Responsibility

When I put my wristwatch on each morning is when I start a-tickin'.
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Thank you, God, for a good night's sleep
That washes out the anger of the day
Soothes frustration, heals the hurt
And sweeps the pain of yesterday away
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So much is on my back
The world is out of whack
Why is it always up to me
To get it back on track?
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So much depends on me and always has.
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Forced religion is false religion.

Morning Prayer

I close my eyes and then I pray
How can I, in my meager way,
Set the world to rights today?
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Fiorella is all abour relationships. Her art involves relationships between spaces and colors. Her music composition involves relationships between pitches and time. Her languages craze involves relationships between words and cultures, and her books involve relationships between people and people.

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The rule of three
Is calling me
But I have naught else to say
Today

Ganging Up On God

Fiorella, a frequent Facebook contributor, winces every time she encounters an intensive, often gaudy, post asking people to pray for themselves or for others. She will, of course, ask for blessings on everyone who is having difficulties of any kind, but as you know, because of her Missouri Synod Lutheran upbringing, she does it privately, in her closet, not making a public display, "as the Pharisees do." Fio also cringes at prayer requests that imply God responds to popular demand, that the more people that are asking Him to perform a miracle, the better the chances. Fiorella can let both of these viewpoint pass--only God knows God--but she'll nail her own 99 Theses to the church door disputing the idea that God can be controlled by "holy ones"--priests, pastors, saints, etc.--that if the right person prays for a miracle long and hard enough, God will give in and grant it.

That "pastor" who thought he could cure his granddaughter through intensive prayer was operating out of his own ego. It was a power struggle. His granddaughter died because he tried to control God rather than laud His mercy for providing a medical treatment that could have saved his granddaughter's life. Fio prays for him, that he will seek God's love and forgiveness, as must we all.

Traveling

Hooray, hooray! Hip, hip hooray!
Son and wife arrive today
To visit us and also meet
Their two-month niece, our Baby sweet.
God keep them safe along the way
And bless us all, I humbly pray

In the Trenches

Fiorella connected with an old friend yesterday. Ellen lives in Ohio now, ironically the state Fio was born in and always wanted to return to, but although ended up staying in Texas, she and Fio have stayed in communication. They talked about their children, their own health, and the political scene, on which they've both been active. Neither of them were able to join a march, but Ellen has been campaigning in person while Fio has been engaged through Facebook. God grant their efforts and the efforts of all good people with prevail.

Armed for Christmas

WARNING: This is not Fiorella's usual joyful Christmas message because she is deeply concerned about the state of the world, her country, and her family. Her children are going through perilous passages in their lives, her country has turned itself over to an out-and-out crook, and her world is being rampaged by madmen who use religion as an excuse to kill and destroy. Ignorance is celebrated. Corruption is the name of the game. Hate and anger ride the air waves.

Where are laughter and fellowship? Where are goodness, mercy, honesty, and compassion? Where is love? Fio can only pray that God will prevail, and she hopes you will also.

Love Trumps Hate

Fio thinks Donald Trump is rude, crude, ignorant, arrogant, egotistical, and mentally unstable, but she doesn't "hate" him. Instead, she prays for his enlightenment. If you are a supporter of Mr. Trump, please do not talk about "hating" Mrs. Clinton. Instead, pray for her enlightenment.

Love and Duty

I lower the blinds at night and raise them in the morning.  I close doors, drawers, and toilet lids. I know all the kids' phone numbers by heart, and I observe all birthdays.  I pay the bills, deal with IRS, and take care of the bank accounts.  I strike up relationships with the neighbors and wave at every vehicle that goes down our country road.  I give generous tips in all circumstances.  I pray for everyone--everyone--every day.

I am a woman, a wife, a mother.  I can do no other.

Moving Forward

Yesterday's political news had Fiorella so depressed that she couldn't write.  Nothing to do but go to bed early and pray for strength.  About an hour later, she turned on her bedside light, constructed a day-by-day outline of her novella and wrote out the hero's timeline.

Thank you.
Amen.

Lord's Prayer

When Fiorella lived at home, her mother prayed with her every night before she went to sleep--a simple four-line prayer when she was little, and the Lord's Prayer when she was old enough for it.

Fiorella still recites the Lord's Prayer when she goes to bed each night, but her understanding of it has matured. She interprets the initial--"Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven"--as an appreciation of all God's mercies and blessings.  And always she adds "strength" to the petition for sustenance. She now understands that "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us" applies to bearing grudges--which hurt us more than those who have wronged us. "Lead us not into temptation" is self-evident, despite its tangled construct.

