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The Veil Removed

The Veil Removed is a short film that reveals the coming together of heaven and earth at Mass, as seen by saints and mystics, revealed by scripture and in the catechism of the Catholic Church. Go to theveilremoved.com to learn more. The Veil Removed Copyright 2019

https://youtu.be/OOLZDaTgIaM

the anunciation 2THE POEM OF THE MAN-GOD

by Maria Valtorta

Excerpts from Volume 1

© 1986 Centro Editoriale Valtortiano srl Isola del Liri (Fr) Italy

The Annunciation (a partial excerpt)

The curtain moves fast, as if someone behind it ventilated it or shook it to draw it. And a pearl white light mixed with pure silver makes the slightly yellow walls clearer and makes the colours of the cloths brighter and Mary’s raised face more spiritual. And in such light, while the curtain is still drawn on the mystery to be accomplished, the Archangel prostrates himself: the curtain no longer moves: it is hanging stiff against the doorposts like a wall separating the inside from the outside.

The Angel must necessarily take a human appearance. But it is a transhumanised appearance. Of what flesh is this beautiful and gleaming figure made? With what substance did God form it to make it perceptible to the senses of the Virgin? Only God can possess such substances and use them so perfectly. It is a face, a body, eyes, a mouth, hair and hands like ours. But they are not our dull matter. It is a light that has taken the colour of flesh, of eyes, hair, lips, a light that moves and smiles, looks and speaks.

“Hail, Mary, full of Grace, Hail!” The voice is a sweet arpeggio as of pearls thrown on a precious metal plate.

Mary is startled and lowers Her head. And She is even more startled when She sees the shining creature kneeling at about a metre from Her and looking at Her with infinite veneration, his hands crossed over his chest.

Mary jumps to Her feet and She squeezes against the wall. She turns pale and red alternately. Her face shows surprise and fear. She subconsciously presses Her hands against Her breast hiding them under Her large sleeves. She stoops, endeavouring to conceal Her body as much as possible. An attitude of gentle modesty.

“No. Do not fear. The Lord is with You! You are blessed amongst all women!”

 

I wonder what would happen if we treated our Bible like we treat our cell phones?

What if we carried it around in our purses or pockets?

What if we turned back to go get it if we forgot it?

What if we flipped through it several times a day?

What if we used it to receive messages?

What if we treated it like we couldn’t live without it?

What if we gave it to kids as gifts?

What if we used it as we travelled?

What if we used it in case of an emergency?

What if we upgraded to include 24/7 tech service from the Holy Spirit?

This is something to make you go…hmmm…where is my Bible?

Oh, and one more thing. Unlike our cell phones, we don’t ever have to worry about our Bible being disconnected because Jesus already paid the bill!.

Adoration of the KingsMaria Valtorta, POEM OF THE MAN-GOD, Chapter 34.

The Adoration of the Wise Men

   …Mary is sitting with the Child in Her lap and Joseph is standing near Her.  But She also gets up and bows when She sees the Magi entering.  She is all dressed in white.  She is so beautiful in Her plain white dress which covers Her from Her neck down to Her feet, from Her shoulders to Her slender wrists.  She is so beautiful with Her head crowned with Her blond plaits, Her face more rosy for the emotion, with Her eyes smiling so sweetly while Her mouth gives a greeting: "May God be with you", that the three Magi stop for a moment, completely astonished.  They then proceed and prostrate themselves at Her feet…

   

   …The three Wise Men contemplate the Child, Who I think must be nine to twelve months old.  He is so lively and strong.  He is sitting on His Mother's lap and smiles and prattles with a shrill voice like a little bird.  He is all dressed in white like His Mother, with tiny sandals on His little feet.  His dress is a very simple one: a small tunic, from which His restless feet protrude, and His plump little hands which would like to get hold of everything, and above all, a most beautiful little face in which two dark blue eyes shine, and a pretty mouth with dimples at the sides shows its first tiny teeth when it smiles.  His pretty little curls are so bright and soft that they seem gold dust.

