Thankful for the Fruit of Suffering

Am up after spending a couple hours trying to manage pain in bed. Took the strongest over-the-counter pain reliever, along with some yoghurt to coat the stomach, and will attempt lying down again in awhile.

At times when the pain soars like an eagle, the heart and mind desire to pray--such as the Chaplet of Divine Mercy or Rosary--but only a line or two is repeated: for the sake of His Sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world.

That's about it. The mind simply allows thoughts to wing their way through the soul, and thoughts in these early morning hours have been of wondering if I really do love Jesus as much as possible, for I have such comforts, such luxuries, and life is so easy. I considered the lovely clothes which, although not so expensive, are very beautiful, and the bed to sleep on, and the marvelous encounters with people daily, either through e-mail or on an errand. I also thought about people who I do not visit or stay in contact with--perhaps as some think I ought. But I pray about them, and think of them, perhaps more often than what a visit would entail. My outer appearance belies the interior vocations and the suffering which begs its own attention.

Then, the mind considers this soul's motto: just adore Him. And, in all, especially in this early morning suffeirng and all the thoughts, the body and soul ponder adoration of Jesus. Of course, it seems never enough; and in this seeming lack, He is adored.

This soul is especially hopeful that the suffering is helping with some prayer intentions and requests! It is not for me to know, though; this is part of the training as a victim soul: Jesus, I trust in Thee!

This morning will be orchid-watering at my small but very lovely hermitage. Then noon Mass in which I am to lector. May all that I think, say or do be from within Jesus' Sacred Heart--and also, now, keeping in mind His Sacred Head, His Wisdom, His Mind with thoughts and memories and feelings--His very hopes for mankind and even for the unknown, anonymous individuals.

Yes, a friend had e-mailed about Ms. Bhutto, and since I am also a hermit and rather interiorized, I had this woman confused with the woman who has written a book and speaks regarding her tremendous act of forgiving those who massacred her people and her family while she remained with other women, jammed in a bathroom for months. She is a witness to hope, a witness to the power of forgiveness. But I happened across (when looking for an update on the little Madeleine McCann who is still missing) Ms. Bhutto's name, and read briefly of her being assassinated.

I e-mailed my friend to correct my error in confusion of these women, and commented that I guess my life is more relegated to the many of us unknown types except for when God breaks into my interiority with the knowledge of these public souls who are public as witness and for also more prayer. Yes, God creates our souls to glorify Him whether He calls us into public view or to remain hidden in His wounds.

Life is so easy in God. I also commented to this friend who suffers from mental trials, that our lives are so blessed, so comfortable, so easy--and this allowed truly due to our sufferings. If we did not have such suffering as we do, or any less, we would be called back out into the world of sufferings of a different kind. But God has given us the leisure to suffer in relative comfort, to have our main adoration of Him and our life's work to be suffering. In this, we have a blissful existence.

Through some of the complaints I edit for a consumer entity, the frustrations, anger and stress come through from people of all strata so cheated. But often, the cheating could be avoided by not consuming various products and services. When people write of their lives being depressed or Christmas ruined because their xbox doesn't work and the company won't fix it (whatever is an exbox?), my life of suffering seems so free and delightful, for it is not caused by some little machine that breaks down.

My suffering is from God, and it is returned to God, reflected for Him as best I can in love and hope that it is being used by God in reparation for the sins of the world. The people whose Christmas was ruined because they did not have this little box to play games on, are hopefully receiving some kind of peace from the very pain that this body bears--all the more now, in gratitude. I so much prefer to be wracked with pain this morning than to be frustrated by the sufferings caused in and by "the world." While those sufferings can surely turn a soul to God, often the souls do not choose to consider God as their only Saving Grace.

While in bed, prior to the easing of pain with this over-the-counter medication, I was thinking of my dad, now deceased six years. When I'd ask him, year after year, what he'd like for Christmas, he'd respond, "Peace and quiet. I'd just like some peace and quiet." I smiled in the pain, as I realized the peace and joy I experience in my dual vocations--in my finally surrendering to the hermit life with all its misunderstanding by most people--and having accepted the vocation as victim soul years ago, that perhaps my dad's desire for peace and quiet is what, truly, all desire, deep down in.

Suffering allows those fortunate enough to be blessed with and accept it, to be gifted with peace and quiet. Inside of pain there truly is peace and quiet for those who comprehend that God is inside of pain.

One time while praying before the Tabernacle, something happened which I won't go into, but there was a message, and it was from the Mother of God, and she said: You will find Him in your pain. It is so true. All us sufferers must pray that people want to look for Him!