tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89662611519975747652024-02-19T08:58:37.468-08:00 Called to the DesertA Spiritual JourneyCindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.comBlogger164125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-57447888503277808762019-12-14T07:20:00.000-08:002019-12-14T07:20:01.553-08:00The Holidays<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidyDmM_cuYlo31V8jRhm1fnG-FBh8SolU9DxWTVdDoEFpAVj656ZYHVqf0IUh5Q7X9ysi4XlM-mjhmhtkTjZ-jOJTs9rKGtHRAEU1xJAiGzs9zAc0nIL1CbJxaiy_4tmww30eLJuJc6Pch/s1600/IMG_7473.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><i><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidyDmM_cuYlo31V8jRhm1fnG-FBh8SolU9DxWTVdDoEFpAVj656ZYHVqf0IUh5Q7X9ysi4XlM-mjhmhtkTjZ-jOJTs9rKGtHRAEU1xJAiGzs9zAc0nIL1CbJxaiy_4tmww30eLJuJc6Pch/s320/IMG_7473.HEIC" width="240" /></i></b></a></div>
<b><i>What cannot be said will be wept.</i></b><br />
<b><i>Sappho</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
Weeping is the hardest part for me. Once I start I am terrified that I will not be able to stop. The waves of grief crash over me with such ferocity that I am crushed under them gasping for breath.<br />
<br />
Everywhere I look people are in the Holiday Season and I, not unlike many others, am in my Season of Grief.<br />
<br />
New layers were added to my grief this year. The loss of my daughter, Kelly, this summer and the passing of what would have been her 43rd birthday this past October. The rapid approach of December 18th. The 6th year anniversary of Michael’s death. Christmas Day the first anniversary of my father’s death. I feel like the bush in the photo, dormant covered in the weight of the cold unforgiving snow. I can barely remember my spring when the first green shoots appear and later in my full glory under the sun I flowered and was full of hope.<br />
<br />
My heart is heavy with it’s burdens and laughter seems like a blasphemy. I have no will to celebrate and fill my days with shopping and merrymaking. Instead, I wish to sit and ponder my memories and wrap myself in their warmth until the New Year when perhaps, once again I can flower and bask in the warmth of hope and new beginnings.<br />
<br />
<br />Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-23957888950042992452018-11-21T10:03:00.002-08:002018-11-21T10:03:11.021-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ3c3gNYb51Zhfu3n4NsgbrBTrD4bZRDDsHmoGBvoDn6GHXzvZbAUnOxLnKvmcAimg0OQ0lNjClHsWQFxGjivYni7YLm2twfkKJGzPSavk3QXLvOH3U4nJuEhxf7MBzKpc0VI3bOM4IbiT/s1600/437x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="328" data-original-width="437" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ3c3gNYb51Zhfu3n4NsgbrBTrD4bZRDDsHmoGBvoDn6GHXzvZbAUnOxLnKvmcAimg0OQ0lNjClHsWQFxGjivYni7YLm2twfkKJGzPSavk3QXLvOH3U4nJuEhxf7MBzKpc0VI3bOM4IbiT/s320/437x.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: 700;">If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"> </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: 700;"><em style="box-sizing: border-box;">—Meister Eckhart</em></span><br />
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: 700;"><em style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br /></em></span>
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">Our pre-Thanksgiving is over and others are still preparing for theirs.</span></span><br />
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">Dad is in Home Hospice and we moved the table into the living room so that we were all in the same room for dinner. He doesn't come to the table any more. We reminded each other that it is not what is on the table, but who is around the table.</span></span><br />
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">It is difficult to realize that this is his last Thanksgiving. We will never have him with us in a physical sense, but he will always be with us. He will continue to be with us in the shared memories and stories we tell over the years. A piece of him will live on in each of us in the depths of our hearts.</span></span><br />
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">There is so much to be grateful for this year. The time we sped together, the laughter and the tears. It is all a reminder that we are finite beings and our time on this planet is limited.</span></span><br />
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">The care of our Dad is a joyful duty that will never come close to repaying, all that he has given us and continues to give us.</span></span><br />
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><i>Lord, when I become</i></span></span><br />
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><i>lost in my self</i></span></span><br />
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><i>help me to remember</i></span></span><br />
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><i>that I am simple the vessel</i></span></span><br />
<span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><i style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;">and that </i><span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941);"><i>You</i></span></span><i style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: 18px;"> are the Potter.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941); font-family: PrumoDeck, serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.952941);"><i>~Cindy</i></span></span>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-32919395635076804482018-11-05T08:29:00.000-08:002018-11-05T08:29:38.281-08:00Our Birthdays Are Past<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNkXDmlvyi7yvqezgduJ8_c4qd0edF_5Obx3KXDuWijW3XvOu2Bp6ZFLfOwuVD2liU0UDynvzESceZz6jmWy_BU5Z8YGwbcpZRr8HX7RB5VRNiQaI2gYt92HWky8sjld54XHtz8t4CZPxn/s1600/our+Photos+780.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="855" data-original-width="1282" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNkXDmlvyi7yvqezgduJ8_c4qd0edF_5Obx3KXDuWijW3XvOu2Bp6ZFLfOwuVD2liU0UDynvzESceZz6jmWy_BU5Z8YGwbcpZRr8HX7RB5VRNiQaI2gYt92HWky8sjld54XHtz8t4CZPxn/s320/our+Photos+780.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.<br />
<br />
-Psalm 34:18<br />
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This is such a hard time of year for me. I miss celebrating our birthdays together. I miss Michael everyday but this time of year is especially hard.<br />
<br />
So, here I am almost five years since his death and I am preparing for my father's death. This is hard not only because I am grieving but because I know that my Dad is going to read this blog.<br />
<br />
So much is going on...preparing for my siblings to arrive for early Thanksgiving and Cynthia's visit this weekend. Each day we have tasks that range from the mundane to things that must be reviewed and talked about. We are getting our ducks in order.<br />
<br />
We laugh, we joke, we tear up. This is when God showers you with grace. You must be open to it. A friend of my parents gave me this card on Sunday.<br />
<br />
Remember, the LORD will provide someone or something to get you through any difficulty.<br />
<br />
Lord, help me to see your grace.<br />
<br />
Help me to not focus on the loss but,<br />
on the here and now.<br />
<br />
~CindyCindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-27432458135957665532018-10-29T09:17:00.000-07:002018-10-29T09:17:58.545-07:00Atrocities At Our Front Door<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3XoUJoJ1vDvhLC3Q3RIxHbSoKkSsPmx9veRg62z4wFYkc0rC4bNr2o43bXxMlTyYL_T2jLnz4qlbeH_q0JJbZ9mLKbn_PpcO1Cbl9l-rQ9n_BpQSMLNPGFjF1Mvnw48L6f4iDzdlvXEw/s1600/IMG_6229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="615" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3XoUJoJ1vDvhLC3Q3RIxHbSoKkSsPmx9veRg62z4wFYkc0rC4bNr2o43bXxMlTyYL_T2jLnz4qlbeH_q0JJbZ9mLKbn_PpcO1Cbl9l-rQ9n_BpQSMLNPGFjF1Mvnw48L6f4iDzdlvXEw/s320/IMG_6229.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
Glorified and sanctified be God’s great name throughout the world<br />which He has created according to His will.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
May He establish His kingdom in your lifetime and during your days,<br />and within the life of the entire House of Israel, speedily and soon;<br />and say, Amen.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
May His great name be blessed forever and to all eternity.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
