The Church is Christ's Bride
Fr. Schmidt said something similar to this too. On the cross, Christ gave birth to the Church when the soldier pierced His Side. This was like when Eve was made from the side of Adam.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Hello,
Obviously this is true. However, it is only funny when you aren't actually experiencing it.
Don't know about you, but I've walked out of a bathroom with a purse around my neck.
Visiting a Public Restroom
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place.
Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!
The dispenser for the modern "seat covers"(invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty.
You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless (God I should have gone to the gym!!!) thigh muscles begin to shake.
You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance".
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That will have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smallerthan your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.
The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.
It is wet of course.
You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.
You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get".
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes.
The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, .....so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them.
A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this".
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom.
Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?" ..................
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse, and hand you Kleenex under the door!
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place.
Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!
The dispenser for the modern "seat covers"(invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty.
You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless (God I should have gone to the gym!!!) thigh muscles begin to shake.
You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance".
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That will have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smallerthan your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.
The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.
It is wet of course.
You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.
You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get".
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes.
The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat.
You're e-x-h-a-u-s-t-e-d.
You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, .....so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them.
A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this".
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom.
Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?" ..................
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse, and hand you Kleenex under the door!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
A Dim Dream...
Theology, while saying that a special illumination has been vouchsafed to Christians and (earlier) to Jews, also says that there is some divine illumination vouchsafed to all men. The Divine light, we are told, "lighteneth every man." We should, therefore, expect to find in the imagination of great Pagan teachers and myth makers some glimpse of that theme which we believe to be the very plot of the whole cosmic story-the theme of incarnation, death, and rebirth. And the differences between the Pagan Christs (Balder, Osiris, etc.) and the Christ Himself is much what we should expect to find.
The Pagan stories are all about someone dying and rising, either every year or else nobody knows where and nobody knows when. The Christian story is about a historical personage, whose execution can be dated pretty accurately, under a named Roman magistrate, and with whom the society He founded is in a continuous relation down to the present day. It is not the difference between falsehood and truth. It is the difference between a real event on the one hand and dim dreams or premonitions of that same event on the other. It is like watching something come gradually into focus; first it hangs in the clouds of myth and ritual, vast and vague, then it condenses, grows hard and in a sense small, as a historical event in first century Palestine. ---- C.S. Lewis, from "Is Theology Poetry", and essay from The Weight of Glory.
P.S.
Coming Soon from Desi and Portia:
Pan's Labyrinth and
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day reviews!
The Pagan stories are all about someone dying and rising, either every year or else nobody knows where and nobody knows when. The Christian story is about a historical personage, whose execution can be dated pretty accurately, under a named Roman magistrate, and with whom the society He founded is in a continuous relation down to the present day. It is not the difference between falsehood and truth. It is the difference between a real event on the one hand and dim dreams or premonitions of that same event on the other. It is like watching something come gradually into focus; first it hangs in the clouds of myth and ritual, vast and vague, then it condenses, grows hard and in a sense small, as a historical event in first century Palestine. ---- C.S. Lewis, from "Is Theology Poetry", and essay from The Weight of Glory.
P.S.
Coming Soon from Desi and Portia:
Pan's Labyrinth and
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day reviews!
“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” Howard Thurman
The March for Life will be held tomorrow to commemorate the horrible decision of Roe v. Wade.
I'm righting a paper for school on how Roe v. Wade actually was legally incorrect(It will be posted..
eventually). In other words, it was not just morally wrong, it actually ignored legal history and the history of abortion in general.
Here is a link for all of us who can't be in Washington D.C. tomorrow:
Saturday, January 16, 2010
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Friday, January 15, 2010
History Lesson of the Week
While browsing the web (read: not studying Euclid and Aristotle), I came across this post by Fr. Dwight Longenecker. Fr. Longenecker is a most fascinating person, a former Anglican clergymen who converted to Catholicism in 1995 and was ordained a priest in 2006 (his bio is here).
In the article, Fr. Longenecker tackles those age-old Catholic bogies, Henry VIII and Elizabeth I, with an impressive even-handedness that is all-together too rare nowadays.
A brief excerpt:
The Whig version of history--that Henry VIII was a rumbustious Englishman who took England in hand, cleaned up the corrupt English Church and enjoyed the fair wenches in his court is certainly a simplistic and stupid reading of the Tudor period of English history. Similarly, the myth of 'Good Queen Bess' the Virgin Queen, stepping onto cloaks thrown over puddles and flirting with princes while being 'married to England' makes for good patriotic English propaganda, but it too is a sort of Black Adder version of English history.
