by prayer and witnessing at the ‘Foot of the Cross’ - at the abortion mills. You have closed six out the nine Milwaukee area abortion mills over the years. That’s an awesome accomplishment! The three that remain are Affiliated Medical Services, Planned Parenthood and Aurora Sinai . These last three are dug in like a Georgia tick and the only way to get those ticks out is HEAT! "

My employer, the very place that I depend upon to provide bread and butter to my family, is one of three abortion mills in Milwaukee. I'm sick. Just sick. I've known it for all these years and I've done nothing. And chances are good that I will go on doing nothing because I don't know what to do. Do I quit my job and go outside with a pro-life sign? Do I go outside right now with a pro-life sign and surely be fired? And why aren't there ever any protesters here?

I would be very open to suggestions and ideas. My fourteen years of prayer in my office haven't changed anything here. A hospital is supposed to be a life-giving environment, not a life-destroying hell. What can be done to apply the HEAT of which Dan speaks, to end this cruel and senseless destruction now? And more importantly for me personally, what should I do right now to take a stand and make a difference, to bring about an end to the evil that occurs right down the hall?

St. Photini

"Jesus answered and said to her, “If you knew the gift of God and who is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,' you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” John 4:5-42






















In the Orthodox tradition the woman at the well is honored as St. Photini. After her interaction with Christ she converted to Christianity, was baptized by the apostles and given the name Photini which means "the enlightened one". She became a tireless evangelist drawing many others to faith in Christ. In the words of Fr. Dave Cooper, "Christ gave her the gift of faith and she in turn gave that gift back to Him."

My parish has a reputation for being "liberal." I am often asked why I belong to such a liberal parish and it makes me think of the classic pick-up line, "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" The truth is, like the sinful woman at the well, I too, am sinful, have met Christ and have been converted. My guess is that everyone of us can call that statement true for themselves, whether we are comfortable admitting our sinfulness or not. Like St. Photini, my parish has been judged and labeled as liberal without the benefit of anyone looking deep within to see the good and holy people who belong there and who do their best to turn from sin and follow the gospel.

According to Fr. Dave, "We don't even know for sure that the living arrangements and lifestyle of the woman at the well was sinful. Could it be that she outlived her previous husbands and now the man with whom she was living was scared to marry her for fear that he would suffer the same fate of death? Yet we are quick to judge her and label her a sinful woman."

In the same vein, people are often quick to judge my parish and everyone who belongs there as liberal, dissenting Catholics who only want to change the Church rather than obediently follow the Pope as we should. I think if people want to see that in my parish, they will, but in truth, there may be just as many dissenting Catholics in parishes that are labeled traditional.

Only Christ can see the truth in our individual hearts. Only Christ can offer us the gift of faith and ask us to return it to him by loving all of those in our midst-liberal or traditional. It is Christ who is coming to us on our mountainside whether we are Jew or Samaritan, traditional or liberal, it is Christ who is calling us to conversion, to a change of heart, to see Him in all things and all people and in turn to share Him with all who cross our path, to evangelize and share our faith with the world.

St. Photini, you were judged as a sinful woman. Whether this is true or not, we know that we all carry sin in our hearts and are in need of the forgiveness that only Christ can provide. Be an example for us of the joy that comes from abandoning our sinful pasts for a new life in the living waters of the Lord. Be with us as we strive to share our faith with others. Amen.

Angels of Annunciation

On this most blessed of Feast Days, my two youngest children and I walked into the pediatrician's office for a quick check up and were surprised when he asked them if they knew what feast day it was today. (They didn't know, much to my embarrassment!) So a big thank you to Dr. Swietlik for the quick religion lesson! How blessed our family is to have a doctor who combines medicine with faith!

I've been blessedly busy these days with my new role in the lay organization Roses for Our Lady. It's been a wonderfully challenging opportunity for me, but it leaves little time for writing or reading blogs, much to my dismay. So, I hope that you will enjoy this re-post for the Feast of the Annunciation. It's one of my favorites and I hope that it will become one of your favorites as well!

Angels of Annunciation

Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God”…Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her. Luke 1: 26-38




















We all have annunciation moments, but unfortunately, we are often unaware of exactly what is happening to us. Sometimes in our busyness we become so preoccupied with ourselves and our own needs that we fail to recognize those angels when they come to us.