Blessed and praised, glorified and exalted, extolled and honored,<br />adored and lauded be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He,<br />beyond all the blessings and hymns, praises and consolations that<br />are ever spoken in the world; and say, Amen.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
May there be abundant peace from heaven, and life, for us<br />and for all Israel; and say, Amen.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
He who creates peace in His celestial heights,<br />may He create peace for us and for all Israel;<br />and say, Amen.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Kaddish- English Translation</span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
Let us not forget that those who were slaughtered in their Synagogue are our brothers and sisters.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
Let us not forget that Jesus was a Jew. </div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
Let us not forget that he was an obedient Jew.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
Let us not forget that he read from the Torah and worshipped in the Synagogue.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
We must fight this evil in our country and in our own hearts.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif; margin-bottom: 1em;">
<i>O Father God and Lord of all,</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em;">
<i style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54); color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif;">Look down on your children as they weep and </i><span style="color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54);"><i>mourn.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em;">
<span style="color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54);"><i>Comfort the widow and the orphan.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em;">
<span style="color: #1d2936; font-family: chaparral-pro, serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(29, 41, 54);"><i>~Cindy</i></span></span></div>
Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-47094290255760107032018-10-20T10:45:00.001-07:002018-10-20T15:06:07.718-07:00Looking Into My Parents Marriage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwE0fO5oyDlQG-2_SopSB8n838HkiFvMNfml8qEoxduswX4obJXH-Zb-6d8hFZDBPw9ZFg8IcF-vhdqWaflivclyS8ySbO0j6OHqHETV5xcRZZRe6MC9eRG0702x-0z7rErBesYAoQWLpk/s1600/IMG_4895.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="856" data-original-width="1180" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwE0fO5oyDlQG-2_SopSB8n838HkiFvMNfml8qEoxduswX4obJXH-Zb-6d8hFZDBPw9ZFg8IcF-vhdqWaflivclyS8ySbO0j6OHqHETV5xcRZZRe6MC9eRG0702x-0z7rErBesYAoQWLpk/s320/IMG_4895.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><i>Let there be spaces in your togetherness, and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love: Let it be rather a moving sea between the shores of your souls.</i></b><br />
-Kahil Gilbran, "The Prophet"<br />
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As a child I viewed my parents simply as my parents. I had no understanding of their triumphs or tragedies. Their struggles, if any were concealed in the fact that they were my parents. They were in many ways a mystery to me.<br />
<br />
Now they have celebrated 65 years together! Now I am assisting them as they face the fact that my father is dying and in home hospice. I do not claim to understand their marriage, for it is still a mystery to me. But I have had moments where clarity of their love, respect for each other, and their Faith in the plan of The Man Upstairs washes over me.<br />
<br />
I see the dance that they have perfected over the years. Sometimes one is the leader and other times not, they twirl and spin through the life they have created with the occasional mis-step, but always the hands reach out across the space and they continue their dance.<br />
<br />
The music that they dance to is private. Occasionally, I can faintly hear it in my heart; where the best music is played. The look that passes between them, the kiss for no reason other than they want to kiss each other, and the laughter. There is so much laughter and so many memories that they are sharing.<br />
<br />
I can see them now as people, people that I have been privileged to call my parents. They are the best example of what marital love is that I know. They have lived their wedding vows completely.<br />
<br />
Lord, Thank you for the example<br />
of married love that you provided to me.<br />
<br />
Continue to strengthen their love and give them<br />
Your Peace.<br />
<br />
-CindyCindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-1067199807688495172017-12-17T10:19:00.001-08:002017-12-17T10:20:36.111-08:00Be the Shamash Candle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPnbM6LJbqMh8koxFjMNaHqTjysTtcJpjdzYHYyQxR-XwVYO2CegM4PpEUWElTlgT-VrjmlwAM1VbbtX67KEvHKx5JKOfqIbgbukrYSqMc_y3Sf6gmwf1mWabzYuOCuSvGc-j870lZ5lrK/s1600/IMG_5278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPnbM6LJbqMh8koxFjMNaHqTjysTtcJpjdzYHYyQxR-XwVYO2CegM4PpEUWElTlgT-VrjmlwAM1VbbtX67KEvHKx5JKOfqIbgbukrYSqMc_y3Sf6gmwf1mWabzYuOCuSvGc-j870lZ5lrK/s320/IMG_5278.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><i>The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners, to announce a year of a of favor from the Lord and a day of vindication by our God. - Isaiah 61:1-2a</i></b><br />
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<br />
Gaudete Sunday finds me on the day before the fourth anniversary of Michael's death.<br />
<br />
I am reminded as we put away our purple and wear our rose colored vestments that we should REJOICE!<br />
<br />
Rejoicing has absolutely nothing to do with being happy. It has everything to do with remembering from where our strength comes and how we face our trials and tribulations. If, when we are at our lowest and find ourselves sitting in darkness we need only to look at the light...Hanukkah lights, Christmas lights, Advent wreath lights, and most importantly the Light of Christ.<br />
<br />
Christ fills the darkness so completely that it can knock us to our knees. It can be the flicker in the distance that helps us continue to put one foot in front of the other. It is the light that dispels the shadows and signifies hope.<br />
<br />
Rabbi David Wolf reminds us that the Shamash is the candle that lights the others. We should each be the Shamash Candle, not only during this season, but every day of our lives.<br />
<br />
<b>Lord,</b><br />
<b>I ask that you help me be the Shamash Candle.</b><br />
<b>Help me to dispel the darkness.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Help me to REJOICE!</b><br />
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~CindyCindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-13443584378768795482017-02-28T20:46:00.000-08:002017-02-28T20:46:13.266-08:00"You Look Like You Could Use A Boat Ape"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>Be not anxious about what you have, but about what you are.</i></b><br />
<b><i>- St. Gregory the Great</i></b><br />
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There was a time going into the Dry Tortugas during a storm that we almost put the boat on a reef. Boats from all over were seeking shelter in the small harbor. By the time that we arrived there was limited space.<br />
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Michael was driving the boat and I was at the anchor. We tried at least five times in the driving rain, wind and swells to anchor the boat. The anchor would not hold. The winch that lifted the anchor and the anchor chain was broken. I had to drop and raise the anchor by hand. Each time they got heavier, yet I had to drop it and lift it back up. We were exhausted from our efforts. To make me even more disheartened was that we were with a buddy boat that got in earlier and were anchored. They offered no help. <br />
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Just as we were about to give up a large Samoan came aboard and said, "You look like you could use a boat ape." With those words he took over the anchoring and his friend guided us to a patch of sand that would hold us. Incredibly after anchoring us they returned with two thermoses. One held the best coffee I had ever tasted and the other was full of warm soup. There was warm bread and cookies in another bag. They then took our daughter over to one of their boats were they had all their kids watching a Disney movie.<br />