    

   The oldest of the Magi speaks on behalf of them all.  He explains to Mary that one night the previous December, they saw a new star of an unusual brightness appear in the sky.  The maps of the sky had never shown or mentioned such a star.  Its name was unknown because it had no name…

    

  They had seen it and had striven to understand its meaning.  They were happy to give up the little sleep they usually granted themselves and forgetting even their food, they devoted themselves entirely to studying the zodiac.  And the conjunctions of the stars, the time, the season, the calculation of the hours passed and of the astronomic combinations had told them the name and secret of the star.  Its name: "Messiah".  Its secret: "The Messiah had come to our world."  And they had set out to worship Him.  Each of them unknown to the others.  Over mountains, across deserts, along valleys and rivers, traveling by night they had come towards Palestine, because the star was moving in that direction.  Each of them unknown to the others.  For each of them, from three different points on earth, it was going in that direction.  And then they met beyond the Dead Sea.  God's will had gathered them there, and they then proceeded together, understanding one another, notwithstanding that each spoke his own language: by a miracle of the Eternal Father they were able to understand and speak the language of each country.

   …And they had come towards Bethlehem and as soon as they left the Holy City, the star had reappeared to them, and the night before their arrival in Bethlehem its brightness had increased;  the whole sky was ablaze.  Then the star had stopped over this house engulfing all the light of the other stars in its ray.  And they had understood that the Divine New-Born Baby was there.  And now they were worshiping Him, offering their gifts, and above all, their hearts, which never cease thanking God for the grace granted to them;  neither would they ever stop loving His Son Whose holy human body they had now seen.  Later they intended to go back to king Herod, because he also wanted to adore Him…

     

   …She lays Him in the arms of the oldest one, who kisses Him and receives His caress, and he then hands Him over to the other two…

     

  …The three Men go down the steps.  The caravan is already there waiting for them.  The horses' studs shine in the setting sun.  People have gathered in the little square watching the unusual sight.

   Jesus laughs clapping His hands.  His Mother has lifted Him up on the wide parapet of the landing and is holding Him against Her breast with Her arm so that He may not fall.  Joseph has gone down with the Magi and is holding the stirrup to each of them while they mount their horses and the camel.

   Servants and masters are now all on horseback.  The starting command is given.  The three Men bow down as low as the necks of their mounts in a final gesture of homage.  Joseph bows down.  Also Mary bows and then She guides Jesus' hand again in a gesture of goodbye and blessing…

holy family at the nativity1. The Holy Family actively participated in their response to God’s invitation.

In Luke’s Gospel, we see Mary responding with both a verbal response, “Let it be to me according to your word,” (1:38) and then living out her response through her actions of carrying and birthing her Son. In Matthew’s Gospel, we do not get to hear Joseph’s response, but we read the line of Scripture that shows his response through action, “He did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him.” (1:24) Jesus’ yes we see happening throughout Scripture as He grew into His ministry. All three members of the Holy Family actively participated in God’s invitation to bring about God’s Kingdom through their words and actions. We, too, are invited to actively participate in God’s invitation to us. Is God inviting us to a verbal response and/or a response of action right now?

2. The Holy Family’s yes to God was not just one time, but an ongoing yes.

As a parent, I know that raising a child requires an ongoing commitment to God’s invitation to be a co-creator in nurturing and parenting a child. Mary and Joseph did not just say yes once, but they continued their response to God’s invitation to raise and nurture Jesus. Their response to God’s invitation deepened in their lives. Jesus’ response to God’s invitation occurred over and over again as He fully entered into His public ministry and later His Passion, Death, and Resurrection.

3. The Holy Family rooted their lives in God.

Mary, Joseph, and Jesus were able to say yes to God because they had a relationship with God. While we only get a short glimpse into Mary’s and Joseph’s relationship with God, I can only imagine that it must have been strong and continuously nurtured. How else did they say yes to both birthing and raising the Messiah? The Gospels offer us many examples of Jesus turning to God the Father in prayer to help Him continue to say yes to His mission.  -Loyola Press

3rd week candel advent
 
 
As Advent is patterned in part after Lent, Gaudete Sunday is similar to the Lenten Laetare Sunday, which also represents joy and falls at the midpoint of Lent.
 