In my job as a WIC (Women, Infants and Children) Nutritionist, I have found that the angels of annunciation come to me nearly constantly, but I can be so focused on what I have to do after work, or some problem with my children that nags at the back of my mind, or my own level of fatigue from lack of sleep, that I can let those angels in and out of my office all day long without realizing who they are. What a shame!

But when I open my heart and open my eyes, I see that angels of annunciation are plentiful. God is trying to speak to me through them all day, every day, and when I recognize them, I can’t help but be changed by their message.

I recently met an angel who was a drug addict suffering from the horrific pains of withdrawal. Instead of sitting in my usual seat of judgment, I opened my heart to recognize that the message she was telling me was “Do not be afraid, God is calling you to see through my addiction, to find Jesus inside me. Jesus suffered terribly and now I am suffering as well. Are you open to helping me? It is you that God is calling, you are the favored one.” So I listened to her story, with tears in my eyes and I was able to offer her comfort and assistance. I became the handmaid of the Lord.

I also met an angel who was a student working through her dietetic internship requirements for graduation. Instead of rushing through my usual day trying to get my job done, I opened my heart to recognize the message that she was telling me was “Do not be afraid, God is calling you to see that you were once in my shoes. Are you open to helping me? It is you that God is calling, you are the favored one.” So I slowed down from my busy agenda and found the patience to teach her the steps required to give nutrition counseling to young mothers in need. I became the handmaid of the Lord.

One of my favorite angels was a two-year-old girl going through the negative stages through which every two-year-old must pass. Instead of becoming irritated by her temper tantrums and constant use of the word “NO”, I opened my heart to recognize the message that she was telling me was “Do not be afraid, God is calling you to offer me kindness, to remember that it is the little ones such as these to whom Jesus offered the Kingdom of God. Are you open to helping me? It is you that God is calling, you are the favored one.” So I turned to her with a smile. I offered her a book, a compliment and a pat on the head. She walked out of my office with a smile on her face, calling out “I love you!” “I love you, too!” I called back. I became the handmaid of the Lord.

God’s angels of annunciation are coming to you as well. They are in every person that crosses your path. Will you be open to their messages? Will you hear them say “Do not be afraid, you have found favor with God?" Will you feel God’s Spirit coming to you and allow yourself to be open to it? Say yes! Become the handmaid of the Lord and watch the world transform into a beautiful place!

Happy Feast of the Annunciation!

a re-post from 6/09, 3/10 and also found on Catholicmom.com

Spring Lilac Flowers

I've used this color several times but it never gets old. I love how beautiful it is, perfect for my spring designs.

Used OPI 'Amazing Lazing Lilac with different opi colors.

Dot Crazy!

Went to IKEA and got some ideas for my nail designs. I love when they pair up neutral pale colors with bright bold colors. So did a mixture of both with simple dots going in different directions. I really love how it looks, hope you like + I LOVE THE NAME OF THE POLISH 'Chips NO Potatoes' how clever is that!

Used: Essie 'Chips No Potatoes', Nicole by OPI 'My Lifesaver' and 'The Grape Debate'

Seed of Poopy!

My nails are still so extremely short, so I have
just been trying out some of the colors that i have out.
used Nicole by OPI 'Pop of Poppy' as a background
with a little bit of this precious gold like bits by Milani
'Gold' and added two simple flowers.

Andielapirata got Shattered!

I'm so exited! I finally have The Black Shatter from the Katy Perry OPI Collection. Looks amazing! So I did gel nails on my sister Andrea a.k.a (Andielapirata) and since the weather has been so crazy (It has rained cats and dogs the whole day) I took that as an inspiration and did a mad gray cloud with thunder storm and a white happy cloud with rain on it. Hope you like it.

Used: Revlon Top Speed 'Lily' and OPI 'Black Shatter!

Blessed Is the Fruit of Your Womb

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." Galatians 6:9

We were alone outside the abortuary on a chilly March evening. It was the first time that any of us had gone to pray at the abortion mill, to make our prayers of supplication for the lives who had not yet been given a voice. The clinic was closed and the busy urban neighborhood was just picking up the feel of nightlife as couples walked by arm in arm, rowdy groups walked into the bar next door, the tattoo shop across the street turned on the flickering neon light, and cars quickly entered and departed from the gas station.