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Those strangers sheltered us. They fed us. If you haven't been to the Dry Tortugas then you may not be aware that there are NO supplies there, not even water! They shared what they had with us. They shared with people that they had never met before. They were our good Samaritans.<br />
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As Lent begins tomorrow I was reminded of these two families and how they acted towards this boat of strangers. They were better to us than our "friends". They were willing to sacrifice from their own supplies. They offered food, comfort and companionship in a harsh environment. <br />
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As I sit in the desert far from the ocean I am reminded of what it means to give, to shelter, and to comfort.<br />
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<b>O Lord,</b><br />
<b>I stand before you lost in the mire.</b><br />
<b>My heart is heavy and I am lost.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Help me to turn my focus from myself</b><br />
<b>but to others.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Help me to give,</b><br />
<b>to shelter,</b><br />
<b>and to comfort.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>~Cindy</b>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-51351582257377162272017-01-29T10:09:00.002-08:002017-01-29T10:11:34.477-08:00If you want Peace...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>"If you want Peace...work for Social Justice."</i></b><br />
<b><i> St. Paul</i></b><br />
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<b>Prayer for Peace</b></div>
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<b>Lord make me an instrument of Your Peace</b></div>
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<b>Where there is hatred, let me sow love;</b></div>
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<b>Where there is injury, pardon;</b></div>
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<b>Where there is doubt, faith;</b></div>
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<b>Where there is despair, hope;</b></div>
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<b>Where there is darkness, light;</b></div>
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<b>Where there is sadness, joy.</b></div>
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<b>O Divine Master, grant that I may seek</b></div>
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<b>not so much to be consoled as to console; to be</b></div>
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<b>understood as to understand; to be loved as to</b></div>
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<b>love; for it is in giving that we receive; it is</b></div>
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<b>in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is</b></div>
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<b>in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.</b></div>
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<b>Amen.</b></div>
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<b>Attributed to St. Francis of Assisi </b></div>
Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-1107529273599709272017-01-13T10:09:00.004-08:002017-01-13T10:09:47.724-08:00Silence<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>We need silence to be able to touch souls.</i></b><br />
<b><i>-Mother Teresa</i></b><br />
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When I went to Ireland over Christmas I was fortunate to visit Knock where Our Lady appeared in 1879. In the apparition were also St. Joseph and St. John the Evangelist. Not a word was spoken by Our Lady.<br />
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What was the meaning of her silence? I do not know. I do know that when I am silent and can quiet my mind, it is then that God speaks the loudest to me.<br />
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Because it was St. Stephen's Day on my visit only one shop was open at the site. I think there were only 20 people wandering around. I was able to go to Mass at the site of the apparition and spend my own silent time with Our Lady and Our Lord. How wonderful it was to not be jostled by thousands of pilgrims or be rushed because of them. I felt that I had all the time in the world to visit the three Churches and the Blessed Sacrament Chapel.<br />
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There was such a peaceful feeling there. All my worries and concerns were lifted. In the s<i>ilence </i>I heard God's whisper.<br />
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<b>Dear Lord,</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Help me to remember to be quiet and listen.</b><br />
<b>To listen not only with my heart, but with my soul.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Let me hear Your whisper in the depths of</b><br />
<b>my being.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Give me courage to act as You would have me do.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>~Cindy</b>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-88384805555997160372016-12-18T05:59:00.000-08:002016-12-18T06:00:51.628-08:00We Remember Them...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. And may the souls of all the Faithful Departed through the mercy of God rest in peace.</b></div>
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From a Jewish Prayerbook by Sylvan Kamens and Jack Riemer.</div>
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In the rising of the sun and in its going down, we remember them.<br />
In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter, we remember them.<br />
In the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring, we remember them.<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br />In the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer, we remember them.<br />In the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of fall, we remember them.<br />In the beginning of the year and when it ends, we remember them.<br />When we are weary and in need of strength, we remember them.<br />When we are lost and sick at heart, we remember them.<br />When we have achievements that are based on theirs, we remember them.<br />When we have joys we yearn to share, we remember them.<br />So long as we live, they too shall live, for they are a part of us as we remember them.</span></div>
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Love you Michael....Your Cinders</div>
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Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-80506068757367445222016-12-05T09:39:00.000-08:002016-12-05T09:39:06.611-08:00The Second Sunday in Advent<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. -Anne Lamott</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
Facebook has memories of posts from a year ago, two years ago and even longer. The memory that came up for me was from three years ago. It was a link to Caring Bridge. It was the update about Michael.<br />
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My Advent has become a time of waiting in a new way. In the update it spoke of how chemo was ending and he was coming home to die. It spoke of how happy we were that the cancer had not metastasized to his brain. It spoke of hospice. We were waiting!<br />
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God in His Mercy allows us to wait. I believe that in the waiting we can become calm and surrender ourselves and our circumstances to Him.<br />
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Grace enters whenever we open our hearts, minds and souls to accept it. It is always there waiting to enter our lives.<br />
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Last night I watched part of Risen, which is about the Centurion that helped crucify Our Lord. He is tasked with finding the missing body of Jesus. He ends up with the Apostles. They have been told to go to the Sea of Galilee were Jesus will meet them. While out on the boat with them fishing, a man appears walking on the beach. Peter looks at the man quite intently and turns to the Centurion and says, "Sometimes, He is hard to recognize."<br />
