It has been a long time since I posted anything personal up here. My goodness! I am very lazy, and that's probably the worst thing about me. now that that is out in the open, I shall commence updating my worthy readers on my life.
Nothing of note has happened.
Just kidding =D.
I finally graduated from Franciscan University in the Nursing Class of 2009. When our class was called we rang cowbells, threw confetti and streamers into the air, and squirted out 60cc syringes of saline solution! Oddly enough, I don't feel any differently than when I was an undergrad. Odd, huh? Just like I said. Perhaps it was compounded by the stress of my entire family living in my apartment with me. Nothing like family bonding time. My three younger sisters remained with me in my apartment after the graduation, and everyone else has gone back to Virginia.
Funny the changes graduation brings about. As a college student, one has credibility, status, and worth. I am now unemployed for the most part...or at least i will be as soon as I quite my student work job. I also have gobs and gobs to study, for I cannot become a nurse until I pass the NCLEX.
Thus is the beginning of my mundane little summer...and life post graduate.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Morning Reflection
Beginning this year, I have been trying to pray more, so I have been attempting the liturgy of the hours in the morning and evening. Success has been minimal, but I'm just gonna keep going on this. This morning while praying the office, I was struck by a phrase in the second psalmody, a canticle from Isaiah:
On Zion sinners are in dread,
trembling grips the impious;
"Who of us can live with the consuming fire?
Who of us can live with the everlasting flames?"
He who practices virtue and speaks honestly,
who spurns what is gained by oppression,
brushing his hands
free of contact with a bribe,
stopping his ears lest he hear of bloodshed,
closing his eyes lest he look on evil.
What captured my attention was the description of the one who practices virtue. Though the virtuous person is above evil, he does not allow himself to be exposed to it. This flies in the face of the opinion many Christians and Catholics alike hold: "I can watch immoral stuff in movies cause it doesn't affect me. I would never do that. I'm tough, I can take it." The difference between a wise man and a foolish one may be said to be determined by one thing only. That is, that the one knows his weakness and avoids it. The other denies his weakness and thinks he will become strong by exposing himself to as many evils/dangers as possible.
I'm thinking that this would be hard to live. Personally, I love murder mysteries. Closing my eyes against evil is definitely something to work on, because my curiosity may be my downfall in that. Greater vigilance is needed in the Church and in personal life.
On Zion sinners are in dread,
trembling grips the impious;
"Who of us can live with the consuming fire?
Who of us can live with the everlasting flames?"
He who practices virtue and speaks honestly,
who spurns what is gained by oppression,
brushing his hands
free of contact with a bribe,
stopping his ears lest he hear of bloodshed,
closing his eyes lest he look on evil.
What captured my attention was the description of the one who practices virtue. Though the virtuous person is above evil, he does not allow himself to be exposed to it. This flies in the face of the opinion many Christians and Catholics alike hold: "I can watch immoral stuff in movies cause it doesn't affect me. I would never do that. I'm tough, I can take it." The difference between a wise man and a foolish one may be said to be determined by one thing only. That is, that the one knows his weakness and avoids it. The other denies his weakness and thinks he will become strong by exposing himself to as many evils/dangers as possible.
I'm thinking that this would be hard to live. Personally, I love murder mysteries. Closing my eyes against evil is definitely something to work on, because my curiosity may be my downfall in that. Greater vigilance is needed in the Church and in personal life.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Declining Notre Dame: A Letter from Mary Ann Glendon
Hooray for her! I encourage all my fellow Catholics to stand up against lukewarmness and to take appropriate action against such outrages as an upstanding Catholic University inviting a pro-abortion, pro-euthanasia, pro-embryonic stem cell research politician to speak at it's commencement. I am listing this letter because I think it is well written and gets the point across respectfully but without any wishy-washy dillydallying.
April 27, 2009
The Rev. John I. Jenkins, C.S.C.
President
University of Notre Dame
Dear Father Jenkins,
When you informed me in December 2008 that I had been selected to receive Notre Dame’s Laetare Medal, I was profoundly moved. I treasure the memory of receiving an honorary degree from Notre Dame in 1996, and I have always felt honored that the commencement speech I gave that year was included in the anthology of Notre Dame’s most memorable commencement speeches. So I immediately began working on an acceptance speech that I hoped would be worthy of the occasion, of the honor of the medal, and of your students and faculty.