My husband and I, along with our friend, Dave, drew our rosaries from our pockets and prayed the sorrowful mysteries in front of this place that knows far too many sorrows. Dave reminded us that wherever two or three are gathered in His name, there the Lord is also, and he then read some scripture. We shared some uplifting stories about converted abortionists and those who work tirelessly for the pro-life effort. The chill was entering more deeply into our bones and we were getting ready to leave when a man came and stood next to us in silence.

Dave broke the ice and greeted him. He said that he had just wanted to pray the rosary. I told him that we would be happy to pray the rosary with him and so we retrieved our beads from our pockets once again and we prayed another set of the sorrowful mysteries. Each time I spoke the words "Blessed is the fruit of your womb," something moved inside my heart, and I realized that here, in this place where more prayer is offered than in any other secular place, those words have a profound meaning. Blessed is the fruit of every womb, for all life is in His image. And in this place, that fruit is cast out and treated as if it were rotted, decayed, without worth. It isn't offered the dignity in which a blessing from God should be held. The fifth sorrowful mystery occurs again and again here as those precious babies are crucified and cast out from their mother's wombs.

"Prayer reaches out to where we cannot be." Dan Miller, coordinator, 40 Days for Life-Milwaukee

So our prayers went out for the mothers who, feeling their own agony in their desolate part of the garden of life, don't know or understand the value of the life they carry within them.

"Forgive them Father, for they don't know what they do." Luke 23:34

And our prayers went out for the workers whose eyes are blind and whose hearts are cold to the heinous crime they commit day in and day out as they scourge the innocents without restraint.

"There are six things the Lord hates, yes, seven are an abomination to him; haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood." Proverbs 6:16-19

And our prayers went out for the seeds of life that had been planted with no one to garden and tend them to fruition.

"I am the vine. You are the branches. He that remains in me will bear great fruit." John 15:5

And when we were through, and we turned to say good-bye to the man who had joined us, he thanked us for praying with him. He told us that he was in the neighborhood and just felt like coming here and praying, that it had been quite a few years since he had prayed at this clinic. And then he told us that the man he used to come here and pray with many years ago was Fr. Don Hying, the same priest whose words about his prayer experience at these doors of death inspired me to want to come here to pray.

Today, at this place where souls have been tragically lost far more often than they are saved, I felt the presence of God. Although I was now shivering from the cold, my heart was warm, for I knew that my prayers and the prayers of those who joined me would somehow bring the blessed fruit within the womb of a desperate young mother to life.

And as we walked back to Dave's van, we saw a young couple walking arm in arm, smiling and laughing with one another, and we couldn't help but notice that her womb was ripe with a growing life.

"Truly you have formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother¹s womb. I give you thanks that I am fearfully, wonderfully made; wonderful are your works. My soul also you knew full well; nor was my frame unknown to you when I was made in secret, when I was fashioned in the depths of the earth"
Psalm 139:13-15

Life Times Two

Today is the day that Paul and I will go to the abortion mill with our friend Dave, and hopefully many others from our parish, to pray and witness for life for the 40 Days For Life campaign. I thought it fitting to share this story about some lives that I have saved several years ago while at work. With the grace of God, I hope to save many more in my lifetime through much prayer and a steady witness to life.

Life Times Two

She walked into my office and immediately crumbled into tears. I knew this wasn’t going to be an ordinary WIC (Women, Infants and Children) nutrition counseling experience. I put aside any thoughts I may have had about teaching her to have a healthy pregnancy through diet, and instead I opened my heart to her and listened to her story.

She had just come from the doctor and he had given her very bad news. She was pregnant with twins, which would normally be a cause for great joy and great excitement even with the overwhelming anxiety of caring for two babies at once. She was 35 years old, diabetic and obese. Her doctor had told her that there was no way that she could deliver healthy babies under those circumstances. He had advised abortion for one of the babies.