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Grace helps us to not only recognize Jesus, but to act as He would have us act. Let us hold our memories dear but also look forward to the future. Let us keep ourselves every ready to accept God's Grace.<br />
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<i>Lord,</i><br />
<i>you know how painful this waiting is for me.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>You alone know the depths of my heart.</i><br />
<i>Help me to hold dear my memories, yet still</i><br />
<i>look forward to the future.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Help me to accept Your Grace.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>~Cindy</i>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-91663474582220525292016-10-31T10:18:00.000-07:002016-10-31T10:18:20.827-07:00Passion and Purgatory<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>In the middle of my physical sufferings, the inner music of my soul will not stop praising God with acts of virtue offering Him my love.</i></b><br />
<b><i>- St Genoveva Torres Morales</i></b><br />
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Everywhere I look people are getting ready for the Holidays. The mood is turning festive. I must admit that for me this time of year has become my Passion. Please do not think that I can even begin to compare my passion with the Passion of Our Lord. I can not and do not. Yet, I feel very much as if I am suffering my own passion.<br />
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This week is Michael and my birthday week. All the time that we were married we celebrated the day between our two birthdays. In celebration of Michael's last birthday our dear friends Debi and Roy drove from Texas to celebrate with us. We all knew this would be our last celebration. We had so much to talk about and so much to celebrate.<br />
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This week we will also celebrate All Soul's Day. It reminds me that we must pray continually for the Holy Souls in Purgatory. Michael, who promised me and I him that we would pray each other out of Purgatory would actually be celebrating his birthday. Our Lord certainly writes straight with crooked lines!<br />
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This is the beginning of many "lasts". Each one is written on my heart.<br />
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<b><i>Lord, let the inner music of my soul</i></b><br />
<b><i>be made sweeter by my tears.</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>May my prayers and remembrances open</i></b><br />
<b><i>my heart to your grace.</i></b><br />
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<b><i>May my lamentations become hymns of JOY!</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>~Cindy</i></b>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-58625322806763578072016-10-24T10:28:00.000-07:002016-10-24T10:28:44.333-07:00Beloved...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>Beloved: I am already being poured out like a libation, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith.</i></b><br />
<b><i>The second Letter of Saint Paul to Timothy</i></b><br />
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This is the picture that showed up on my Facebook page as my memory yesterday. The quote above is from the second reading at Mass yesterday.<br />
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When I first saw this photo yesterday morning it was a little bit of a shock. I remember that day as if it were yesterday. Michael was in the ER receiving blood transfusions. He was upbeat and full of himself. My favorite sister was there to keep us company and to watch over Michael.<br />
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During this time Michael was being poured out like a libation. His departure was at hand. He had competed well and was so close to the finish of his race. Most importantly he had kept the faith!<br />
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Never once did he complain or falter. He was at peace. I miss him terribly each and everyday. <br />
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I ask as we are approaching the Anniversary of his race completion that you continue to pray for the repose of his soul. Pray that if he is still being purified like fine gold in the fires of purgatory that he be released soon so that he may praise God in Heaven.<br />
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<i>We have loved him dearly during life,</i><br />
<i>Let us not abandon him</i><br />
<i>until we have conducted him by</i><br />
<i>our prayers into the house of the Lord.</i><br />
<i>St. Ambrose</i>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-41065738446542268532016-10-10T09:57:00.000-07:002016-10-10T09:57:31.324-07:00Martha, Martha, Martha...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Every moment comes to us pregnant with a command from God, only to pass on and plunge into eternity, there to remain forever what we have made it.</b><div>
<b> -St. Francis de Sales</b></div>
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I have always been much more comfortable being a Martha and not a Mary. I jump up and do things. Even though I say I really do not want to be in charge. That is usually where I end up. Doing!!</div>
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It is a great Cross for me to sit and be quiet. And so with that in mind and for the good of my family needs now, I decided to resign as the Coordinator of Lectors and Commentators at Church. It was a difficult decision for me and one that I did not make lightly.</div>
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I feel that it is right for me to sit at the feet of Our Lord and listen. It is and was so easy for me to get caught up in the doing that I found I was becoming deaf.</div>
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I will enter my own little cloistered heart and contemplate and pray. I will spend more time listening and less time talking.</div>
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<b><i>Speak Lord,</i></b></div>
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<b><i>I am listening...</i></b></div>
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<b><i><br /></i></b></div>
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<b><i>Help me to open my ears</i></b></div>
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<b><i>and heart and hear you anew.</i></b></div>
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<b><i><br /></i></b></div>
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<b><i>Help me to close the grille and</i></b></div>
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<b><i>hear your voice in the silence.</i></b></div>
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<b><i>~Cindy</i></b></div>
Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-20330069170598281532016-09-19T13:42:00.001-07:002016-09-19T13:42:54.088-07:00Faith and Fear.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>"Faith and Fear both demand that you believe in something that you can not see. You choose." - Bob Proctor</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
When living on the sailboat I was fearful of the weather and the shore. If given a choice I would choose open water over coming into harbor. The harbor was filled with obstacles and shallow water. Oh how I hated shallow water!<br />
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It seems to me that we are heading for shallow water. In our fear we allow knee jerk responses to replace prayerful and thoughtful responses. We condemn Colin Kaepernick because he, in peaceful protest, is taking a knee during the National Anthem.<br />
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Before Colin Kaepernick decided to take a knee I didn't know who he was or what he did or believed in. Now he is front and center of a National debate. It is easy to vilify Colin and claim that he is not patriotic. Who is he, a millionaire football player, to shout discrimination? From what I have read Colin is not talking about himself in this peaceful protest. No, Colin is talking about groups of people that have been and are currently being discriminated against.<br />