Last month, when you called to tell me that the commencement speech was to be given by President Obama, I mentioned to you that I would have to rewrite my speech. Over the ensuing weeks, the task that once seemed so delightful has been complicated by a number of factors.
First, as a longtime consultant to the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, I could not help but be dismayed by the news that Notre Dame also planned to award the president an honorary degree. This, as you must know, was in disregard of the U.S. bishops’ express request of 2004 that Catholic institutions “should not honor those who act in defiance of our fundamental moral principles” and that such persons “should not be given awards, honors or platforms which would suggest support for their actions.” That request, which in no way seeks to control or interfere with an institution’s freedom to invite and engage in serious debate with whomever it wishes, seems to me so reasonable that I am at a loss to understand why a Catholic university should disrespect it.
Then I learned that “talking points” issued by Notre Dame in response to widespread criticism of its decision included two statements implying that my acceptance speech would somehow balance the event:
• “President Obama won’t be doing all the talking. Mary Ann Glendon, the former U.S. ambassador to the Vatican, will be speaking as the recipient of the Laetare Medal.”
• “We think having the president come to Notre Dame, see our graduates, meet our leaders, and hear a talk from Mary Ann Glendon is a good thing for the president and for the causes we care about.”
A commencement, however, is supposed to be a joyous day for the graduates and their families. It is not the right place, nor is a brief acceptance speech the right vehicle, for engagement with the very serious problems raised by Notre Dame’s decision—in disregard of the settled position of the U.S. bishops—to honor a prominent and uncompromising opponent of the Church’s position on issues involving fundamental principles of justice.
Finally, with recent news reports that other Catholic schools are similarly choosing to disregard the bishops’ guidelines, I am concerned that Notre Dame’s example could have an unfortunate ripple effect.
It is with great sadness, therefore, that I have concluded that I cannot accept the Laetare Medal or participate in the May 17 graduation ceremony.
In order to avoid the inevitable speculation about the reasons for my decision, I will release this letter to the press, but I do not plan to make any further comment on the matter at this time.
Yours Very Truly,
Mary Ann Glendon
Taken from a post by a member of Phatmass discussion board: http://www.phatmass.com/phorum/index.php?showtopic=93928
April 27, 2009
The Rev. John I. Jenkins, C.S.C.
President
University of Notre Dame
Dear Father Jenkins,
When you informed me in December 2008 that I had been selected to receive Notre Dame’s Laetare Medal, I was profoundly moved. I treasure the memory of receiving an honorary degree from Notre Dame in 1996, and I have always felt honored that the commencement speech I gave that year was included in the anthology of Notre Dame’s most memorable commencement speeches. So I immediately began working on an acceptance speech that I hoped would be worthy of the occasion, of the honor of the medal, and of your students and faculty.
Last month, when you called to tell me that the commencement speech was to be given by President Obama, I mentioned to you that I would have to rewrite my speech. Over the ensuing weeks, the task that once seemed so delightful has been complicated by a number of factors.
First, as a longtime consultant to the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, I could not help but be dismayed by the news that Notre Dame also planned to award the president an honorary degree. This, as you must know, was in disregard of the U.S. bishops’ express request of 2004 that Catholic institutions “should not honor those who act in defiance of our fundamental moral principles” and that such persons “should not be given awards, honors or platforms which would suggest support for their actions.” That request, which in no way seeks to control or interfere with an institution’s freedom to invite and engage in serious debate with whomever it wishes, seems to me so reasonable that I am at a loss to understand why a Catholic university should disrespect it.
Then I learned that “talking points” issued by Notre Dame in response to widespread criticism of its decision included two statements implying that my acceptance speech would somehow balance the event:
• “President Obama won’t be doing all the talking. Mary Ann Glendon, the former U.S. ambassador to the Vatican, will be speaking as the recipient of the Laetare Medal.”
• “We think having the president come to Notre Dame, see our graduates, meet our leaders, and hear a talk from Mary Ann Glendon is a good thing for the president and for the causes we care about.”
A commencement, however, is supposed to be a joyous day for the graduates and their families. It is not the right place, nor is a brief acceptance speech the right vehicle, for engagement with the very serious problems raised by Notre Dame’s decision—in disregard of the settled position of the U.S. bishops—to honor a prominent and uncompromising opponent of the Church’s position on issues involving fundamental principles of justice.
