Who Suffers for the Victim Souls?

This question popped, and the answer is: Jesus.

When the suffering gets to the point of annihilation, or approaching that, from all human perspective, there is but Jesus Who takes the brunt of the load. As He always did and does and will.

Last night, awoke a few minutes prior to 3 a.m. Awakened by the sound of singing, and the song was a hymn, and it was a hymn not often sung at Masses, but yet the words came and had meaning.

In the thick of suffering, now approaching 3 p.m., the words and tune hide behind clouds. Yet the reality remains, and the message, and so there is no doubt about the suffering, no frantic desperation. That doesn't mean no attempts at distraction. Have been painting another picket fence section, laid out on sawhorses in the garage. Praying. Trying to keep the mind off the pain so as to not vomit. Never liked to vomit so mostly never did! Act of the will, in a temporal affect!

Now am writing, for the section needs to dry before painting the reverse. And writing about suffering, and thinking about Jesus taking it from here, for He Is. Thinking about victim souls who were bedridden, and their only distraction was removal of another means, into another world. Am part-way out and on the way. Then, was thinking about practicing what has been written in this blog, and what has been read, and to coach the self to suffer as well as possible, like a runner in a relay, and now ready to hand off to Jesus for the rest of the race.

The hymn. It is being sung in timeless suffering, and the recollection of the voices in the middle of the night, helps assuage the pain enough to tolerate, to think enough to be able to write.

And writing is a good distraction, depending upon what is being written. After all the over-the-counter pain relievers that might possibly take the edge off, gave up on those. Poured a half glass of some awful bubbly kind of wine, purchased a year ago on the discount shelf, local grocery. Maybe that will help settle the stomach?

Too much pain to read, or not yet. Too much pain to attempt to figure out the electronic tuner for the harp, or to tune the harp, to learn a new trick. Not yet. When all thoughts of this or that placid activity turn the stomach and increase the desire to call the confessor or spiritual da--then it is time to just hang in and keep in conversation with Jesus.

A bit ago came a comment, and it led to thoughts about distractions. And previously had been in a fuss about distractions, thinking they should be rid out. Yet now, in addition to the pleasure of suffering for souls, thoughts consider that distractions can be gifts to be utilized in time of need!

One distraction considered was to gut it up and go to the nursery, to get three chamaecyparis out of hock, and return and try to plant them along with the three dwarf evergreens--all in one fell swoop so as to have them spotted in lovely and cohesive, artistic array. But the financial advisor had already sent out the little help check yesterday. That ruled out this distraction option, for now will wait two weeks to plant any of them, unless some inspiration comes for the three that are here now.

Just as well! Too sick to be driving anywhere, even a few miles. Too sick to eat, too sick to even want to sip that bubbly pinot noir. But will, in hopes it will offer the stomach a good and lovely distraction.

Since this suffering came from heaven, as have not lifted anything heavy, not over done, not this or that--and since the voices were singing the appropriate and unexpected hymn in the middle of the night--will lean into the suffering, and utilize the small distractions available, although once at this stage, there is really nothing to do but suffer it and let Jesus take it from here.

The mind, however, and the attitude: remain calm, offer it for whatever Jesus desires and whoever of greatest need in His Sight and Mind, be joyful in the mystery of it all, and keep going in small ways, silently, in stillness and serenity. Be grateful for the gift of distractions--the ones that He chooses to gift. And in a bit, if He so wills, read a little of St. Hildegarde. Lives of saints, especially the old, hardbound larger print books, are soothing and not too mind-rattling. Hildegarde had her suffering, and she also was outstanding in her time for medicinal abilities with herbs.

And think about the ones in the past two days for which a willingness to suffer was offered, and know at least in one or two cases, the suffering is accepted and has had its effect! Praise be to God! And remember Who offers it up for those who offer to suffer: Jesus suffers for the victim souls!