At the Hour of Death

Father Nick had a question and answer session after Mass. One of his explanations really hit home with me. He was talking about death, and how Satan waits to attack you then--when you are at your physical weakest. "Wait that happened to me!" See my poem on Cronkhite Canada Syndrome.

Fr. Nic continued: "That's why it's so important for the Salve Squad to come in. The Salve Squad consists of my Dominican brothers and sisters being with you, when you are close to death. They pray with you and sing the Salve Regina."

Immediately I thought of the Hail Mary. At the end, don't we pray "...and at the hour of our death?"

There's also the Divine Mercy Chaplet that should be prayed when one is dying. Sister Faustina's diary says, "At the hour of their death, I defend every soul that will say this chaplet as I do My own glory (...). When this chaplet is said by the bedside of a dying person, God's anger is placated and his unfathomable mercy envelops the soul" (Diary, 811).

Even in wikipoedia I learned: In Roman Catholic teachings, Saint Michael is one of the angels who are assumed present at the hour of a person's death. In his role as the patron of holy souls, Michael reaches to souls near death and saves them, hence frustrating Satan. Traditionally, he is charged to assist the dying and accompany their souls to their private judgment, bring them to purgatory and afterwards, present them to God at their entrance to heaven.

Even when I was wasting away, I had enough sense to ask for Saint Michael's help. I didn't have the strength of any sort of mental acuity to pray the Rosary or remember anything else. But I remembered Michael the Archangel, in my "valley of tears."

When my death comes around, I pray that I have my family around, and that we are all praying a Rosary, so Mary will guide me home. Just imagine, our souls being united in prayer. As St. Catherine of Siena said, "the way to heaven is heaven..."

A Catholic Look at Euthanasia and Assisted Suicide

I have more than a little interest in the assisted suicide proposal being put on the ballot, in Massachusetts.  It wasn’t so long ago, that I was thought to be dying.  Ugh—that purgatorial illness!  People still talk about being afraid that I was dying.  I literally was wasting away. 

I knew I was a burden.  My husband was my right hand.  And my left!  He cooked, fed, dressed, and cleaned me up when I was too weak.  I was wasting away in my own diarrhea.  It’s called Cronkhite Canada Syndrome and it’s an adult onset disease.  Old, weak people die from it, because they’re too weak to fight it off. 

We discussed putting me in a nursing home.  I couldn’t expect hubby to be at my beck and call forever.  It would have been for the best.  He was relieved from responsibilities by other members of my family.  I was a burden to everyone I loved.  My death would have been a relief—to everyone.  We discussed my funeral.

That’s what I thought.  I was praying to die.  Death couldn’t come quickly enough.  I wasn’t suicidal because the fifth commandment is something I know well.  (My apostolate is prison ministry.)  But because I was weak, and mentally depressed, I could have been easily exploited by  misguided health workers.  I also wondered  if I had lacked health insurance (Thank you Governor Romney.) would I have felt pressured to die, to ease my family’s financial burden of mounting medical bills. The cheapest way out was to die.   I was way too vulnerable to the opinions of others, in my condition. 

I wasn’t in excruciating pain, but I was suffering.  Because I am Christian, I know the value of redemptive suffering.  I put myself into God’s hands and if He permitted me to live, it was because He had more work for me to do.  If that work was to suffer then so be it, I’ll be a good Christian example of suffering.  His ways are not my ways.  I wasn’t in the mood to meditate on it, I just prayed acceptance.

It was simple.  I would die in God’s time, not mine.  He knows best.  And it’s a good thing I didn’t do anything rash, because it wasn’t my time.  God had other plans.  I’m still working on them, but the lessons I learned from that experience were life changing. 

That death wish was depression.  I wonder if that’s the case with those who have committed euthanasia, or asked for assisted suicide.  Most physical pain can be managed.  The book of Exodus tells us that we are stewards of life.  We are not God; we are answerable to God, for how we have cared for life.  How would one explain that we played God and decided who would die, and who wouldn’t?

I know that the ballot question on euthanasia and assisted suicide will couch the question in words of compassion.  But I’m telling you the words are just a misleading, erroneous seduction.  The question is  really, “Who decides whether you live or die.?”  It shouldn’t be the decision of the vulnerable sick person, who probably needs depression medication.  And it shouldn’t be the decision of those who look upon the ill as a burden.  And it can’t be left to politicians to decide by popular opinion.  Genocide has been committed upon those whom society has decided were burdensome: the poor, the frail, elderly, marginalized, minorities because they have no voice, people who lack health insurance, etc.  Good Lord!  This ballot question is a slippery slope.

