"Never be in a hurry; do everything quietly and in a calm spirit. Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, even if your whole world seems upset." Saint Francis De Sales
“Friends, in today’s Gospel Jesus gives us an antidote for fear. Whom or what are you afraid of? That is a very important spiritual question. One way to understand our lives is to look at those things that we seek: wealth, power, privilege, honor, pleasure, friendship. But another way is to turn that question around and determine what or who it is that we fear.
We might fear the loss of material things, the loss of a job, the loss of physical health, the loss of the esteem of others, the loss of personal intimacy, or ultimately, the loss of life itself. We are afraid of many things, but I’d be willing to bet that there is a primary or principal fear. What is it for you?
Now, after identifying that, listen to Jesus: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid." Any and all of the things that we customarily fear—loss of money, fame, pleasure, and power—have to do with this world. What Jesus is saying is that we should not let those fears come to dominate or define our lives, for he is with us—and with him is his peace.”
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On May 21, 1955 Chuck Berry recorded "Maybellene." It sold over a million copies.
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Wind On The Hill
“No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.
It's flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn't keep up with it,
Not if I ran.
But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.
And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.
So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes…
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.”
By A.A.Milne
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“We all have two lives: an inner life and an outer life. Your inner life is your soul life, which includes your mind, will and emotions. Your outer life is your physical life. And while God cares about every detail of your life, He is more concerned with your inner life than your outer life.”
by Joyce Meyer
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"A frog goes into a bank and approaches the teller. He can see from her nameplate that her name is Patty Whack.
“Miss Whack, I'd like to get a $30,000 loan to take a holiday.”
Patty looks at the frog in disbelief and asks his name. The frog says his name is Kermit Jagger, his dad is Mick Jagger, and that it's okay, he knows the bank manager.
Patty explains that he will need to secure the loan with some collateral.
The frog says, "Sure. I have this," and produces a tiny porcelain elephant, about an inch tall, bright pink and perfectly formed.
Very confused, Patty explains that she'll have to consult with the bank manager and disappears into a back office.
She finds the manager and says, "There's a frog called Kermit Jagger out there who claims to know you and wants to borrow $30,000, and he wants to use this as collateral." She holds up the tiny pink elephant. "I mean, what in the world is this?"
(You're gonna love this.)
The bank manager looks back at her and says, "It's a knickknack, Patty Whack. Give the frog a loan. His old man's a Rolling Stone."
(You sang it, didn't you? Yeah, I know you did.)
Never take life too seriously and Have a few Beers tonight at Dinner Time."
Thank you Dick
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Patti Loveless - How Can I Help You Say Goodbye (Live 1994)
“The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.”
Audrey Hepburn
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“To pray means to open your hands before God. It means slowly relaxing the tension that squeezes your hands together and accepting your existence with an increasing readiness, not as a possession to defend, but as a gift to receive. Above all, prayer is a way of life that allows you to find stillness in the midst of the world where you open your hands to God’s promises and find hope for yourself, your neighbor, and your world. In prayer, you encounter God not only in the small voice and the soft breeze, but also in the midst of the turmoil of the world, in the distress and joy of your neighbor, and in the loneliness of your own heart.
Prayer leads you to see new paths and to hear new melodies in the air. Prayer is the breath of your life that gives you freedom to go and to stay where you wish, to find the many signs that point out the way to a new land. Praying is not simply some necessary compartment in the daily schedule of a Christian or a source of support in a time of need, nor is it restricted to Sunday mornings or mealtimes. Praying is living. It is eating and drinking, acting and resting, teaching and learning, playing and working. Praying pervades every aspect of our lives. It is the unceasing recognition that God is wherever we are, always inviting us to come closer and to celebrate the divine gift of being alive.
In the end, a life of prayer is a life with open hands—a life where we need not be ashamed of our weaknesses but realize that it is more perfect for us to be led by the Other than to try to hold everything in our own hands.”
Thank you to my Cursillo brother Dick for sharing this article.
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We need prayers for Dee’s Mom, Lucy, aka, “Nan,” and “Grandma Lucy.”
She is working through some tough pain issues. We spent time at the hospital this morning getting her checked out and updating her meds.