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In my humble opinion we are being stirred up by hate and haters. Social media and the politically inclined among others stir the pot to divide us. They want us to dislike and distrust each other. If we live in a them and us world it is easier to to stand on opposite sides and toss garbage at each other. It is easier to be controlled. We find ourselves in <i>group think</i>.<br />
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Several times on Facebook I have seen a post that states we need Jesus now. I believe that what we really need is people willing to live and act like Jesus. We can't just go to Mass on Sunday and think that we have our ticket punched. No we must go out and be Jesus to everyone that we meet. We must be merciful and forgiving. I know those words are easy to write and easy to read. It is much more difficult to live them. I believe that we must try!<br />
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I do not know what Jesus would do. However, based on His past behaviors I do not think that he would be condemning Colin. Jesus wasn't much for condemning. He asked questions and made thought provoking statements.<br />
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<div class="version-NLT result-text-style-normal text-html " style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">
<h1 class="passage-display" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: 500; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 20px;">
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; padding-right: 10px;">John 8:1-11</span><span class="passage-display-version" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline;">New Living Translation (NLT)</span></h1>
<h3 style="box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 1.55em; font-weight: 500; line-height: 1.1; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 20px;">
<span class="text John-8-1" id="en-NLT-26348" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">A Woman Caught in Adultery</span></h3>
<div class="first-line-none chapter-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
<span class="text John-8-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="chapternum" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; bottom: -0.1em; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 24px; font-weight: bold; left: 0px; line-height: 0.8em; position: relative;">8 </span>Jesus returned to the Mount of Olives,</span> <span class="text John-8-2" id="en-NLT-26349" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">2 </span>but early the next morning he was back again at the Temple. A crowd soon gathered, and he sat down and taught them.</span><span class="text John-8-3" id="en-NLT-26350" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">3 </span>As he was speaking, the teachers of religious law and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in the act of adultery. They put her in front of the crowd.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
<span class="text John-8-4" id="en-NLT-26351" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">4 </span>“Teacher,” they said to Jesus, “this woman was caught in the act of adultery.</span><span class="text John-8-5" id="en-NLT-26352" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">5 </span>The law of Moses says to stone her. What do you say?”</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
<span class="text John-8-6" id="en-NLT-26353" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">6 </span>They were trying to trap him into saying something they could use against him, but Jesus stooped down and wrote in the dust with his finger.</span> <span class="text John-8-7" id="en-NLT-26354" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">7 </span>They kept demanding an answer, so he stood up again and said, <span class="woj" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">“All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!”</span></span> <span class="text John-8-8" id="en-NLT-26355" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">8 </span>Then he stooped down again and wrote in the dust.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
<span class="text John-8-9" id="en-NLT-26356" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">9 </span>When the accusers heard this, they slipped away one by one, beginning with the oldest, until only Jesus was left in the middle of the crowd with the woman.</span><span class="text John-8-10" id="en-NLT-26357" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">10 </span>Then Jesus stood up again and said to the woman, <span class="woj" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">“Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?”</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
<span class="text John-8-11" id="en-NLT-26358" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">11 </span>“No, Lord,” she said.</span></div>
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<span class="text John-8-11" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">And Jesus said, <span class="woj" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">“Neither do I. Go and sin no more.”</span></span></div>
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<b><i>O Lord,</i></b><br />
<b><i>let the condemning stone fall from my hand.</i></b><br />
<b><i>Let me be a mirror of Your mercy and forgiveness.</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>Help me to choose Faith over Fear</i></b><br />
<b><i>Help me to show Mercy to others as You have shown me Mercy.</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>Curb my tongue...</i></b><br />
<b><i>~Cindy</i></b><br />
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<br />Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-71829191586803129892016-08-28T10:58:00.000-07:002016-08-28T10:58:36.697-07:00Finding JOY!<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Lucida Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Lucida Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3-8sh0F4bYXD_atFCPGh7OaHYNgNTWnvPi6KfZNL0U9ENZTohl1IM77DZrOt4UIWb5arSMJzDcwvo5O-UBDaRF318anI_uwtgYXEHCswmdiPGIkKvzyP9_tHxQOucRlBOpJ0WMvpfVb9x/s1600/screen-shot-2014-11-28-at-12-08-08-am1.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-weight: bold;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3-8sh0F4bYXD_atFCPGh7OaHYNgNTWnvPi6KfZNL0U9ENZTohl1IM77DZrOt4UIWb5arSMJzDcwvo5O-UBDaRF318anI_uwtgYXEHCswmdiPGIkKvzyP9_tHxQOucRlBOpJ0WMvpfVb9x/s320/screen-shot-2014-11-28-at-12-08-08-am1.png" width="320" /></a><b>We are at Jesus’ disposal. If he wants you to be sick in bed, if he wants you to proclaim His work in the street, if he wants you to clean the toilets all day, that’s all right, everything is all right. We must say, “I belong to you. You can do whatever you like.” And this is our strength. This is the joy of the Lord.</b></i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Lucida Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i><b> - Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta</b></i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Lucida Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Lucida Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I have been long in writing a new post. During my travels this summer I have had the occasion to ponder Joy. Joy is more than happiness. We are called to be people of joy. Everything that we do, think, say and are should be Joyful!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Lucida Grande, Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">Mother Teresa of Calcutta soon to be Saint Teresa of Calcutta lived a life of Joy even though she was without spiritual consolation for decades. But in this lack of consolation she found Joy in the Lord. I wish I could tell you that I am a joyful person. I try to be, but then I find that I am not filled with the Joy of the Lord. It is not the Lord that has abandon me. No, it is I that have moved away from Him.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Lucida Grande, Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">This past summer as I traveled across these United States I was struck by the sheer beauty of the landscape. There were times when I </span></span></span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Lucida Grande, Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">spontaneously broke into prayer or was made mute by the majesty before me. I was fortunate to have people I love to share it with and that made it all the more majestic. It is easy to be joyful in those circumstances.