Pain usually isn’t the reason, because nowadays, pain can be managed.  I know it wasn’t with me.  I am thankful that I’m Catholic and could depend on the sacraments for consolation.  Fortunately, I had a Spiritual Director, at the time, and the comforting grace of Anointing of the Sick.  Catholicism is the best religion to be in sick in, and following, to die in.  God is the author of life, don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.  

Portion Control

All food is good.  Don't deny yourself.  Why sacrifice what you love?  Eat it.

No, this isn't Eve talking to Adam.  It's what I learned today at a T.O.P.S. Inspiration Workshop.  T.O.P.S. is a health support group.  Some may call it a weight loss support group, but when I was almost wasting away, I used T.O.P.S. to gain weight, because it's about healthy eating.    Unfortunately, now I can't reverse the trend.  I needed to gain weight then and got in the habit of stuffing myself, so now I'm finding it hard to stop.

Besides, after my experience with Cronkhite Canada Syndrome, I recommend that everyone be ten pounds over weight, because if you ever get sick, you'll need the reserves.

Still, that's ten pounds over weight, not twenty+.

What did I learn today?  "There is no bad food, only bad portion control."

Take your plate.  Divide it in half, now on one of the halves, divide that in half.  Half of your plate should be vegetable.  One quarter of your plate should be meat.  One quarter should be starch.

I think this is doable.  I like vegetables.  I also like meat.  And starch.  And sugar.  And grains.  And fruit.  And  beer.  And dairy.  And new foods.  And old favorites.  And...um...and now I'm hungry.



T.O.P.S.

Stress Coping Skills with Faith

In work today we had a Stress Management Class.  I didn't particularly learn anything, because I've been there before.  Heck!  I could teach the class.  I could teach a course.  I could write a book.  I'm referring to my Cronkhite Canada Syndrome, which is caused by stress.  But near the end, the facilitator asked us how we coped with stress.  Someone said they telephone their daughter, and another said she cooks.

No one said they meditate.  No one said they prayed.

No wonder they're stressed.  You can't do it alone.  You can't get through life by yourself.  Well, yeah, you can, but it won't be easy--not stress free.  We all need help.

Add caption

Stress Coping Skills with Faith

Take care of yourself.  If you're not strong you can't help anyone else, not even yourself.
Pray.  You've got to communicate with God, and that means listen.  Praying is mostly listening--yeah, read that again.  Prayer is mostly listening.  That's meditation.  Complain, bitch, whatever...God's a big boy; He can take it.  But then, listen to what He has to say.
Family comes first--after you and God.  If you screw up here, you have reason to be stressed.  What else matters?  Family life takes a lot of time.  What of it?  It's the most important time you'll ever spend.
Friends and other relationships are next, because people are important.  Be kind.  Treat others like you want them to treat your children.  Everyone is important.
Routine is necessary.  I think everyone needs the rhythm of a routine to feel balanced.  If you miss your morning daily Mass then the whole day seems off.  Keeping to a daily routine keeps peace and security.  When your routine is interrupted, everything seems in chaos.
Learn to say "NO."  You can't do it all.  It's humanly impossible to do a good job in more than one activity.  I know it's flattering to be asked to do something, or lead something, or help, or.....  "NO."   Say it again, "NO."
Take naps.  Yep, I said it, the un-heard of, at least in the USA.  Short power naps for 20 minutes will give you more energy, make you more alert, and look prettier too.  Yeah, I said "prettier," because you won't have that tied, drawn, sallow skin of a stressed-out zombie.

You can't be human and have no stress.  But it's not worth it, to let it control your life.  Stay on top of it with my hard earned "Stress Coping Skills."  Trust me.

Spiritual Purgatory

I was reading the Aggie Catholic and was deeply touched by the following post, simply because I empathized.  I went there myself with Cronkhite Canada Syndrome.  I also agreed with Marcel's answers.  Great post!

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Where Are You God?

**Have you ever felt that God just wasn't interested in your problems?

**Have you ever felt God was distant and unaccessible?

**Have you ever thought maybe God is just a myth, because He just doesn't seem to care?

I have.  Me Too!  Definitely.

