even though you might think I'm a fruit loop. It's a believe or not believe, as you please. But in case someone could use the message, I will share it.
As you know, I have been very upset about the people being poisoned with depleted uranium, so I have been fervently praying for their safety and for an end to this war and the gift of Our Lady's era of peace. What you don't know is that I have been quite sick with some respiratory flu for the past two or three days. So I went to bed early, barely able to breath and practically crying for peace and help for these poor people. One thing about feeling rotten. It always makes me feel other people's pain more.
So, anyway, I suddenly wake up praising God for the "glorious day and hour" that He will rescue us. I don't remember any dream or anything. I was just filled to overflowing with praise and gratitude that He is going to do this inspite of the fact that "none of us deserve it". I'm doing very badly at relating this, but words couldn't express it even if I did better. Bottom line is that He IS going to rescue us, even though NONE of us are fit to go to Heaven. It's purely on account of His love for us, just as it always has been. And so, just as none of us is deserving, none of us are exempt, either. Which I took to mean that we are to pray for everyone and not give up on them. Even the Vatican, even the illuminati. We are ALL in the same boat, you see.
Which doesn't mean I'm going to quit yelling about this wrong and the other sin. But I am going to quit wondering if there is any use in praying for so and so.
Now there is another story I should probably tell you out of justice. Sr. Madeleine urged me to have it published years ago, but I was always reluctant. So I make my mea culpa now and tell you.
Some of you have heard me mourning my beloved woods, which we sold two years ago. It was 8.5 acres of woods in the Flint Hills which we called Sanctuary. We bought it in March of '97 and pitched tents on it while we tore down a couple of small houses, transported the lumber and built one small two bedroom house out of it. We had electricity and propane for cooking, but we heated with wood and carried in our water.
Now I'm forgetting what years this happened, but that's not important. In July my husband, Paul, lost his job, and jobs were scarce as hen's teeth in that neighborhood. In September our daughter's husband, Mark, left her for plumbing (they lived in a trailer house on the other end of Sanctuary). My daughter, Dominica, and her son, Jacob, moved in with us, so we quickly built another room on. In November our vehicle insurance and tags expired. December third Dominica had Mattie, even though Paul was driving on expired everything and had to borrow gas money to get her to the hospital. By the end of December we had three flat tires on the van.
So that was the situation when toward the end of January (I think) we discovered that Jacob's neck was grossly swollen. Paul and Dominica hitchhiked him to town and saw the doctor, who said "infection" and put him on antibiotics. That was on Friday, and before they left town Dominica hit Mark up for the money for the medicine. Lo and behold, he had gotten the tax return and gave her half of it. AND the bank let her cash the check even though such large sums are mandated to wait a week.
So with all this new found wealth, Paul walked the nine miles to town the next day and got some supplies and help to get the tires in to town and patched and back on the van. That was Saturday, and Saturday night Jacob got worse, so off they went to the hospital in the van with all four inflated tires. Jacob was released from the hospital Sunday evening, but required to return for shots each evening for several days. Monday Paul got insurance on the van.
And that's where things stood Thursday morning, when I woke up knowing that Jacob was not to be left alone that day. I remember no dream or vision or anything like that. I just knew he wasn't to be left alone that day. So when I wanted to speak to Minica I asked Paul to stay by Jacob while he ate his breakfast. I wasn't three minutes in Minica's room when we heard Paul beller, "Get in here!"
As we rushed in Paul rushed out the door. Jacob was hanging out of the side of his highchair turning blue. Thinking he was strangling on his food, we grabbed him out of the highchair, turned him upside down and started thumping on him, all the while yelling, "Mama, help us, Mama Mary, help us." Finally he rolled his eyes and spit the food out of his mouth. Without even putting on shoes or a coat, Minica wrapped a blanket around him and ran out to the van, which Paul had pulled to the front door.
Mattie and I walked the floor praying and crying for nearly an hour before Paul showed up to get us. Jacob had had another seizure on the way into town, and they were on the way to Wichita in an ambulance. To make this long story a bit shorter, when we finally got there, I was holding Jacob while Minica nursed Mattie in the waiting room, and he had his third, and last, seizure. That was one for each of us. After some horrendous tests, they decided it was cat scratch fever and put him on some really strong antibiotic.
That was Thursday, and Jacob was discharged on the following Saturday, the day the space shuttle blew up on re entry. Like I said, I can't remember dates, but you guys can do the math. It's not important. We brought them all home Saturday afternoon. Monday evening Paul ran to town for some things and on the way back one of the tires blew out. The van went through the ditch, through a barbed wire fence and landed on its lid. Paul walked away with a broken tooth, but that was the end of the van. We had it back just long enough to save Jacob's life. God knew what we needed before we needed it; He gave it to us just when it was needed, no more, no less; and he removed it when it was no longer needed. So finally I have done this work of justice and given credit where it is due.
In the end, thirteen months after he left, Mark decided he wanted Dominica more than plumbing. And now that Sanctuary is no more, he wants to go back to that life style again. Isn't that just the way of it. You finally get rid of something just in time to realize it was just what you wanted all along.