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Lucida Grande, Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Lucida Grande, Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">I find it harder at the dimming of the day when I miss Michael the most, or when a child is hurting and I can't seem to help. When I think of my parents aging and needing more help, it is more difficult to be joyful.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Lucida Grande, Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Lucida Grande, Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">Yet, each day the Lord shows me his handy work. The beauty of the sunrise and sunset. In the laughter floating down the street. He touches me in so many ways each day and is willing to carry my burdens with me. He offers joy at every turn.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Lucida Grande, Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><b>Lord,</b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Lucida Grande, Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><b>I stand before you in my humanity.</b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Lucida Grande, Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><b>Help me to relish each moment you</b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Lucida Grande, Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><b>give me with JOY.</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Lucida Grande, Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><b>~Cindy</b></span></span>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-90606482560695760692016-07-03T10:37:00.000-07:002016-07-03T10:37:25.389-07:00Be Brave...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>Men go abroad to wonder at the height of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering. -St. Augustine</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
To a woman my fellow widows at church think that I am brave. Brave to travel alone, brave to drive long distances in a motor home, brave to leave to comfort of my home. I am NOT brave! I just refuse to let my fear stop me from living.<br />
<br />
Driving the Oregon Coast Line on the 101 was an exhilarating and terrifying drive. The vistas were breath taking, so were the curves and drop offs. I know that Our Blessed Mother had to be there as the Hail Marys were flying off my lips. I asked her to keep track of the decades as I was too busy keeping us in our lane and on the road.<br />
<br />
I called on the Blessed Mother again as the wind was a steady 20 knots with gusts that moved me all over the road in the middle of no where. If I had been on the boat, S/V Dragonheart would have been dancing in the waves and all would have been well. Motor homes tend not to right themselves when knocked down.<br />
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Being brave doesn't mean that you have to go it alone. In fact, Our Lord has given us a cadre of Saints and Angels to call on when we need help. I believe in their powerful intercession. It is the intercession of the saints that make being Catholic so wonderful. We have friends. We have friends in high places! I go to those friends when in need. I can't wait to meet them. Many of us have formed long lasting relationships. Some saints are new relationships. But when in deepest trouble, when paralyzed by fear I know that The Blessed Virgin, my Mother is always there. She helps me to stand up straight and tall when I want to curl up in a little ball of fear. She comforts me in my sorrow.<br />
<br />
So be brave...you are not alone.<br />
<br />
<b><i>Lord,</i></b><br />
<b><i>You know my deepest secret fears,</i></b><br />
<b><i>Help me to face them,</i></b><br />
<b><i>confident in Your Love.</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>Remind me of my friends,</i></b><br />
<b><i>the angles and saints; who</i></b><br />
<b><i>truly are my helpers.</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>Thank you for the gift of</i></b><br />
<b><i>Our Mother.</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>~Cindy</i></b>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-74720490681386382932016-06-01T13:18:00.000-07:002016-06-01T13:19:17.481-07:00We Have Turned Our Backs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Oh my God! Teach me to be generous; </i><i>to give and not to count the cost; to fight and not to heed the wounds; to toil and not to seek for rest; to labor and not to seek for any reward save that of doing your blessed will.</i><br />
<i>-St. Ignatius of Loyola</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
The news and the condition of the world have me truly worried. We collectively appear to be lost. We have lost our moral compass and keep our heads firmly planted in the sand.<br />
<br />
The story about the well with poisoned water that turned everyone mad except the King and his family keeps going through my head. The people because they have drank from the well all go mad. The King and his family do not as they have a private well. However, the people want to get rid of the King because they no longer trust him. In the end the King and his family drink from the poisoned well and the people love him again. But now the King is as mad as his people.<br />
<br />
Social media allows us to judge others... and judge we do. From the parents whose child fell into the gorilla enclosure which resulted in a beast, magnificent tho he was, to be killed for the child's safety. I wish that I could tell you that I never took my eyes off any of my children or that I never feared that one drowned because I lost track of them at the lake. They were fine. Just taking a nap. I didn't know that. I am sure if this was posted on Facebook there would be outrage and a police investigation as to my criminal responsibility for losing track of my child. It happens in an instant.<br />
<br />
Politically we are slinging mud at each other and the vitriol is some of the most vile I have seen. We as a country complain, but we don't seem to want to do anything to change the situation. We have the power, but that would mean taking responsibility and we are not very good at that most days.<br />
<br />
We listen and take advice from people who have no qualifications other than they have a podcast and they seem to speak to the hole in us that desperately wants to be filled.<br />
<br />
If only we could turn around we would see that the answer has been there all along. God, yes, God is the answer. If we could focus on Him and His teachings and truly trust Him and be obedient to Him, and do His will and not our own we would not have any problems.<br />
<br />
Let us look to our commonalities and truly love each other. It is difficult to sling mud at someone you love. We must act according to our conscience and be willing to accept the consequences of our choices. We must stand up not for ourselves, but for those that can not stand up for themselves. We must exercise mercy. Yes, mercy even for those that we think are not worthy.<br />
<br />
I shudder when I think how we pray by rote the words of the Our Father...forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those that trespass against us...<br />
<br />
<i><b>Lord, I stand before you</b></i><br />
<i><b>in need of your mercy.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>I stand before you</b></i><br />
<i><b>in need of moral courage.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>Help me see that my judging will</b></i><br />
<i><b>only lead to my own judgement.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>~Cindy</b></i>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-89211661828140918532016-05-16T10:01:00.000-07:002016-05-16T10:01:44.268-07:00Wanting Chinese Food...<b><i>If I had been a man I would have been a great preacher.</i></b><br />
<b><i>-St. Teresa of Avila</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiEusK_6EJuGbnuxoKP7A8WpvMH0zwfviE5POcgcV7XytCC5TfNE4FlEB0NnHeb3C6gZBspgj70hH3WtO6IfmNWkhFl4m-LqKBQCe_fwY54GAnHkSyMWzpzLR15nbewz1yf3Fl0Jx27hn/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiEusK_6EJuGbnuxoKP7A8WpvMH0zwfviE5POcgcV7XytCC5TfNE4FlEB0NnHeb3C6gZBspgj70hH3WtO6IfmNWkhFl4m-LqKBQCe_fwY54GAnHkSyMWzpzLR15nbewz1yf3Fl0Jx27hn/s400/Unknown.jpeg" /></a>My youngest daughter texted me from Madrid, Spain this morning saying, "I'm a bad tourist. I'm at a Chinese Restaurant right now. My reply was, "sometimes you need Chinese Food no matter where you are."<br />