I am sure that somewhere in the world right now, there are people that:

• feel alone  Even in a room full of people who care
• are scared
• are unsure of God's existence and love for them  because you feel like He's dropped your hand, or pushed you away--there's just a difference between then and the now--What Happened!
• can't figure out what God's plan is for them and doubt He even has one  Because He doesn't exit?
• hurt  Devastated!

Are you one of them? Was You are not alone. Others have felt the same way. It's a blessing.  Trust me.  I know I have and I know my sister, Simone, did while she suffered through horrible cancer for five years.

I remember growing up thinking that God would answer my prayers if I prayed hard enough, believed enough, or did enough good things. But, when I messed up, had little faith, or didn't pray that God wouldn't help me. This childish attitude about God's love for me carried into my adult life, which meant my faith stayed small and misunderstood who God really is and how He loves me. My perception of God was warped and this warped perception made it easy to keep God out of my life. Simplistic but that's the perception of many.  But, some people never gave up on me. One of these was my sister, Simone.

Simone never stopped trying to help me know God's love. She always wanted me to experience at a deep and personal level. Even when she got cancer five years ago it didn't stop her from loving others. Even when it disabled her, she never stopped loving.

But, she also felt far from God through it all. She felt dryness and pain in her emotions, spirit, relationships, and her body.  Been there; done that.

She threw every question she had at the feet of Christ:

• where are you?
• why won' t you take the pain away?
• do you hear me?
• are you even there?
• can't  you make this all stop?
• don't you care?
• do you really love me?
• etc.

And the answer was a resounding silence.

I tried to look on the humorous side.  I didn't want to be depressed.  I told myself "No answer is better than 'f*** you." because I knew God was there.  He was.  Everyone tells me He was, is, always will be.  I have no choice.  Right Blaise?

My sister, Simone LeJeune, died on November 16.  She is on my prayer list.

She knew what it was like to feel distant from God. She also knew what it was like to have God wrap her up in his arms and console her, love her, and heal her.

Simone loved life before she got sick. If you ever met her, you wouldn't forget her. She had a HUGE personality (she made me seem dull). This personality was either loved or hated by others because she could seem overwhelming and loud. You either couldn't get enough or had too much of her at all times.

Simone was one of my heroes. She was a modern-day Mother Teresa. She worked in youth ministry, counseling, social work, and as a special ed. teacher. She worked with the severely disabled, the imprisoned, the elderly and those society gave up on.

About 12 years ago, Simone started working with a group of special-needs children living in a group home. She fell in love with all of them. Matthew was a 2 year-old in the home. He lived there until the caretaker of the home grew very ill and Matthew was going to be put into foster care. Simone knew he would probably bounce from foster-home to foster-home for years, because black toddlers with special needs rarely get adopted. So, she took him in and adopted him herself.

Simone befriended those most would reject. She met an elderly Jewish woman several years ago who lived in her apartment complex. This woman hadn't left her apartment in years, so Simone and Matthew would go visit her, help her clean her apartment and bring her some human comfort. She left her apartment for the first time in years to come to Simone's funeral. This woman was torn apart, because so very few people care about her and she lost one of the few who did.

Simone did retreats in prison for hardened convicts. She would get so excited to see the changes in men who had never known God's love and forgiveness.

Simone would teach a wheelchair-bound child to feed themselves at age 14, when nobody else could seem to break through.

So, what gave her such a passion? She had the belief that God lived in every single person, loved us individually, died on the Cross for our sins, and had no greater desire than to have us love Him back.

The only one she sometimes doubted He loved was herself. In her moments of honesty, which I was blessed to be a part of, she confessed that she sometimes struggled with doubts of God's personal love for her. But, who wouldn't ask tough questions of God when you can't hold down food for months at a time. When your hair falls out. When you are in constant agonizing pain for years. When you felt that some friends and family abandoned you because you got sick. When you lost your job, possessions, independence, etc.

Simone was in many ways like Job. She had everything stripped away until all she had left was faith in God. This faith, lived in love, is what I believe saved Simone. Which is why I have not had too much difficulty in seeing her die.