Abortion was not something she wanted to consider. She wanted to keep both babies. Not having any medical expertise myself, I hesitated to give her any advice in this area, so I simply shared with her the facts that I knew from common sense, my own personal experiences, and my background in nutrition. I told her that 35 is not too old to have a baby, and I shared my personal story of my pregnancy when I was 35. There were risks with that pregnancy as well, but with proper medical care and faith in God, I gave birth to a healthy and beautiful baby girl. In this day and age, many women put off childbirth until later in life, well into the 40’s in fact, with great success. Also, since she was already seeing a specialist for her diabetes, he would be able to help her manage her diabetes throughout the pregnancy. Being diabetic and pregnant is not such an unusual or difficult situation today. I suggested that she find another doctor who would be willing to work closely with her to assure a successful pregnancy and safe delivery for both of her babies. By the time she left my office, she was hugging me and telling me that she wished I were her doctor!

I left work that day feeling that I had done more good by listening and sharing with this client than I had ever done in any of my nutrition counseling sessions. I continued to keep her in my prayers but hadn’t seen her again for a long time.

It was a year later, when I called one year old twins into my office. I didn’t recognize the name on the chart and wasn’t thinking about this particular client. She looked familiar to me, and I suppose I did to her as well. And then she said, “I remember you, you are the one who encouraged me to seek a new doctor. I followed your advice as you can see!”

Those twins were the cutest little boys I ever saw! They were dressed alike with matching skull caps and blue jeans and had so much energy! They were healthy and beautiful and so was mom! She had hope in God and hope in herself and the results were beyond perfect!

(an edited re-post from the archives)

Prayer of the Icon

every movement of the brush
every drop of paint carefully
released to the wood

is a prayer written with care
from a heart
overflowing with love

and I look at the icon of
Christ, the King of my heart
and I pray

for the one whose
craft brought this image
of Christ to life

the icon of Christ
is alive for me
I can almost see His heart beating

hear His voice calling to me
whispering words of love to me
His servant

my King reminds me
that the pains of this world
will be overcome

and one day I will rejoice with Him
forever in the splendor
of His Most Sacred Heart

O Jesus, King of my heart
how I long for that day
when our hearts will eternally be one!

~many, many thanks to Christi, my sweet friend, whose many hours of prayer while writing icons must be the source of her love, generosity and kindness-the above picture of the Most Holy Sacred Heart of Jesus is the work of her steady brush and her heart-felt prayer

Glitz and Glamour!

I'm enjoying my short nails! Finding new designs to do to them has been a bit challenging since i don't have that much space to work with. But hope you like this one, I wanted to included roses, lips, eyelashes something very girly so i used to different polishes as a base and decided to add little silver balls. 

Used: Nicole by OPI 'It's Possible', 'Prized Possession Purple', and Milani 'Disco Lights'

The Chair

Last fall I was visiting one of my all-time favorite places, The Salzmann Library at St. Francis de Sales Seminary, when I was greeted by a mass of chairs as I walked in the door. "What's up with the chairs?" I asked Mark, one of the library staff members, and was told that they were being put away in storage where nobody would probably ever see them again. I couldn't help but notice what nice condition they were in. "Too bad," I said. "We could use nice chairs like that in our house. My kids are forever stepping on the spindles and breaking them. It drives my husband nuts. I think that when he dies, he will have a bottle of glue in his hand as a testimony to all of the time he has spent gluing the chairs back together!"

The same thing could have been said about my own father. He was forever repairing chairs and then fussing about how recklessly we nine kids would sit in them, often rocking back on two legs, or not having them evenly balanced just right on the uneven kitchen floor so they wouldn't wobble. It must be the curse of fatherhood to worry about kitchen chairs!

As I was lost in those youthful memories, Mark took me by surprise when he asked me how many chairs I would like to take home with me, and then he helped me load up the back of my van. What fun it is to have part of my favorite place in my very own home! My family and I are now the proud owners of eight fine, used library chairs and we make very good use of them every night at the dinner table.

Or not.

I wonder, does every family with a majority of teenage boys have as much constant chaos in it as mine does? Dinner always includes loud and lively banter about the fights they witnessed at school, which teacher gives the least homework or the latest sports news, all mixed in with a healthy dose of teasing one another.

While dishes are assigned and everyone is busy clearing the table and heading off for homework or evening activities, there is sure to be some type of physical steam being aggressively released as the boys begin with good-natured slapping that often ends up in a physical wrestle of sorts. Tonight was no different as a classic scene of rough-housing ensued with one son teasing, the other punching back. But to our horror one son got carried away and picked up one of our precious library chairs in a classic WWF wrestling move and lifted it as if he were going to swing it at his brother. Dad effectively put an end to that nonsense.