Finally, with recent news reports that other Catholic schools are similarly choosing to disregard the bishops’ guidelines, I am concerned that Notre Dame’s example could have an unfortunate ripple effect.
It is with great sadness, therefore, that I have concluded that I cannot accept the Laetare Medal or participate in the May 17 graduation ceremony.
In order to avoid the inevitable speculation about the reasons for my decision, I will release this letter to the press, but I do not plan to make any further comment on the matter at this time.
Yours Very Truly,
Mary Ann Glendon
Taken from a post by a member of Phatmass discussion board: http://www.phatmass.com/phorum/index.php?showtopic=93928
Monday, May 11, 2009
Plunket poems
Joseph Mary Plunkett, one of my favorite poets, was born in Dublin at the end of the 19th century. He was an amazing scholar, and apparently had an attraction for the works of Saint John of the Cross, St. Theresa of Avila, and Francis DeSales, which definitely comes out in his writings. They themselves are not only patterned after the mystics, but seem to be somewhat mystical in themselves. He joined the Easter Rebellion against the tyranny of the English, was apprehended and condemned to death. On the morning of his execution, May 4, 1916, he married his fiance, Grace Gifford. He was executed that day at the age of 28. This is one of my favorite poems he writes, so evident of the wonder and glory of God.
I See His Blood Upon the Rose
I see his blood upon the rose
And in the stars the glory of his eyes,
His body gleams amid eternal snows,
His tears fall from the skies.
I see his face in every flower;
The thunder and the singing of the birds
Are but his voice—and carven by his power
Rocks are his written words.
All pathways by his feet are worn,
His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,
His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,
His cross is every tree.
Another favorite:
The Splendour of God
The drunken stars stagger across the sky,
The moon wavers and sways like a wind-blown bud,
Beneath my feet the earth like drifting scud
Lapses and slides, wallows and shoots on high;
Immovable things start suddenly flying by,
The city shakes and quavers, a city of mud
And ooze—a brawling cataract is my blood
Of molten metal and fire—like God am I.
When God crushes his passion-fruit for our thirst
And the universe totters—I have burst the grape
Of the world, and let its powerful blood escape
Untasted—crying whether my vision durst
See God’s high glory in a girl’s soft shape—
God! Is my worship blessed or accurst?
My Lady has the Grace of Death
My lady has the grace of Death
Whose charity is quick to save,
Her heart is broad as heaven’s breath,
Deep as the grave.
She found me fainting by the way
And fed me from her babeless breast
Then played with me as children play,
Rocked me to rest.
When soon I rose and cried to heaven
Moaning for sins I could not weep,
She told me of her sorrows seven
Kissed me to sleep
And when the morn rose bright and ruddy
And sweet birds sang on the branch above
She took my sword from her side all bloody
And died for love
I See His Blood Upon the Rose
I see his blood upon the rose
And in the stars the glory of his eyes,
His body gleams amid eternal snows,
His tears fall from the skies.
I see his face in every flower;
The thunder and the singing of the birds
Are but his voice—and carven by his power
Rocks are his written words.
All pathways by his feet are worn,
His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,
His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,
His cross is every tree.
Another favorite:
The Splendour of God
The drunken stars stagger across the sky,
The moon wavers and sways like a wind-blown bud,
Beneath my feet the earth like drifting scud
Lapses and slides, wallows and shoots on high;
Immovable things start suddenly flying by,
The city shakes and quavers, a city of mud
And ooze—a brawling cataract is my blood
Of molten metal and fire—like God am I.
When God crushes his passion-fruit for our thirst
And the universe totters—I have burst the grape
Of the world, and let its powerful blood escape
Untasted—crying whether my vision durst
See God’s high glory in a girl’s soft shape—
God! Is my worship blessed or accurst?
My Lady has the Grace of Death
My lady has the grace of Death
Whose charity is quick to save,
Her heart is broad as heaven’s breath,
Deep as the grave.
She found me fainting by the way
And fed me from her babeless breast
Then played with me as children play,
Rocked me to rest.
When soon I rose and cried to heaven
Moaning for sins I could not weep,
She told me of her sorrows seven
Kissed me to sleep
And when the morn rose bright and ruddy
And sweet birds sang on the branch above
She took my sword from her side all bloody
And died for love
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