You see, Simone's prayers have been answered in full. I have full hope that if she isn't already in Heaven, her purification will be short, and she soon will be.  I'm sure, too.   Simone suffers no more but answers the questions in the following way:

• where are you?
• I have been right here all along.
• why won' t you take the pain away?
• I know it hurts, I too have suffered. But, suffering is my way of salvation for you and for many others. Combine your suffering with mine and great good will come of it.
• do you hear me?
• Of course I do. I hear all of your cries to me.
• are you even there?
• Yes. I am always here for you. When I seem distant I want you to rely on me even more. The feelings of my presence may come and go, but I never will.
• can't  you make this all stop?
• I could, but I allow it in order to make you strong. Just as gold if purified through fire, so you are purified through suffering. My love is a burning fire.
• don't you care?
• Yes, I care so much that I suffered more than anyone else ever has.
• do you love me?
• Yes, more than anything else I have ever created. I love you enough to become one of you. I love you so much that I would suffer and die for you - individually. I love you with a never-ending love and want you to be with me forever.

Simone please pray for us!  Please.  You have taught me a valuable lesson.

To all who read this - please pray for the repose of Simone LeJeune and for her family and friends who miss her.  For sure.

"Then Job answered the LORD and said: I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be hindered. I have dealt with great things that I do not understand; things too wonderful for me, which I cannot know. I had heard of you by word of mouth, but now my eye has seen you." - Job 42: 1-5

"I have come to realize more and more that the greatest disease and the greatest suffering is to be unwanted, unloved, uncared for, to be shunned by everybody, to be just nobody to no one."
-Mother Teresa

I love you Simone!  Me too.

h/t http://marysaggies.blogspot.com/

Stress

Work is offering a Stress Reduction Program.  It's just what I need but I don't have the time to fit it in my schedule.

I know; that's a sign that I need it.  I already have a stress related disease, so I do need stress relief.  But I have my own coping mechanism.  It's called prayer.

Faith's Stress Relief Method:

• Rosary
• Lectio Divina
• Centering Prayer
• Eucharistic Adoration
• Our Lady of Hope Prayer Group

Tonight I went to OLHPG to relieve some stress.  We prayed a Rosary and the Chaplet of Divine Mercy.  Afterwards, in circle, we shared Mary stories, since today is the memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows.
Ester told the story of her grandmother's devotion to Mary.  Marie told the story of leaving a rose at the foot of a statue of the BVM and the priest finding it and thinking it was a miracle--because on that date (Marian Feast) a rose appears every year.  And I told the story that Father John Randall tells.  Father Randall was a passenger in a car full of priests.  They were all traveling somewhere.  They were discussing apparitions.  Some of them believed in them and some were skeptical.  All of a sudden, the car was filled with the scent of roses.
    That was a conversation stopper.

A Glorious Day!

Today's Ascension Thursday! But that's not why I'm drunk with happiness. I'm delirious with joy. Know why?

Guess.

C'mon. Whatever you think, you're wrong.

I'm am ecstatic because I'm cured. Praise be to God. I never have to have another endoscopy, or colonoscopy. Well, maybe I will, but they'll be part of normal routine physicals, not because I have Cronkhite Canada Syndrome. That's a purgatorial illness.

I had an endoscopy today and my gastroenterologist said "Good-bye, and don't let the door knob hit you where the good Lord split you."

It's been a little over three years and I've been finally given a clean bill of health. Phew! Think of it. From wasting away, and planning my funeral, to TODAY!

God is good. All the time!!!! I also thank Fr. M. Jean Joseph Lataste, OP, for his intercession, Fr. Aquinas Keane, ocso, for his spiritual direction, for my friends, and my cloistered brothers, for all their prayers and support. Mostly, I thank my husband Dick who refused to allow me to waste away. He fed, cleaned, bathed, carried and cried with me. I thank God every day for the gift of this man. Deo Gratias.

Stress

Work offers different programs aimed at we employees overall health. The program this week was on Stress. (Yeah let me tell you about it.) We learned that when stress becomes excessive, our bodies and mind are unable to cope and disease can result. (Yeah let me tell you about it.)

We learned that the best way to relieve stress is to breathe. Ya, it's that simple. Really. I was surprised, too. Our presenter instructed us to press a fist into our chest. Then she asked us if we held our breath. Well, yeah. See how stress affects your breathing?

To calm yourself all you have to do is concentrate on your breathing. At first, I didn't get it. There are two types of breathing: chest and diaphragm. Since I practice Pilates, I'm a chest breather. You see, the point of Pilates is to strengthen your abs, so I hold my stomach and that area firm, and breathe with my lungs. But I should really go a step further and breathe a little lower--the diaphragm. That would give me deeper breathing.