All he had to say was "Hey! A priest sat in that chair!" and the fight was over with the chair once again gently placed at the kitchen table, and the two troublemakers doing dinner dishes as punishment for their crime. Such is the respect our family feels for the priesthood, that holy and venerable vocation, that an ordinary chair can become a sacred item simply because a priest had used it during his Seminary studies!

Finding the sacred in the ordinary-isn't it amazing that God reveals his presence in the simple things? In addition to chairs, I have gratefully found Him in--

~an unbuttoned coat on a March afternoon
~gentle words of understanding from a friend
~the shifting sands of the beach after the snow melts
~the gift of hearty bread from Sister Doris each week
~the North Star lighting the sky and guiding my life
~a note of thanks in the mail with the gift of icons enclosed
~using the gifts He has given me to work for His glory
~laughter at the dinner table after a long day
~working off the weight and the stress on the elliptical trainer
~lake so blue I could melt in it

Where do you find the sacred in your ordinary?

St. Patrick's Day!

Happy St. Patrick's day! I did two designs hope you like them!

Used: OPI ' Symphony in Gold', 'One Time Lime' and Milani 'Gold'

Used: OPI ' Brilliant Idea', 'One Time Lime', and SinFul Colors 'Snow me white'

These are my new inquisitions love them! 

Moving Fences

At Mass this morning, Fr. Dave shared this wonderful story:



"Many years ago, there was a woman who lived in a small village in France. Trained as a nurse, she devoted her life to caring for the sick and needy. After many years of kind and selfless service to the village's families, the woman died.

She had no family of her own, so the townsfolk planned a beautiful funeral for her, a fitting tribute to the woman to whom so many owed their lives.

The parish priest, however, pointed out that, because she was a Protestant, she could not be buried in the town's Catholic cemetery. The villagers protested, but the priest held firm. It was not easy for the priest either, because he too had been cared for by the woman during a serious illness. But the law of the Church was very clear; she would have to be buried outside the fence of the cemetery. The day of the funeral arrived, and the whole village accompanied the woman's casket to the cemetery, where she was buried outside the fence. But that night, a group of villagers, armed with shovels, sneaked into the cemetery. They quietly set to work moving the fence." (source unknown)

"When Mass is over," he said, "we will leave this holy place, but then, like those villagers, it will be our job to spend the day moving fences, drawing every event of our day into the realm of God, seeing Him in all things. In this way, our entire day will become a prayer. In the words of St. Francis de Sales, 'For the best prayer is that which keeps us so occupied with God that we don't think about ourselves or what we are doing.'"

O Lord, sometimes it is so hard to move those fences, to see You in others and to see You in hardships and to build my fence around You so that You are never left out in the cold, away from my heart. I get so busy that I forget to turn to You, to think of You. Lord, at those moments when I am occupied with something other than You and Your presence in this amazing world that You created, send your angel to guide me in moving the fence so that you will always remain within the boundaries of my heart and every moment of my day will become a prayer. Amen.

Sparkling Purple!

This color is so pretty didn't want to do much to it so i just added some flowers!

Nicole by OPI Bieber Collection 'One Less Lonely Glitter'

Flowers and Stripes

Short Nails! Unfortunately my wonderful long nails broke, but im embracing my short nails and i love how they look. Did flowers and stripes love the contrast of it, Hope you like my design.

Used: Nicole by OPI 'Hint of Mint', 'Shop Around the Clock', 'Playin Hooky', 'The Grape Debate', 'Sicillian Vermillian', and Milani 'Boltin Blue'

Grounded

can I travel into tomorrow
or return to yesterday?

can I move the hands of time
change the position in which they lay?

I can only be here now
grounded is where I'll stay

for I'm grounded in the Lord
my only Truth and Way

the present is full of His presence
He is always here, now and today

I can feel Him in my soul
as I close my eyes and pray.

Born Again for Life

On February 28th, I posted The Truth Hurts about the pro-life banner that was taken down in New York City because some people found it to be offensive. I ended that post with a prayer and am amazed at how quickly God has worked to answer that prayer...