In fact, the Tudor revolution in England had fascinating political, economic and religious ramifications...
Go thou and check it out!
In the article, Fr. Longenecker tackles those age-old Catholic bogies, Henry VIII and Elizabeth I, with an impressive even-handedness that is all-together too rare nowadays.
A brief excerpt:
The Whig version of history--that Henry VIII was a rumbustious Englishman who took England in hand, cleaned up the corrupt English Church and enjoyed the fair wenches in his court is certainly a simplistic and stupid reading of the Tudor period of English history. Similarly, the myth of 'Good Queen Bess' the Virgin Queen, stepping onto cloaks thrown over puddles and flirting with princes while being 'married to England' makes for good patriotic English propaganda, but it too is a sort of Black Adder version of English history.
However, it is also a travesty to take an extremely opposite view: that Henry VIII and Elizabeth were fairy tale wicked monarchs who hated the Catholic Church and did everything they could to bring Protestantism to the land--that Henry was simply a lusty creep who wanted to abandon good Queen Catherine for his pretty paramour, and would do anything to bed Boleyn. Likewise seeing Elizabeth as the wicked witch of the West who likes torturing Jesuits is silly.
Go thou and check it out!
Monday, January 11, 2010
Grandmas
Hello Shakespearean ladies!
I'm back safely in my Dome-i-cile (ahahaha) and miss you all very much. You all made my break so beautiful and I'm so blessed that you are in my life!
Yesterday, I was reading the book "Raising Catholic Children" by Mary Ann Kuharski in the bus ride (holding it very carefully so that no one else in the bus could see what I was reading and start to wonder :-) ) and there was a chapter on the lady's grandma. What Mary Ann said was that grandma's have a unique ability for making you feel like you are turning into a fine young lady, an ability greater than pretty much anyone else's. Her grandma would take her on special girl outings or buy her than fancy Easter dress.
In my life, I think that is true. I remember one time a while back when I was walking to church with my Grandma D. She took one of my hands in hers and said, "You have my hands, dear. They're beautiful-very small and lovely."
In my opinion, my hands are short and pudgy and NOT good for playing the piano (therefore not ideal at all). But because Grandma loved them and because I have "Grandma's hands", I have always accepted my hands for who they are. :-) That may seem trivial, but I don't think so. I'll always treasure my Grandma's compliment, and I'll always love the fact that I have "her hands". I DO feel as if my hands are ladylike because of her!
Has anyone else experienced the magic of a Grandma's compliment or good deed that made them feel more like a young lady?
I'm back safely in my Dome-i-cile (ahahaha) and miss you all very much. You all made my break so beautiful and I'm so blessed that you are in my life!
Yesterday, I was reading the book "Raising Catholic Children" by Mary Ann Kuharski in the bus ride (holding it very carefully so that no one else in the bus could see what I was reading and start to wonder :-) ) and there was a chapter on the lady's grandma. What Mary Ann said was that grandma's have a unique ability for making you feel like you are turning into a fine young lady, an ability greater than pretty much anyone else's. Her grandma would take her on special girl outings or buy her than fancy Easter dress.
In my life, I think that is true. I remember one time a while back when I was walking to church with my Grandma D. She took one of my hands in hers and said, "You have my hands, dear. They're beautiful-very small and lovely."
In my opinion, my hands are short and pudgy and NOT good for playing the piano (therefore not ideal at all). But because Grandma loved them and because I have "Grandma's hands", I have always accepted my hands for who they are. :-) That may seem trivial, but I don't think so. I'll always treasure my Grandma's compliment, and I'll always love the fact that I have "her hands". I DO feel as if my hands are ladylike because of her!
Has anyone else experienced the magic of a Grandma's compliment or good deed that made them feel more like a young lady?
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Stealing Rose's Idea...
Rose did this on A Rose in Bloom (an excellent blog that you should all visit, by the way.) And I can never resist stealing a good idea when I see one. Thus, I continue:
Date... Sunday, January 10th, 2010 (2010 already-eep!)
Starting time... 2:10 AM (I have no idea why I'm up at this hour...)