And that finally leads to the explanation for the pink candle.  In the ancient Church on Laetare Sunday in Lent, the Pope gave a citizen a pink rose.  The tradition has contined, as Popes bestowed golden roses on Catholic rulers and now more commonly, on places of devotion.  
 
Following the papal rose custom, bishops and priests began wearing rose-colored vesments on Laetare Sunday.  The Church then brought the Lenten practice of rose vestments to Advent on Gaudette Sunday.  As a result, the pink candle gained a place in the Advent wreath.
 
Although the culture tells us it’s already Christmas, the Church reminds us through the pink candle of Advent that there is an appointed time for everything (Eccl. 3:1).  The time now is for rejoicing-because the Lord is coming soon!
 

the virgin mary gratia plena cinema photography

The Immaculate Conception is one of the most Catholic, most mysterious, and most misunderstood Catholic dogmas. The Immaculate Conception has nothing to do with the conceiving of Jesus within the womb of Mary - even though the Gospel reading at Mass that day is the account of the Annunciation, when the Archangel Gabriel told Mary that she was to be the Mother of  Jesus. It’s within the text of that Gospel that Catholicism gets the Immaculate Conception.

Catholics believe in the Immaculate Conception, which means that from the first moment of her conception in the womb of her mother, St. Ann, Mary was kept free from original sin by the power of divine grace. So the Immaculate Conception is about Mary’s conception in her mother’s womb. The Incarnation, on the other hand, refers to Jesus’ conception in His mother’s womb.

When the Archangel Gabriel addressed Mary in the first chapter of Luke’s Gospel, he said, “Hail Mary, full of grace.” She was full of grace because of the Immaculate Conception, a divine gift to her from God. She didn’t earn or merit it. He freely gave it to her, so she could provide a worthy, spotless, and pure human nature for Jesus.

christmas advent wreath for website

I have often wondered who waits for whom? I somehow remember that a guy chases a girl until she catches him. Do I wait for the Lord or is the Lord waiting for me? Is the Lord hiding in an obvious place like behind a branch without leaves and is all excited when found. Am I the one looking? Am I the one to be found? We have made many pilgrimages to almost all the Holy Places. The real issue is that we need to look in more obvious places. What obvious place would Jesus hide? An inn? A barn? A cave? A crib? I think we need to ask the question about ourselves. Where and how do we hide? Under piles of work? Busy, busy, busy? In the yard? I could focus on any of those. I choose to speak about hiding behind past hurts or wounds. Wounded wolves, they tell me, hide in a corner. They howl and bark to protect the wound. If you approach, the howl becomes fiercer and more angry. The fierce anger, in the mind of the wolf, hides the wound. No one can get near it! I see God hiding behind a leafless branch excited at the opportunity of being found, and we are hiding behind our bark and growl. No one can come near. So, how do we come together? In our fair or unfair bark, we wait and wait and wait. Like the tantrum of a spoiled child, we have to wait it out and see the branch. The Lord is there all along, still excited about being found. All of our prayer is not a denial of our wounds. Our prayer is an invitation to take the risk and find a new way of healing the pain by looking behind the branch. Help to make this Advent a prayerful time of waiting to see who finds whom? Would you not wait so that the Lord might meet you?

teacup
 
 
But the master only nodded and said, quietly, ‘Not yet.’ He spun me and poked and prodded and bent me out of shape and then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I yelled and knocked and pounded at the door. “Help! Get me out of here!” “When I thought I couldn’t bear it another minute, the door opened. He carefully took me out and put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. Oh, that felt so good! But, after I cooled he picked me up and he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. ‘Oh, please; Stop it!’ I cried. He only shook his head and said. ‘Not yet!’ Then suddenly he put me back into the oven. It was twice as hot and I thought I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I was convinced I would never make it. Just then the door opened and he took me out and again placed me on the shelf, where I cooled and wondered ‘What’s he going to do to me next?’ An hour later he showed me a mirror and said ‘Look at yourself, you’re beautiful.’
 