Lord, give me a heart of compassion, a heart of love for all. Wake me up from the dread fear and sorrow that grips my heart in the presence of painful truths. Give me strength to cope and courage to turn the hearts of others so that everyone will value life, will give life, your greatest gift to us all. And please, God, don't ever let me grow comfortable upon hearing those words "My most recent pregnancy ended in abortion." Let me always feel the discomfort and pain that the loss of innocent life rightly deserves. Amen.

And then I promptly forgot that I had written that prayer and went on with my busy life.

This past Monday morning just a little over a week since I wrote that prayer, I received an email from Fr. Don Hying with only a few words-"Just wanted to share this with you." I was so deeply and immediately moved by what I read in his attachment that with his permission, I sent it to everyone I knew and then posted it here on this blog and sent the link to Deacon Greg Kandra at the Deacon's Bench. It wasn't long before the good Deacon posted Fr. Don's story as well.

But that wasn't enough. For I now knew that I had to do more. Sharing Fr. Don's story was one thing, and really it was quite easy for me to do, but now I felt that God was calling me to do more than just get the word out...God was calling me to act.

With those few words-"Just wanted to share this with you"- I heard the voice of God telling me to get ready to change my life, to be born again, because He was about to answer my prayer...

Way back when in 1976, I was a fifth grade student at Sacred Heart Catholic Grade school in the small city of Manitowoc, WI. My teacher encouraged me to enter a forensics contest with the theme "Together We Will..." My mother decided for me that I would speak about abortion. Truthfully, I think she really wrote the speech, "Together We Will Fight Abortion," for me. I took first place in the city's Optimist Club Oratorical Contest that year and went on to compete against several high school students in a zone competition with the same speech and won third place.

Following that I presented that same speech for several Catholic women's groups and then my nerves finally got the best of me and I asked my mom to say no the next time someone asked me to present it. The words that my mother wrote and the way in which I presented them were strong enough to win a contest and touch hearts way back then, but they weren't strong enough for me to live them. In the thirty-five years following fifth grade I never really did anything in my life to support the pro-life cause or to fight abortion.

Sure, I donated to Wisconsin Right to Life whenever they would call. Yes, my family and I stood along a busy highway holding pro-life signs each October for the annual Life Chain in our community. Of course, I have always voted pro-life. But those things are easy compared to actively praying outside of an abortion clinic, standing face to face with women who are about to kill the child within their wombs.

So, I called my friend Dave who organizes the Life Chain group for my parish. I asked him if he could help me get a group of people together to join in prayer with the 40 Days for Life campaign at the abortion clinic. Dave was eager to help and we arranged a date, this March 19th, when he and I and hopefully many others will join together in prayer with the purpose of saving lives. And it is my hope that March 19th will be the first of many days when I prayerfully witness for life at the abortuary.

And so, this Lent, my prayer, my fasting, my almsgiving-will all be offered to save the lives of those innocent, sweet, precious little babies. God is reborn in me each and every day. With every day that I wake to the morning light, rub my eyes and flutter my lashes, I am born again to God's love for me, God's gifts to me, God's life in me; but, those babies torn from their mother's wombs never get the light of day, the flutter of lashes, the chance to be born even once. For those innocent babies, for those mothers who swallow lies and carry shame and heartache instead of life, for those doctors and deathscorts and office workers who close their hearts to the truth-I will give my all this Lent.

Doktor nOnsensical Confesses His Love for Emmanuelle Vaugier

It's no secret, sometimes the only reason for continuing an awful, awful horror movie is for watching the lead babe in all her splendor bear through the torture of whatever atrocity is placing her in trouble. The fact that it's a bad movie only adds sympathy to the moment, allowing the viewer to share in the "horror" and the "agony" of whatever bad job said babe may have taken purely for the money. (I'm guessing it's for the money. Granted, maybe it's a fun cast to film with, knowing full well the product is subpar in advance.)

One of these leading ladies that has had the old Doktor salivating whenever she's on screen has been Emmanuelle Vaugier. She's been in such atrocities as the made-for-TV sequel House of the Dead 2, a SyFy channel-produced romp in adjunct to famed miscreant Uwe Boll's original video game adaptation travesty. Ironically, Boll's addition was so terrible that SyFy's attempt didn't look so bad in comparison. (In actuality, it was like comparing an Arby's Beef N Cheddar to a pile of human excrement.) It definitely helped the production that she "starred" in it though, even if her acting is/was dry and unemotional.