<br />
That simple exchange led me to think about some of the things that I want or think that I want. There is a difference. The biggest thing in my life that I have believed with all my heart is that I was to be a Nun. Well, that didn't happen. I got married. I got married more than once.<br />
<br />
I think in the beginning I got married because I wanted children and I could not reconcile that want with being a Nun. Wanting to be a Nun became an easily pulled out excuse for being unhappy. "Oh, if only I had become a Nun." "I never should have married. I should have become a Nun."<br />
<br />
I am not sure what would have happened if I had been a Nun. A cloistered one at that! I do know what happened because I chose to be in the world and remain among the laity.<br />
<br />
I married and had children. In fact, I have always said that I had yours, mine and someone else's. I have biological children, step-children and adopted children. I wasn't always the best Mom and I drug my children through my own drama. Never a good idea. But I wasn't a bad Mom either. I did the best I could with what I had at the moment.<br />
<br />
In my vocation as a lay married person, the one thing that I am most proud of is how Michael and I handled his impending death. That I did right. I did not do it alone. I had so many people praying for us. I had my parents who put their lives on hold to be with us. I had our children, who came and saw their Dad. I had my favorite sister and her family who helped in so many ways. I had my brothers, who supported me in every way they could. I had exceptional friends who held me up. I had my faith, my priest, and my parish.<br />
<br />
Life can be like Chinese food. One from column A and two from column B. Faith is not like that...it is a stead fastness that carries you through even when you want to quit. Faith enables us to climb mountains and swim oceans. Faith enables us to deal with washing clothes at eleven o'clock at night for the child that just remembered they need that special shirt in the morning. Faith enables us to wash dishes and mop floors with a smile on our face.<br />
<br />
Sometimes we want Chinese food.<br />
<br />
<i>Lord, You know me</i><br />
<i>looking for the easy way.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>There is no easy way.</i><br />
<i>Your way has a yoke,</i><br />
<i>but the yoke is light.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>~Cindy</i><br />
<br />
<br />Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-25535849378231436372016-05-08T10:26:00.000-07:002016-05-08T10:26:17.880-07:00Oh Pride...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>The only way to make rapid progress along the path of divine love is to remain very little and put all our trust in Almighty God.</i></b><br />
<i>-St. Therese of Lisieux</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I will be honest, I am a bull in a china shop! I open my mouth and speak before my brain and heart can stop me from being hurtful, small, and judgmental. I do not take criticism well, in fact, I become defensive and dig my heals in.<br />
<br />
I have been known to cut off my nose despite my face.<br />
<br />
Lately Our Lord has been putting me in positions to learn humility and I have been failing miserable. I have been like the cacti in the picture with lovely flowers to lure you in and yet if you get too close my thorns will get you!<br />
<br />
I have been extremely opinionated of late and with that comes judgement of others. I know best and am happy to tell you how and when you should do something. I have snapped at others and then had to apologize to them as awareness stabs me in the heart.<br />
<br />
Lord lately you have been gently trying to remind me to be an empty vessel and to accept criticism and to stop judging just because they sin differently than me. As usual I needed a 2x4 to get my attention. I needed more than one reminder and you were willing to provide the opportunities. Thank you!<br />
<br />
<i>Lord, here are all my hurt feelings.</i><br />
<i>I give them to You.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Here are the unkind thoughts and criticisms of others</i><br />
<i>I give them to You.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Here I am stumbling on the path,</i><br />
<i>Hitting my head on the low gate to Heaven.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Here I am in all my weakness</i><br />
<i>Seeking my strength in You.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>~Cindy</i>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-40939966723903323222016-04-17T18:48:00.000-07:002016-04-17T18:48:34.920-07:00Today is a gift.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>God wants you to be in the world, but so different from the the world that you will change it. Get cracking.</i></b><br />
<b><i>-Mother Angelica</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
I have the ability to hide in my little world. I go to daily Mass and home and to my sister's home. I also go to the grocery store when needed. But what I really want to do is travel!<br />
<br />
I just got back from a week of camping with a group of strangers. I felt that I had been thrown head long into a world that I did not feel comfortable in. It was a singles group which really is not my scene, but a mutual friend wanted me to meet up with a women. She thought we would hit it off. <br />
<br />
The woman and I were able to find common ground and we had a good time until we had to be with the group. They were negative in so many respects and there was a fair amount of casual sex. It reminded me that my life had changed in small and big ways. I no longer felt part of the world. Especially that world. So I made sure that I started my day with prayer; to ground me, to put on my armor, to help me remember that I am a child of God. The Rosary in my pocket was a good physical reminder of who I want to be and how I want to conduct myself.<br />
<br />
I listened to their stories about how lost and hopeless they felt. Only one other person went to Church on Sunday. We went to Mass together. There were remarks about going to church so we could be saved. I needed to go to get grace and be strengthened.<br />
<br />
As much as I wanted to hide in my RV and not interact I knew that I had to get out there and be Christ-like. I attempted to put a positive spin on the negative. I was to be a witness to them. I did my best.<br />
<br />
The week did help remind me that I love being in my RV, seeing the country and admiring God's handiwork. I was and am feeling guilty about wanting to be out there when I have commitments here at home. As I was discussing this with my favorite sister, she reminded me that I need to do this traveling thing while I still can. She reminded me that each day is a gift and that I can't squander it. My parents and brothers agree with her. Then Father Charlie talked about it in his homily at Mass. I know he sees my heart and reads my mind!<br />
<br />
I want to find a way to meet my commitments and still travel. It would be a shame for that new RV to just sit and gather dust. I bought it for a reason.<br />
<br />
<i>Lord you gave me the desire to serve you.</i><br />
<i>And You gave me the desire to travel.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Help me to find a way to do both.</i><br />
<i>Your will, not mine.</i><br />
<i>~Cindy</i><br />
<br />Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-60330108120899715852016-04-03T10:34:00.001-07:002016-04-03T10:34:40.325-07:00We do not recognize Him!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>"Holiness is not for wimps and the cross is not negotiable, sweetheart, it's a requirement."</i></b><br />
<i>-Mother Angelica</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I love the readings during the Octave of Easter. Jesus is raised from the dead and He appears to His disciples and His Mother, Mary. Yet, each time that He appears to them they seem not to recognize Him!<br />
<br />