Mood... Decidedly overwhelmed
Outside my window... Snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, oh and yes, more snow. (Maybe there's some ice thrown in there for variety. Love winter. Can't you tell? :) )
I'm thinking... Break is over :( ... I've gotta do columbinus research...scholarship apps...how on earth am I going to schedule Monday...Shakespeare paper? GAH!...interview...cinnamon rolls...blog posting...facebook...sleep? Naaaah... But, Hallelujah, praise the Lord! Return to Cranford is airing at 8:00 PM tomorrow evening! Mark my words, I will be glued to the telly as long as that delicious vision of a show is on the screen. Yes, that will definitely allow me to get through the week.
I'm reading...Re-reading Sense and Sensibility (It just gets better and better!) Red, by Ted Dekker-slow so far, not as compelling as Black, but I'm sure it'll pick up.
I'm listening to... The water seep through the aquarium filter...
I'm wearing... Green t-shirt, and lovely, warm, cozy fleece pants.
Yesterday, I... Had coffee with some lovely young ladies, went to work, then Mass, then played Trivial Pursuit with my family. Good day. :)
I'm excited for... Return to Cranford!!!
I'm sad because... Break is over and people are going back to college...This is simply not okay. :(
I'm hungry for... cinnamon rolls, gingerbread, or a corn dog.
The song stuck inside my head is... Invisible, by Taylor Swift
I want... Scholarship application essays to write themselves. Please.
I love... life, love, laughter, Balderdash and SNURGES!!!
I loathe... people who put up fronts.
This week, my goal is...to pray the Liturgy everyday. No slacking. And to get scholarship apps done. And to make it through the week.
Did I meet last week's goal?... Thankfully, I didn't set any for last week. :)
Ending time... 2:20 AM
Date... Sunday, January 10th, 2010 (2010 already-eep!)
Starting time... 2:10 AM (I have no idea why I'm up at this hour...)
Mood... Decidedly overwhelmed
Outside my window... Snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, oh and yes, more snow. (Maybe there's some ice thrown in there for variety. Love winter. Can't you tell? :) )
I'm thinking... Break is over :( ... I've gotta do columbinus research...scholarship apps...how on earth am I going to schedule Monday...Shakespeare paper? GAH!...interview...cinnamon rolls...blog posting...facebook...sleep? Naaaah... But, Hallelujah, praise the Lord! Return to Cranford is airing at 8:00 PM tomorrow evening! Mark my words, I will be glued to the telly as long as that delicious vision of a show is on the screen. Yes, that will definitely allow me to get through the week.
I'm reading...Re-reading Sense and Sensibility (It just gets better and better!) Red, by Ted Dekker-slow so far, not as compelling as Black, but I'm sure it'll pick up.
I'm listening to... The water seep through the aquarium filter...
I'm wearing... Green t-shirt, and lovely, warm, cozy fleece pants.
Yesterday, I... Had coffee with some lovely young ladies, went to work, then Mass, then played Trivial Pursuit with my family. Good day. :)
I'm excited for... Return to Cranford!!!
I'm sad because... Break is over and people are going back to college...This is simply not okay. :(
I'm hungry for... cinnamon rolls, gingerbread, or a corn dog.
The song stuck inside my head is... Invisible, by Taylor Swift
I want... Scholarship application essays to write themselves. Please.
I love... life, love, laughter, Balderdash and SNURGES!!!
I loathe... people who put up fronts.
This week, my goal is...to pray the Liturgy everyday. No slacking. And to get scholarship apps done. And to make it through the week.
Did I meet last week's goal?... Thankfully, I didn't set any for last week. :)
Ending time... 2:20 AM
Friday, January 1, 2010
Welcome in the New Year! Today might be my last post for some time. Monday brings me back to school, and I fully intend to work veryveryvery hard. But, it is sunny out(but too cold to go outside for very long) which reminds me of beauty and pretty clothes. So, here are some websites with great summer clothes (and yes, this may be a little too early for this post). I just couldn't resist:
From www.christa-taylor.com:
And here are some from www.latterdaybride.com and kathleensbridal.com that we might just like to look at. Where could you ever wear them?? But that does not make them less gorgeous.
You can also visit www.beautifullymodest.com to see some pretty dresses; their pictures were unavailable for "copy and paste."
And if you are determined to see every last inch of this post:
Skirts from www.belowtheknee.com:
And from http://www.sakurarose.com/skirts.html:
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