One of the more recent atrocities I've seen her in was Uwe Boll's Far Cry, a low, low budget adaptation that's sole high point is that the DVD box managed to look almost identical to the original video game cover. Boosh! However, Ms. Vaugier graced audiences with her presence in this nuclear fallout of a movie, raising the overall bar from 0 to 1.5 out of a 10.0 scale. (Admittedly, she was aided by "co-star" Udo Kier as the "mad scientist" who constantly finds himself listening to Wagner's 'Parsifal' overture. Oh, Michael Pare was in here too... albeit for a brief moment.)

Before I continue, I'm sure you're all wondering what the point in all this is. Why is some ratso pus fuck like ol' Dok nOnsensical here ravin' like a teenage boy about some chick nobody except maybe the readers of Maxim and avid bad movie fans worldwide has ever heard of?

Aha! That's where I've got you! She was in two SAW movies and apparently on Charlie Sheen's now defunct Three and a Half Men as the role of Mia! (The last bit was according to IMDB, as I still reserve the right to say I have never watched that sitcom.)

In all seriousness though, I think it's the result of what happens when one watches too many bad movies. They all begin to run together, and they interface with the human DNA - rewriting and recoding the strands so that cynicism runs deeper, so that a pessimistic outlook of humanity becomes part of the viewer's hardware, destroying any notion that humans may still have good in them. Bad movies are like any other crime. They ensnare the victim and rob said victim of a piece of his or her soul, mining away at this "soul" bit by bit.

It's in times like these, however, that viewers latch on to the only sympathetic character they can - the last vestige of hope on the road to salvation. In my case, it's become Emmanuelle Vaugier, a woman who has been in a Uwe Boll production, a SyFy Channel film, and two SAW movies and lived to tell the tale. She's traveled down that perpetual 'Heart of Darkness' Joseph Conrad envisioned and survived, only to remain as beautiful and awe-inspiring as ever.

For that, I officially nominate her as a recipient for the Nobel Peace Prize.

Melon + Mint = Delicious!

 I decided to choose randomly this time and which ever nail polish i would get my hand on first would be the color. And the winner was this gorgeous orange that has so much shine. So i decided to design around this beautiful color, all i could think of was flowers. So here it is hope you like!

Used: OPI 'Melon of Troy', 'Hing of Mint', and CG 'Gold Rush'

Marked

I receive the ashes that label me as His child, His own.

Dust flakes down into my eyes, flirting with my lashes and
blurring my vision of worldly things, reminding me that the
spiritual realm can often contain that which is dirty, dusty and dark.

I let the ash that marks me settle deep within my soul,
allowing it to mingle with the sorrow and joy that God's love
has carefully placed within me.

Those fierce emotions dwelling in my soul churn the dark ashes,
the reminder of sin and suffering,
to create something new and pure from them,
preparing me for what will hopefully be
my eventual presentation to the Lord in Heaven.

I am marked as His own and will carry that mark
from my forehead to my soul
beyond this season of Lent and into forever.

(a revised re-post from the archives)

The AWESOME Brigade

Ego mania is a funny concept. As loving, caring humans, we promote ego mania to our children through covert names like "confidence" and "self-esteem". To some (Some? What am I saying? Many. MANY.) extents it is necessary for survival. To live a more fulfilling life and generally be happier, we more or less need to love ourselves and who WE are as independent individuals with our own "unique" perspectives on life that have not in any way, shape, or form been manipulated and molded by corporate and/or institutional entities designed to train us like the proverbial monkeys we are.

Boosh.

Anyway, along with our ego mania comes a set of "rules" we ascribe and agree upon as a greater, communal whole. Be confident. But don't you dare be an egotistical hack, or we'll love you even more (this goes double for people we find sexually appealing). After all, confidence is a great attractor, is it not? We all love a stalwart "hero in the face of adversity", do we not?

My God, that sounds like a part of a bad plot synopsis!

Moving on, there's something I noticed in the world of ego mania that's got me irked. It's a "great divide" if you will that really just digs underneath my skin worse than an "Alabama tick" (Thanks Jesse Ventura). It's so irritating and distressing I imagine it's similar to finding out I have testicular cancer from resting my laptop on my lap too much and then needing to have surgery to remove one of my two diamonds in the family jewelry bag.

Yeah. That bad.

