Things You Never Thought You Would Say

As a parent, I've found that all sorts of things leave my mouth that never occurred to me that I wouldn't say, things like:

- We don't lick yaks. Who would have thought this would be a problem? But, you know how most alphabet books have a yak for Y? My son likes to lick them. Don't ask. I don't know.

- Don't lick the bubbles. Apparently he just likes to lick things?

- No drinking maple! This one is a bit more plausible. One of my sisters used to hide in the fridge and pump Hershey's syrup into her mouth.

- The trash stays IN the trash. I've said this to dogs before, but not to kids. But my son really likes trash: As in, playing with it.

- Put the poopy diaper IN the trash. My son likes to "throw away" his diapers. See above.

- We do not sing the Pie Song in church. My husband starting singing him "The Day the Music Died" as a bedtime song. We all rue the day, for my son sings it everywhere. He calls it the Pie Song.

contributions, anyone?

Petrochemicals Are Bad.

See this? It looks beautiful, n'est pas? Brilliant swirls of vermillion ("Red, red, vermillion red")* Do not be decieved by appearances, my friends. This substance is full-on evil. I cannot tell you exactly how my son feels when he ingests the infamous Red 40, but I can tell you how I feel: like I want to take my skin off, or crawl out of my body; like I need extra limbs in order to use the frenetic energy trying to escape my body; like there is a volcano in my brain, one of those bubble-type ones. And then I can also tell you what I see in my son. One time, when Small Son was about 9 months old and was still nursing (nurse nurse), I was very naughty and ate about six strings of red licorice. That night, he was awake for hours, flailing spastically all over, shrieking, and apparently feeling like I felt, more or less. And then last night . . . oh dear God, last night . . . he had some imitation crab meat last night (we had ordered chinese), and it started I think before midnight, and he was up multiple times, on like 150 rpm and more or less frantic. As far as I know, those are the only times he's consumed significant amounts of Red 40, and hopefully we can keep it that way.

Read more about Red 40 from this site, where I got the nifty photo.

*Red, red, vermilion red,

With buds and blooms in a glorious head!
There isn't a flower, the wide world through,
That glows with a brighter hue.
Her name Geranium ev'ryone knows;
She just as happy wherever she grows,
In an earthen pot or a garden bed
Red, red, vermilion red!

-Cicily Mary Barker

To the Altar of God

I was talking with my dad this morning about one of the things most dear to my heart, which is the Latin Mass. We were discussing it specifically in the context first of Scripture in the Mass, and then of healing, as in, this is one of the things to which I accredit much of my healing.

First: My mum was telling me about "one of the best talks she's ever heard on the changes of the Mass." She said one of these things was the desire to incorporate more Scripture in the liturgy. Thinking of the rotating years of Scripture, that made surface sense to me. I respond here, however with one thought and one objection.

Thought: From a Byzantine Catholic priest, an incredibly holy man, at St. Basil's in Irving, TX, where several of my friends attended Liturgy. Like the Tridentine Rite, the Byzantine Liturgy has a set year of Scripture. Father's observation was that the Church makes it so because it takes us so long to understand the Gospels: every time we hear it we can go deeper. This can apply to the rotating years, too, of course, but consider this: With the rotating-year calendar, by the time you are 30 you have heard three Gospels ten times. With the one-year calendar, you have heard it 30 times. So, more, or more frequently, I suppose. I never get tired of the one-year readings, and I usually forget them by the time I hear them the next year--sure doesn't take me three years for them to leave my consciousness!

Objection: If they wanted more Scripture, why did they cut so much from the canon of the Mass?!

Which was my segue into the "Next", because the Scripture in the Tridentine Mass has brought me to tears more times than I care to tell or remember. It was through these gentle psalms that I permeated through my soul, like music, slipping between the cracks of all the walls I had put up. They taught me that we can approach the Altar of God because we are healed by His joy, and by giving thanks to Him for His good works. In fact, this is how the Mass opens, with the priest standing at the foot of the altar:

I will go in to the altar of God. To God who giveth joy to my youth.

(Psalm 42. Judica Mel)

Judge me, O God, and distinguish my cause from the nation that is not holy: deliver me from the unjust and deceitful man.

For Thou art God, my strength: why hast Thou cast me off? and why do I go sorrowful whilst the enemy afflicteth me?

Send forth Thy light and Thy truth: they have conducted me and brought me unto Thy holy hill, and into Thy tabernacles.

And I will go in to the altar of God: to God who giveth joy to my youth.

To Thee, O God, my God I will give praise upon the harp; why art thou sad, O my soul, and why does thou disquiet me?

Hope in God, for I will still give praise to Him: the salvation of my countenance and my God.

~~~~~

Our help is in the name of the Lord. Who made heaven and earth.

Lest anyone say that pre-Vatican II Catholicism lacked joy! The priest stands at the altar as a sinner waits for repentance and salvation, as Moses stood at the foot of Mt. Sinai, as Christ waited at the foot of Calvary. He prays this Psalm, as a reminder that God, whom he is about to approach at the Altar, is the source of our salvation, hope, joy, and thanksgiving. And then he will ascend, as all in Scripture ascended mountains to find God, to the altar of Our Lord, where he will re:enact Calvary for us, and make our Salvation present in the Eucharist, where he will pray that God will 'Accept . . . this unspotted host, which I, Thine unworthy servant, offer to Thee, my God, living and true' and to 'grant that, by the mystic commingling of this water and wine, we may become partakers of His divinty, who have vouchsafed to partake of our humanity, even Jesus Christ, our Lord.'

Not having "easy access" to a Latin Mass has been perhaps the single biggest hardship of moving to Virginia. My soul yearns for it . . . O Lord, I have loved the beauty of Thy house, the place where Thy glory dwelleth.

photo courtesy of mundabor.wordpress.com

God be with us all, and continue to heal each of us through His grace and beauty.