God knows what He is doing for each of us. He is the potter, and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us, and expose us to just enough pressures of just the right kinds to give us the opportunity to become the disciples He wants us to be.
 
 boiling water
Once upon a time a daughter complained to her father that her life was miserable and that she didn’t know how she was going to make it. She was tired of fighting and struggling all the time. It seemed just as one problem was solved, another one soon followed.
Her father, a chef, took her to the kitchen. He filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Once the three pots began to boil, he placed potatoes in one pot, eggs in the second pot and ground coffee beans in the third pot. He then let them sit and boil without saying a word to his daughter. The daughter moaned and impatiently waited, wondering what he was doing. After twenty minutes he turned off the burners. He took the potatoes out of the pot and placed them in a bowl. He took the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. He then ladled the coffee out and placed it in a cup.
Turning to her, he asked. “What do you see?” “Potatoes, eggs and coffee,” she hastily replied.
“Look closer”, he said, “and touch the potatoes.” She did and noted that they were soft.
He then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg.
Finally, he asked her to sip the coffee. Its rich aroma brought a smile to her face.
“Father, what does this mean?” she asked.
He explained that the potatoes, the eggs and coffee beans had each faced the same adversity – the boiling water. However, each one reacted differently.
The potato went in strong, hard and unrelenting, but in boiling water, it became soft and weak. The egg was fragile, with the thin outer shell protecting its liquid interior until it was put in the boiling water. Then the inside of the egg became hard. However, the ground coffee beans were unique. After they were exposed to the boiling water, they changed the water and created something new.
“Which one are you?” he asked his daughter. “When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a potato, an egg, or a coffee bean?”

child watching tv

A few months before I was born, my dad met a stranger who was new to our small Tennessee town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer, and soon invited him to live with our family. The stranger was quickly accepted and was around to welcome me into the world a few months later. As I grew up I never questioned his place in our family. Mom taught me to love the Word of God. Dad taught me to obey it. But the stranger was our storyteller. He could weave the most fascinating tales. Adventures, mysteries and comedies were daily conversations. He could hold our whole family spellbound for hours each evening. He was like a friend to the whole family. He took Dad, Bill and me to our first major league baseball game. He was always encouraging us to see the movies and he even made arrangements to introduce us to several movie stars. The stranger was an incessant talker. Dad didn't seem to mind, but sometimes Mom would quietly get up - while the rest of us were enthralled with one of his stories of faraway places - and go to her room read her Bible and pray. I wonder now if she ever prayed that the stranger would leave. You see, my dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions. But this stranger never felt an obligation to honor them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our house - not from us, from our friends, or adults. Our longtime visitor, however, used occasional four-letter words that burned my ears and made Dad squirm. To my knowledge the stranger was never confronted. My dad was a teetotaler who didn't permit alcohol in his home - not even for cooking. But the stranger felt he needed exposure and enlightened us to other ways of life. He offered us beer and other alcoholic beverages often. He made cigarettes look tasty, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished. He talked freely (too much too freely) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing. I know now that my early concepts of the man/woman relationship were influenced by the stranger. As I look back, I believe it was the grace of God that the stranger did not influence us more. Time after time he opposed the values of my parents. Yet he was seldom rebuked and never asked to leave. More than thirty years have passed since the stranger moved in with the young family on Morningside Drive. But if I were to walk into my parents' den today, you would still see him sitting over in a corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures. His name? We always called him TV.

 

To let go does not mean to stop caring, it means I can’t do it for someone else.

To let go is not to cut myself off, it’s the realization that I can’t control another.

To let go is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences.

To let go is not to try to change or blame another, it’s to make the most of myself.

To let go is not to care for, but to care about.

To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.

To let go is not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being.

To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes, but to allow others to affect their own destinies.

To let go is not to be protective, it’s to permit another to face reality.

To let go is not to criticize, or regulate anyone, but to try to become what I dream I can do.

To let go is to fear less, and to love more.

st john vianney

St. John Vianney lived in France in the early 19th century. He is so respected for his holy work as a priest that he is the patron saint of priests. And apparently he regularly did battle with the evil one.