This has always concerned me. Why didn't they, who walked with Him, ate with Him, and shared in His public ministry not recognize Him when He appears to them? Father Charlie hypothesized that perhaps Jesus looked different, or perhaps they didn't expect to see Jesus. Jesus takes the time to appear in places that they had all been together during His life. I love that fact that Jesus cooks breakfast for them on the beach. What an incredible image of Our Lord on the beach, fish and bread on the fire cooking for His disciples. How much He loves them and us to do the most ordinary of tasks for them. He feeds them!<br />
<br />
We too are like the disciples. We don't recognize Jesus when we see Him. Perhaps it is like Father says, we don't expect to see Jesus there. But there He is, sitting in the pew behind us chatting as they plan their golf date, or the parishioner that rubs us the wrong way or that we rub the wrong way. He is in the homeless person on the corner that we wonder are they really down on their luck and should we just drive by. Jesus is in the family member that has hurt or disappointed us. Jesus is the rebellious teen or the forgetful parent. Jesus is in the sick or dying spouse that we care for on a daily basis until we fear we can't do it any more.<br />
<br />
Let us not forget that Jesus is also in the innocent smile of a child. The painted sunrise and sunset are gifts from God. Jesus is in the smile of a total stranger that lightened our dismal day.<br />
<br />
Jesus is not in the tomb. HE IS RISEN!<br />
<br />
<i>Lord help me as I move through my day</i><br />
<i>to see You in others.</i><br />
<i>Help me to see You in others that annoy, hurt or anger me.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Help me to see You in my small cross.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Help me to lighten the cross that others carry.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>~Cindy</i>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-26689566423833273352016-03-21T10:14:00.000-07:002016-03-21T10:14:31.983-07:00God Writes Straight<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>God writes straight with crooked lines.</i></b><br />
<b>-Fr. Charlie</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
I know that I have mentioned Fr. Charlie's quote that, "God writes straight with crooked lines" before. Lately it is a mantra that has been circling in my head for a couple of weeks.<br />
<br />
When Joseph is sent to meet his brothers, they want to murder him. Instead they sell him into slavery. Later when they are starving and head to Egypt they are saved by the very brother they wanted to murder. God took a seemingly bad situation and made it a good one.<br />
<br />
As I reflect on my life I see where God has taken what I considered a bad situation and He turned it around for good.<br />
<br />
When Michael was diagnosed and we knew he was terminal we could have been stuck in that mess of crooked lines. Instead God wrote straight to our hearts and freed us from our fears and doubts and drew us ever closer to Him.<br />
<br />
Now one of my daughters has been diagnosed with cancer and once again the lines are crooked. Even now I see God's hand writing straight. This diagnoses has allowed us to begin healing our relationship. God doesn't want us to have regrets. No, He calls us to lay every thing at His feet so that He can carry our burden.<br />
<br />
Certainly during Holy Week as we approach the crucifixion of Our Lord we see the crooked lines. Peter denies Him, Judas betrays Him, and Jesus feels abandon in the garden. Yet through all of this God's hand is writing straight. He turns this sacrifice into our salvation.<br />
<br />
<i>Lord,</i><br />
<i>Help me to not become entangled with crooked lines.</i><br />
<i>Give me the strength to see that Your hand is already writing straight.</i><br />
<i>~Cindy</i>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-37209804286163702292016-02-28T11:54:00.002-08:002016-02-28T17:29:31.595-08:00And my Knee HURTS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>Many would be willing to have afflictions provided that they not be inconvenienced by them.</i></b><br />
-St. Francis de Sales<br />
<br />
<br />
I am feeling like a little whiney baby complaining about my knee pain. It hurts. It has been hurting for a long time now. It is exhausting somedays just to sit. So I finally got into see the Orthopedic Doctor the other day. I wanted the doctor to tell me that I was going to get a new knee.<br />
<br />
Instead I was told that we would be trying cortisone injections. Not that my knee is not a candidate for surgery, it is. We need to try this first. So I got the injection. Then I hobbled out to the car and laid my head on the steering wheel and sobbed.<br />
<br />
What just happened? I did not get the outcome that I thought I was going to get. Instead I was told I needed to do this other thing first. No the injections will not cure what is wrong with my knee. In fact, if and when the injections do not work then yes, I will get a new knee. I believe the words he used were, "The golden age for knees is 65." Small comfort when you can't walk to do your grocery shopping, or pick up you mail, or drive!<br />
<br />
I am a couple of days away from the trauma of the visit and I have a different take on things. No, I still am not really satisfied, however, I was reminded that even a new knee is not a guarantee that I will be pain free. I am not looking to be pain free. I just want to be able to function.<br />
<br />
Then Matthew Kelly reminded me in his video on Making Sense of Suffering that only our Catholic/Christian faith adequately explains suffering. Suffering has value. Suffering has value when we offer it up with Jesus' suffering where it will be perfected. Not sure that I was willing to offer up my suffering initially. Still struggling actually.<br />
<br />
I know that I am never going to feel the way I did before. I am going to be inconvenienced. I am going to be in pain. It is what I do with that pain that is important.<br />
<br />
<i>O Lord,</i><br />
<i>my knee hurts,</i><br />
<i>I want to offer it up with Your suffering.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Help me to see this as an opportunity to</i><br />
<i>join You in Your suffering.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Remind me to look at You on the cross</i><br />
<i>and be silent.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>~Cindy</i>Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966261151997574765.post-22150617320762856942016-02-22T10:33:00.001-08:002016-02-22T10:33:19.001-08:00In the Presence of God...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i>It is true I am not always faithful, but I never lose courage. I leave myself in the Arms of Our Lord.</i></b><br />
-St. Therese of Lisieux<br />
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I have just attended the week long Lenten Mission presented by Fr. Michael Moore of the St. Patrick Fathers. It was a week filled with intense emotion. There were times when I was sure that God and Father had spoken.<br />
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It had been a challenging week before the retreat. I was feeling inadequate and less then what God expected of me. I was raking myself over the coals for old and new faults. I was spending a lot of time beating my breast.<br />
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Quickly I found that I was the only one beating me up! God had forgiven me. As Fr. Michael would say, "God buried the hatchet. It was I that marked the spot so that I could unbury it."<br />
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I am still thinking and praying about all that was said during the Mission. It gave me focus and started me walking again with the Lord, sans hatchet. I am trying to fall into the Arms of Our Lord with abandon. Trusting Him. Being courageous.<br />
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<i>I stand in the Presence of God,</i><br />
<i>with all my faults, wounds, hurts,</i><br />
<i>and disappointments.</i><br />
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<i>I stand in the Presence of God,</i><br />
<i>with all my doubts and faith.</i><br />
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<i>I stand in the Presence of God,</i><br />
<i>quietly replying...</i><br />
<i>Here I am Lord.</i><br />
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<i>~Cindy</i><br />
<br />Cindy Bonham Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02951155445059383511noreply@blogger.com0