This divide stretches beyond the normal limits of society's basic douchebaggery. In fact, the people who perpetuate this don't even realize they're ascribing themselves to levels above normal assholes. They just go about what they're doing feeling as if they've done the world no disservice. Granted, it's not surprising to some extent, but I've met a lot of normal assholes in my life. In fact, I am one (I'm of the asshole clan that sits around enjoying social disharmony and pointing out discrepancies in the human matrix). Most normal assholes, however, are aware of their social strata. They KNOW what they're doing, and for one reason or another, they simply do not care.

Now, please note, there is also a subclass of humans known as dicks, but that's not to be covered in this little writing exercise. I'll talk about dicks when I'm good and ready (if ever).

The new kids on the block in social douchebaggery I speak of I officially dub as members of "The AWESOME Brigade". Now, note that AWESOME is written in all caps because the "awesomeness" of these people reaches a height beyond "epic". These creatures are relatively normal, uninteresting people who have relatively normal, uninteresting hobbies, and, as I've come to find, they typically stem from middle or upper class backgrounds financially-speaking. It's simply, for one reason or another, their levels of self-esteem and confidence have reached an apex to where they ascribe their "unique" attributes as being above the social programming of the rest of us dolts. That part makes them the basic asshole. The special subclass comes into play when they flaunt it without consciously knowing it, replying back with the same phrase over and over again for every compliment or statement of gratitude they receive.

"Hey Timmy, great job on your paper!"

"Awwww... That's just 'cuz I'm awesome!"

-or-

"Sharon, you were a demon in the sack last night."

"Ted, you know it's 'cuz I'm awesome!"

-or-

"I really appreciate you helping me out. It means a lot to me, and your educated input is greatly appreciated."

"Yup. I'm just being awesome.... 'cuz I'm awesome!"

Now class, would someone kindly like to explain to me the standard, communal Modus Operandi for courteous etiquette on "thank you's" and "you're welcome's"? Anyone? Anyone?

Far be it from me to normally support the status quo and argue in sake of that evil institution anarchists and dumb high school students call "The SYSTEM". I'm normally playing on the opposite side of the fence smoking pot with the dumb high school drop-outs talking about how "The SYSTEM" is butchering our families and keeping us down. It's usually more interesting over there in a sick Star Wars Rebel Alliance sense, and I also get my jollies from entertaining and sometimes enacting sociopathic thoughts.

However, this "AWESOME"....ness.... will not stand, man!

I'm hearing it more frequently lately, and it's driving me completely bonkers. I can't be the only one, can I? I mean, it's normal to fantasize about taking these people down a notch, right? That's classic psychological aggression brought on by standard "mommy issues" people may have! Right?

The truth of the matter is, some of these people can be so sweet at times. They can be so giving and so helpful. So loving. So incredibly normal and average that there doesn't really seem to be anything at all special about them. In fact, some of them seem to try so hard to be different to uphold this "awesome" status and may come off as phony. Yet, there is a sense of sweetness there one can find - a beating heart lodged within a mass-produced robot.

Then they ruin the moment.

One minute a female member of The AWESOME Brigade is offering you a hand to pull yourself up after you trip over a rock. Then, after you thank her, she kindly smiles at you with those deep, beautiful blue oceans of hers and says, "No worries. It's just 'cuz I'm AWESOME!"

Fuck.

Take a compliment with some grace....

Maybe I'm wrong though? Maybe my biggest problem with this whole issue is that when someone makes that claim (rather them having another human being ascribe that detail to them), it opens up that person to be analyzed, studied, and judged?Claiming one's self as being awesome means that person needs to be top-notch unique. I mean really UNIQUE. So unique their shit doesn't smell like any other human's. And, as I've come to find, that's hardly possible.

After all, we're all homogenized products by design. A few able bodies mass produced our minds and unleashed us upon each other. Sure, there can be some irregularities in the programming and truly a few gleaming gems, but those people are few and far between. They're rare and often don't even know it, so they respond back with the modesty of any decent person.

They don't simply say, "Dat's 'cuz I be crazy awesome!"

Stay awesome.

Doktor nOnsensical signing off.

P.S. Sometimes finding out one has testicular cancer isn't so bad. It means one might be able to drop an infinitesimally small amount of weight that's just enough to win the Tour de France.