Once, his sister spent the night at his home attached to his Parish Church. She was awakened by a strange rapping sound on her wall and table. She went to St. John Vianney, who was hearing confessions late at night, and he explained:

“Oh, my child, you should not have been frightened: It is the Grappin [“pitchfork”; his nickname for Satan]. He cannot hurt you. As for me, he torments me in sundry ways. At times he seizes me by the feet and drags me about the room. It is because I convert souls to the good God.”

In another instance, St. John Vianney was in his Parish Church hearing Confessions when someone reported to him that his bedroom had caught on fire. His response?

“The Grappin is very angry. He couldn’t catch the bird so he has burned the cage.”

A minister dies and is waiting in line at the Pearly Gates. Ahead of him is a guy who’s dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket, and jeans. Saint Peter addresses this guy, “Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you to the Kingdom of Heaven?” The guy replies, “I’m Joe Cohen, taxi-driver, of Noo Yawk City.” Saint Peter consults his list. He smiles and says to the taxi-driver, “Take this silken robe and golden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” The taxi-driver goes into Heaven with his robe and staff, and it’s the minister’s turn. He stands erect and booms out, “I am Joseph Snow, pastor of Saint Mary’s for the last forty-three years.” Saint Peter consults his list. He says to the minister, “Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” “Just a minute,” says the minister. “That man was a taxi-driver and he gets a silken robe and golden staff. How can this be?” “Up here, we work by results,” says Saint Peter. “While you preached, people slept; while he drove, people prayed.”

Blessing of the Pets
 
Here's the surprising answer of a 6 year old child. 
 
Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle. 
 
I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home. 
 
As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience. 
 
The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. 
 
The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that dogs' lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why." 
 
Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live. 
 
He said, "People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life — like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?" The six-year-old continued, 
 
"Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay for as long as we do." 
 
SO: Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. 
Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like: 
 
• When your loved ones come home, always run to greet them. 
• Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride. 
• Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure Ecstasy. 
• Take naps. 
• Stretch before rising. 
• Run, romp, and play daily. 
• Thrive on attention and let people touch you. 
• Avoid biting when a simple growl will do. 
• On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass. 
• On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree. 
• When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body. 
• Delight in the simple joy of a long walk. 
• Be faithful. 
• Never pretend to be something you're not. 
• If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it. 
• When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.
 
That's the secret of happiness that we can learn from a good dog!!
 
padre pio at mass 2
 
Stay with me, Lord, for it is necessary to have You present so that I do not forget You. You know how easily I abandon You.
Stay with me, Lord, because I am weak and I need Your strength, that I may not fall so often. 
Stay with me, Lord, for You are my life, and without You, I am without fervor.
Stay with me, Lord, for You are my light, and without You, I am in darkness.
Stay with me, Lord, to show me Your will.
Stay with me, Lord, so that I hear Your voice and follow You.
Stay with me, Lord, for I desire to love You very much, and always be in Your company. 
Stay with me, Lord, if You wish me to be faithful to You.
Stay with me, Lord, for as poor as my soul is, I want it to be a place of consolation for You, a nest of love.
Stay with me, Jesus, for it is getting late and the day is coming to a close, and life passes; death, judgment, eternity approaches. It is necessary to renew my strength, so that I will not stop along the way and for that, I need You.
It is getting late and death approaches, I fear the darkness, the temptations, the dryness, the cross, the sorrows. O how I need You, my Jesus, in this night of exile!
Stay with me tonight, Jesus, in life with all its dangers. I need You. Let me recognize You as Your disciples did at the breaking of the bread, so that the Eucharistic Communion be the Light which disperses the darkness, the force which sustains me, the unique joy of my heart.
Stay with me, Lord, because at the hour of my death, I want to remain united to You, if not by communion, at least by grace and love.
Stay with me, Jesus, I do not ask for divine consolation, because I do not merit it, but the gift of Your Presence, oh yes, I ask this of You!
Stay with me, Lord, for it is You alone I look for, Your Love, Your Grace, Your Will, Your Heart, Your Spirit, because I love You and ask no other reward but to love You more and more.
With a firm love, I will love You with all my heart while on earth and continue to love You perfectly during all eternity. Amen
 

presentation of mary in the temple

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.