The weather was fair and wood needed to be gathered. Arthur and Issac hitched up the horse to the wagon and headed out early the next morning. The camp was setup near the clearing they had been working on for the last few days. The Oak and Sycamore trees were plentiful here and at the rate they were working they would be finished within the next week. The sun had been up for about an hour and the two men were busy chopping when Arthur thought he heard something. He signaled to Issac to stop and pointed in the direction of the sound. Issac listened but wasn't sure and signaled back shrugging his shoulders. The two of them stood silent for the next few minutes. Then Arthur signaled again and headed for the wagon letting Issac that it was time to leave.
by Russ Lockwood (A report on a War of Roses miniature game)
“Sir Russ, otherwise known as Lord Fauconberg, gazed with aristocratic disdain upon the seething assembly of Yorkist troops. "So many commoners these days," he muttered. "A consequence of a weak kingdom and no shortage of pretenders."
His icy reproof of the chaos clouded his better judgement that he would be far better off carousing in a bedchamber with a flagon of ale and a fiery wench.
Still, his loyalty to the House of York demanded his presence against the array of Lancastrian louts. How it would turn out was anyone's guess, for the forces were even with four great battles to a side. Sir Russ gave his side the edge, for the Lancalouts -- Sir Chris, Sir Phil, and Sir Mike -- had resorted to using a mercenary force from over the sea: some Danish lout named Michael the Bald whose force looked as dangerous as a pastry.
As for the rightful lords of England, Sir Jay, Sir Dave, Sir Rich, and himself, all stalwart and true examples of nobility in the finest traditions of chivalry, three ached for the clash of steel and the fourth for that middlin lager. Providence assured victory ... if only they could keep their knights in line.
As Sir Russ shoved his troops into line of battle, he could not help feeling this was a most unruly a gathering of knights as if the sun had disappeared. He watched the interplay of several knights.
As one knight called his squire a donkey for forgetting to tighten a strap, another nearby misheard the comment, downed his goblet of wine, and took offense. "Hey! You talkin' to me? I said, you talkin' to me?"
"Certainly not, you befouled ragamuffin." "What? You got a beef with me, Sir Loin?" "You drink too much, Sir Rosis."
A third knight intervened in an attempt to prevent words escalating to deeds. "Good and brave knights. Wonders under the heavens occur with the benediction of kind words and fair actions, such that contentment enwraps all who aspire to engage in victorious harmony of mind, body, and soul upon this dawn of righteous bellicosity. Lo, let us embrace the brotherhood of a divine cause enacted on such fields of endeavor as blessed by Heaven."
A fourth knight leaned over to whisper in the speaker's ear. "Get to the point, Sir Quetus."
Sir Quetus glared. "If you can't discern the intended message, you're not so smart, Sir Rebrum." Sir Quetus turned and stalked off in a huff.
A fifth knight sidled up. "Burn. Oh, burn! If I were you, I wouldn't take that. I'd grab him by the throat with one hand and tweak his big pink tomato nose with the other!"
Sir Rebrum took a step towards the insolent knight. "Maybe I should grab you by the throat and shake you like a terrier shakes a rat."
"My pardon, Sir Rebrum," the knight blurted and scuttled away.
"I thought not, you big old bag of hot air, Sir Rocco!" Sir Rebrum shouted. "Besides, Sir Rosis has the big, bigger, biggest red nose of all."
"Hey! You talkin' to me?" challenged Sir Rosis.
Sir Russ had enough of this foolishness. "Cease thine prattle. See to your preparations for battle. If you survive, you can joust or melee or batter your heads in all you want. Until then, we fight the Lancalouts, not each other."
"As Lord Fauconberg commands," Sir Rebrum stated, and bowed.” The other knights bowed as the commander meandered to the other units.”
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On April 29, 1429, Joan of Arc enters the city of Orleans, France which was besieged by the English. The siege was broken on May 8 and the English. Joan was 17 years old.
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The End Of May
The fragrant air is full of down,
Of floating, fleecy things
From some forgotten fairy town
Where all the folk wear wings.
Or else the snowflakes, soft arrayed
In dainty suits of lace,
Have ventured back in masquerade,
Spring's festival to grace.
Or these, perchance, are fleets of fluff,
Laden with rainbow seeds,
That count their cargo rich enough
Though all its wealth be weeds.
Or come they from the golden trees,
Where dancing blossoms were,
That now are drifting on the breeze,
Sweet ghosts of gossamer?
by Katharine Lee Bates
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“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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It’s Friday and the sun is shinning.
Thank you Lord for this beautiful day and thank you that I am here to enjoy it.
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