But the major revelation Fiorella has had as she's gotten older is that the "we" of the prayer is not just a poetic way of saying "I."  It means what it says: we, all of us, even the worst of us. So every night, before she goes to sleep, Fiorella prays for everyone in the world.

As she does for you.  As she hopes you do for her.

Rain

When Fiorella was a little girl in Ohio, she would stand on the back porch with her nose pressed against the screen and chant "Rain, rain, go away.  Come again some other day."  And right now, even in drought-stricken Central Texas, part of her is thinking the same thing.

But the other part of her is saying "Thank you for the rain, God.  Keep everyone safe, but please fill our lakes because the long, hot summer is to come."

Amen.

Fiorella's Christmas Sonnet, 2014

Thank you, God, for friends and family,

For yesterday, today, tomorrow too,

For life and love and laughter, I thank Thee,

For all things wonderful, beautiful, new, and true,

For talents and skills, for opportunity,

For the existence of this country and this world,

For healing--body, mind, and memory,

For material goods, for inner strength unfurled,

For music, art, pen and poetry,

For science, which demonstrates your wonders made,

For your protection, comfort, generosity,

For your forgiveness when we’ve often strayed,

For all that is, that was, that makes us whole,

For Christ, eternal Christmas of the soul.

Prayer of the Newly Published

Give me the strength, O God,
Not to read another review
Not to tie myself in knots
For what I didn't think to do
Or even what I did.

Good Friday

For friends and family
For love and laughter
For talents and skills
For hope and opportunity
For all things beautiful and interesting and exciting and new and true
For material goods, fortitude, and endurance
For life, safety, and health
For yesterday, today, and tomorrow

For the existence of this country, of this world

For your comfort, love, mercy, forgiveness, and promise of eternal life through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, which we commemorate today

I thank Thee, Lord

Prayer

Let's talk about prayer, the invocation of a deity. Attempting to contact higher powers is the basis of religion, often accompanied by sacrifices--goods, animals, beautiful maidens--to get God's attention, sort of a quid pro quo arrangement. Another method of stacking the deck is asking others to pray--friends, family, a nation--with the hope that God is influenced by numbers.  Often a prominent religious figure--a rabbi, a priest, a dead saint--is asked to pray for certain causes--as if God is more inclined to listen to his/her entreaties.  

But, as we all have learned, celestial blessings are not as automatic as an ATM machine.  Besides, Fio has always wondered--God being all-knowing, doesn't He know what people need without them having to tell Him?

Nevertheless Fio still prays--constantly.

Turn the Page

Fio has had an overwhelming month--Friend Nicole's death, her own hip problem, Younger Son's birthday, preparing for Christmas, designing and mailing cards, Daughter's wedding, Older Son's pneumonia--so it was not surprising that losing her purse, a big Christmas gift, and another, smaller, one had her down and out last night. After all she still had half the house to decorate and it was just four days till Christmas.

Then, before bed, she had a talk with Son, who was totally depressed about his job situation--he has none. Fiorella couldn't sleep. Instead she prayed and prayed and prayed. Begged and prayed, cried and prayed. Finally she got up to go downstairs. On the way down, she lifted a piece of paper from her art desk to reveal three family history books she's been looking for since forever. All she'd had to do the whole time was lift one piece of paper to find them.

If that was all it took, maybe she COULD find the missing Christmas gifts, maybe she COULD find her purse, maybe she COULD get everything done before Christmas. Maybe Son COULD find a job.

If we'd just turn the page.

Morning Prayer

For the new day, I thank you
For the good night, I thank you
For boundless hope and endless memory
For what once was and what is yet to be
Thank you, God.


(Obviously, Fio's feeling better.)

Geographical Solution

Eat, Pay, Love--as if stick-thin Julia Roberts has ever eaten a decent meal in her entire life.

Aside from the irony, the movie follows a trend of dramatizing the angst of single almost-middle-aged women. Think Under the Tuscan Sun, think that Meryl Streep loser in which she galloped around like a circus horse at the head of a whole herd of equally clomping Italian women. In romance literature, think of Susan Elizabeth Phillip's Breathing Room.

Not to say that almost-middle-aged women don't have angst, but most of them also have a brood of children in tow and lack the means to pay for a trip out of town, much less to Italy, where all wonderful things seem to happen.

Fiorella's Interpretation

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name: thank you for yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven: strengthen us to accept and move forward.

Give us this day our daily bread: provide us the sustenance we need.

And forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us: as You offer forgiveness to us, let us forgive each other and live in peace.

Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil: strengthen us to resist the evil within us and protect us from the evil outside of us.

For Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever, amen.