Well, let me tell you, I almost hyperventilated trying to concentrate on changing from chest to diaphragm. Talk about stress!

But I got the hang of it. Soon I was filling the diaphragm and squeezing the air out. This conscious effort is called breath awareness.

While I was breathing in and out, a CD of calming music was playing.

I was just about asleep when the instructor turned the lights on.

Bummer.

I was surprised that 20 minutes had passed by. And it was so easy. All I have to do is concentrate on my breathing and I relax.

Let me tell you, I felt great! I was very relaxed.

Who knew?

(Yeah let me tell you about it, refers to my Cronkhite Canada Syndrome [see posting from Jan 2009], which is caused by STRESS.)

Praying in the Bathroom

One of my Jewish friends was appalled to see my prayer book in the bathroom. She explained to me how vulgar, repulsive and loathsome, just the idea of it was. It's offensive to God.

I see her point. Definitely.

However she's never had Cronkhite Canada Syndrome or ulcerative colitis.

Retreat Day Two

I was awake for Vigil but too warm and cozy to get up. Then I slept right up to the time when the bells for Lauds rang. I jumped out of bed, threw on my clothes and looked in the mirror and scared myself.

Awk! No time for hair fixing, so I grabbed a hair elastic and put my hair in a pony tail and put on my baseball cap.

As retreatants, we are allowed to sit in the stalls, like the monks, only way, way, way in the back. It's a long church. The altar is way up there away from us.

As I sat and watched the monks come in through the door, one old monk did a double take when he saw me. He pointed to my hat. At first I thought he was telling me that he liked my Red Sox baseball cap. But he motioned for me to take it off. TAKE IT OFF!

OH NO. :-( It's not that my hair was ugly; it's that I am ugly like that. Remember that I had Cronkhite Canada Syndrome and my hair didn't grow back like it was before. I am bald on the sides of my head. My hair grows only on the top of my head, so I just wear it down, or cover my head with a scarf, or hat. Now I had to take my hat off. Why?

I don't know why, but I obeyed. A thousand things ran through my mind: am I breaking some rule that no hats are allowed, men or women's, is it the type of hat I'm wearing that's objectionable, am I showing lack of respect..........why?

So I sat there, bald, wispy head sticking out like an old plucked chicken. I was embarrassed.

It gets worse.

At Communion, the priest didn't come down to us; we had to walk all the way up to him. Remember the monks, about 50 of them, are sitting in stalls gawking at we visitors. I felt like I was walking through a gauntlet of inspecting eyes. To add another humiliation to the pile, I happened to be last. As I walked behind everyone else, I could feel my red face travel all the way to my neck. The back of my neck burned.

It was not a good Communion. I could not take my mind off myself. I did offer my misery up.

This ordeal bothered me all day. Immediately after lunch, I had acid reflex. I was in pain. I tried to pray it away, ignore it, take anti acid medicine, but nothing worked. I couldn't attend None, or Vespers. I didn't eat Supper, and I was asleep by Compline.

One picture is the Abbey Church and the other is the long cloister walk to our stalls in the back. The church is large, cold, dark, and dreary. As far as I was concerned, the church atmosphere, added to my mood. Despairing is all I could think of.

Splenda

I will never again use Splenda. That was always my sweetner of choice. From now on I'll use regular sugar cane sugar. Better to get fat, than have diarrhea, again. That almost killed me when I had Cronkhite Canada Syndrome.
Today I read an article on Globenewswire: http://www.globenewswire.com/newsroom/news.html?d=150785
regarding the artificial sweetner Splenda. James Turner, the Chairman of Citizens for Health said the FDA should review its approval of Splenda. Among the results in the study by Drs. Mohamed B. Abou-Donia, Eman M. El-Masry, Ali A. Abdel-Rahman, Roger E. McLendon and Susan S. Schiffman is evidence that, in the animals studied, Splenda reduces the amount of good bacteria in the intestines by 50%, increases the pH level in the intestines, contributes to increases in body weight and affects the P-glycoprotein (P-gp) in the body in such a way that crucial health-related drugs could be rejected. Turner noted that the P-gp effect "could result in crucial medications used in chemotherapy for cancer patients, AIDS treatment and drugs for heart conditions being shunted back into the intestines rather than being absorbed by the body as intended."

I'm obsessing about "reduces the amount of good bacteria in the intestines by 50%..." I'm telling Dr. Anastopolous about this study. Maybe the concentrated us of Splenda triggered my Conkhite Canada Syndrome.

