Beauty without virtue

“Beauty without virtue is like a fair flower that has an offensive odor. But true beauty bathes in that light without which nothing is beautiful. Beauty is a gift of God, like the rain. He allows the rain to fall upon the just and the wicked, and He gives beauty not only to the good, but even to the wicked. Wicked beauty strikes the eye, but the inner beauty of grace wins the soul.” Archbishop Fulton Sheen (Guide to Contentment)Archbishop Fulton Sheen.

What is Relativism?

*Christianity asks, "Isn't the Trinity wonderful?"
*New Age asks, "Isn't my divinity wonderful?"
*Secular Humanism ask, "Isn't our humanity wonderful?"
*Hedonism asks, "Isn't pleasure wonderful?"
*Pragmatism says, "If it works, it's wonderful."
*Buddhism says, "Nothing is wonderful."
*Hinduism says, "All is one-derful."
*Egotism says, "I am wonderful! No question."
*Relativism ends it, "If it's wonderful for you, now that's wonderful."

Grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony

“Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.” G.K.Chesterton, Orthodoxy

Happiness is an inside job

Happiness is an inside job
We are happy if we are grateful and loving
not because everyone else fulfills our every need

Be kind....

The Homemaker

To love means.....

“To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable. Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless.” G.K.Chesterton

Celebration of Life

I attended one of these yesterday and was shocked - really! I didn't know the person who was being lauded and lampooned but he sounded like someone it would have been fun to know. The church was packed. I was amazed at how many people knew this guy -- Wow is all I can say about that. The only person missing at the party was the poor dead guy. The eulogies lasted for an hour and a half - I kid you not. This was not a sad event. Perhaps a few women shed a tear now and then but for the most part it was...."Happy"; however, I haven't been to very many funerals in my life having avoided them "like the plague". Perhaps I got the idea from my Mom that attending funerals was just too sad. I cannot ever remember attending one when I was a child.
The minister spoke a few times and led in prayer a time or two. One thing he said stuck with me - he said that our religion and expression of our faith is a "private matter". Woah...What? Private? These are Christians I'm talking about here (albeit separated brethren). If there is anything I know about Christianity, being a Catholic, it is NOT private, hidden, or secret. What did Jesus say about hiding your light under a bushel? or the virgins who ran out of oil?
I haven't been to a protestant church for decades (except Anglican) - but I was amazed at the changes - not only in the sanctuary er I mean building where they worship but in the attitude of the people themselves. They seemed like "nice" people. Very inclusive since there were women there who made it obvious regarding their life orientation. I cannot put my finger on what was missing for me. Maybe it was because there was no cross, no holy pictures to draw one's eye or perhaps it was because there was no altar. I don't know..but, I did not feel God's presence in the midst of them. For me this was the saddest thing of all.

Remember Armistice Day

When the Frost is on the Punkin

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here --
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock --
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries -- kindo' lonesome-like, but still
A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below -- the clover over-head! --
O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps
Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps;
And your cider-makin' 's over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too! ...
I don't know how to tell it -- but ef sich a thing could be
As the Angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me --
I'd want to 'commodate 'em -- all the whole-indurin' flock --
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!

James Whitcomb Riley