If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.

If children live with ridicule, they learn to be shy.

If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.

On the other hand when we uplift and encourage children we help them for life:

If children live with tolerance, they learn to be patient.

If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.

If children live with praise, they learn to appreciate.

If children live with fairness, they learn justice.

If children live with security, they learn to have faith.

If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.

If children live with acceptance and friendship, they learn to find love in the world.

 

It’s strange how twenty dollars seems like such a large amount when you donate it to church, but such a small amount when you go shopping.

It’s strange how 2 hours seem so long when you’re at church, and how short they seem when you’re watching a good movie.

It’s strange that you can’t find words to say when you’re praying, but you have no trouble thinking what to talk about with a friend.

It’s strange how difficult it is to read one chapter of the Bible, but how easy it is to read a popular novel.

It’s strange how everyone wants front-row-tickets to concerts, but they want to sit in the last row at Church.

It’s strange how we need to know about an event for Church two to three weeks before the day so we can include it in our agenda, but we can adjust it for other events in the last minute?

It’s strange how difficult it is to learn a fact about God and share it with others, but it’s easy to repeat gossip.

It’s strange how we believe everything that magazines and newspapers say, but we question the words in the Bible?

 ant carrying contact lens

Brenda was a young woman who was invited to go rock climbing. Although she was scared to death, she went with her group to a tremendous granite cliff. In spite of her fear, she put on the gear, took a hold on the rope and started up the face of that rock. Well, she got to a ledge where she could take a breather. As she was hanging on there, the safety rope snapped against Brenda’s eye and knocked out her contact lens.

Well, here she is on a rock ledge, with hundreds of feet below her and hundreds of feet above her. Of course, she looked and looked and looked, hoping it had landed on the ledge, but it just wasn’t there. Here she was, far from home, her sight now blurry. She was desperate and began to get upset, so she prayed to the Lord to help her to find it. When she got to the top, a friend examined her eye and her clothing for the lens, but there was no contact lens to be found. She sat down, despondent, with the rest of the party, waiting for the rest of them to make it up the face of the cliff. She looked out across range after range of mountains, thinking of that Bible verse that says, “The eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth.” She thought, “Lord, You can see all these mountains. You know every stone and leaf, and You know exactly where my contact lens is. Please help me.”

Finally, they walked down the trail to the bottom. At the bottom there was a new party of climbers just starting up the face of the cliff. One of them shouted out, “Hey, you guys! Anybody lose a contact lens?” Well, that would be startling enough, but you know why the climber saw it? An ant was moving slowly across the face of the rock, carrying it. Brenda told me that her father is a cartoonist. When she told him the incredible story of the ant, the prayer and the contact lens, he drew a picture of an ant lugging that contact lens with the words, “Lord, I don’t know why You want me to carry this thing. I can’t eat it, and it’s awfully heavy. But if this is what You want me to do, I’ll carry it for You.”

I think it would probably do some of us good to occasionally say, “God, I don’t know why You want me to carry this load. I can see no good in it and it’s awfully heavy. But, if You want me to carry it, I will.” God doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called.

TOURS & RETREATS

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PROLIFE

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A Prayer for an End to Abortion

Heavenly Father,

Spare our nation from the scourge of abortion.

Protect the lives of children in the womb.

Give hope and strength to their mothers.

Stir love in the hearts of fathers to support and cherish mother and child.

Cause our elected leaders and the courts to recognize and protect the person hood of unborn children.

Lift up church leaders to proclaim a Culture of Life.

Lead parents who had abortions to repentance and healing.

Bring about the conversion of the abortionist, of those who deny the birthright of children and those who are indifferent.

Grant me the courage and energy to be a Defender of Life.

I ask this through my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.march for life at church 3

We, at St. Helena Catholic Church, are concerned with educating, directing, and sustaining all who visit. 

In particular those who draw near to the teachings and traditions of Holy Mother Church. 

We strive to achieve this by utilizing the Cardinal Virtues of Justice, Prudence, Temperance and Fortitude.

PSR

PSR 2020 June 8th-19th