Image of the Month

My colon is going to be famous. The world will know me intimately--my colon, that is. Dr. Anastopoulos, my gastroenterologist and his team are submitting the pictures of my colonoscopy and upper endoscopy to New England Journal of Medicine. They think the pictures would make good "Image of the Month" illustrations of Cronkhite Canada Syndrome. It'll be interesting to see if NEJM accepts them.

I saw Dr. Harry, today. He's very pleased at how well I am. Because CCS is so rare, he really doesn't know what to expect. He doesn't know if I'll have a relapse. He doesn't know why I got this purgatorial illness in the first place. And he doesn't know why it went away--if it did.

Personally, I think it's gone for good. Good riddance!

T.O.P.S.

Take Off Pounds Sensibly is a club I belong to. I won't call it a diet club because I used it to gain weight, when I had Cronkhite Canada Syndrome. It's a health support group. I call it that because the people in the group sometimes belong to Weight Watches, Jenny Craig, Overeaters Anonymous and others of that ilk. We come together and talk about what works and we show concern for each other. I joined a few years ago to loose 20 pounds. I was losing, but then I got sick and lost 58 pounds in a month. That was way, way, way too much. I had to gain back 30 pounds to be healthy. I was doing fine until December. Every meeting I had a Christmas luncheon to attend. There was also Christmas baking. I received a lot of chocolate.

Anyway, the result is, without the support of T.O.P.S., I have gained 10 pounds. I can't go to the meeting, this week, either. I have a doctor's appointment--the gastroenterologist who treated me for Cronkhite Canada. I wonder if he'll say anything about my weight.

Cronkhite Canada Syndrome

Today is Thanksgiving and like last year, I am just so very, very grateful to be alive. Not so long ago, I almost wasted away in my own sh**. It was disgusting. I had diarrhea for months. I lost 58 pounds in just one month. I lost all my hair--everywhere--not only on my head, but no eyelashes, or anything. I lost all nails--fingers and toes. I was so weak. My voice sounded like I was 100 years old. I was a mess. Worst of all, I almost lost my faith. A terrible coldness came over me. That's the only way I can describe it. Cold, dark, lonely thoughts oppressed my soul. I couldn't shake it away. The prognosis wasn't good. Since the disease is an late adult onset disease, it is not unusual for old people to die from it. I was afraid that there was no God, not because He didn't cure me, but because He wasn't with me. I doubted that He was there, or ever was. I tried to write my thoughts down, but it didn't really express my feelings. This is the best I could do.

Shackled in chains blurred by ennui
My world is my bed
sometimes the couch.

Hovering or
floundering
between death and
wishing for death.

Sleep wasn't easy,
but dreams abounded.
Praying wasn't easy,
but dreams abounded.

Shouldn't there by
a difference
between Jesus
and Zeus and Mars?

How would you know?
Same result.

Shouldn't there be
feelings of comfort,
assurance from angels,*
warmth from a Presence?

Worm that I am,
crawling in sin,
not worthy to be
heard nor loved.

Surely no one
is righteous to You?**

You are there.
You are there.
If repeating
makes it true,

You are there.
You are there.

There or not--
same result.

How do I know?
How do I know?

Same result.

Beyond human
understanding.

Silence.

Lord, help my unbelief. ***

*Luke 22:43 **Psalm 143:2 ***Mark9:23

First published in The Map of Life, Poetry from the Third Annual OPrize for Poetry, ed. Robert Curtis, Dominicus Books, Inc., 2007.

Waiting

I just blitz cleaned the house. I have three people sleeping over. We are all pilgrims on our way to Magnificat's Pilgrimage of Hope. I thought I did a pretty good job until I just looked at the closet doors. Ugh! They're louvered. I can't remember the last time I dusted each slat. Years and years, ago! Oh well, I'm too tired to do it now. Besides, my digestive system feels funny. I have Cronkhite Canada disease and I don't want a flare up. It's caused by stress and I think obsessing about dusting the slats in louvered doors qualifies as stress.
Tomorrow and Sunday we go to Magnificat's Pilgrimage. I hope I make it. Lord, calm and heal my digestive system. I would like to go closer to You through this pilgrimage. As is Your will, My Love.
There's a Plenary Indulgence attached to going to this Pilgrimage. I should prepare for Confession.
I probably won't have time to post my impressioins, until it's over. But I will--God willing.