Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
Phil 4:6-7



Wednesday, June 18, 2014

A Smelly Blog and a Good Story...



...so grab a cup of coffee, or fetch your glass of iced tea.


I have been using my deodorant, so I can only imagine your lack of participation (ahem), here is because the reading material stinks. Maybe you're all very busy doing what summer requires of you, but I see by my feed stats that you are most definitely stopping in to visit, you just don't feel like talking. And that's ok. Maybe you just don't have anything to say about that last post. It's very possible my life just flat out bores you. It flat out bores me a lot. Also, I have been there -- just not much to say and so I leave and don't say anything.

The funny thing is, this morning, after two days of waiting for you to stop by and say something (thanks, Patty!), I got a request in my inbox to complete a survey on why I blog. A girl from Poland doing a research paper contacted me. Did she contact you, too? It was harmless information she wanted, and I feel empathy for people who have to reach out to strangers and ask for help, so I completed it. Really, she just wanted to know why I blog. Many people apparently blog for money, but clearly I would be homeless if I did that. By her questions and my answers, I remembered why I blog -- to make new friends and to share common interests.

So if you are one of those people who show up in my feed stats, stopping by every day or so, but you never say "hi," please do. I'd love to know who you are. I feel like you are popping into to my kitchen, and I'm waiting to chat with you.



And on that note, today I am going to share a story. It's one I have told few people, but when I do, it gives me a great feeling to see how they react. Most people are at first, disbelieving, and then filled with great hope.

Interested?

This is, in many ways, an extraordinarily sad story. There is just no getting around telling it without telling the sad part. But it is, in the end, really a glorious story. Because if you believe in God, if you believe in heaven, if you believe in miracles, it is not sad at all.

On the Thursday after Easter, in the year 1982, my father died. He quietly died of a heart attack, sitting in his favorite recliner in the family room, taking a short nap in the evening after dinner, while my mother quietly ironed in the kitchen, just 20 feet away. My father was 42 years old. I was 19 years old, and away at college. Two of my brothers were upstairs in their rooms, and the other was working.

My mother heard my father start to wake up from his short nap (she heard him push the foot part of the recliner chair down), but then she heard nothing else. When she checked on him a while later, he was gone, or mostly gone. She called an ambulance and she called my brothers from upstairs. My brothers, both in high school, started CPR (something which I believe earned them a special place in heaven).

We'll never know if my father was still alive, if my brothers kept him alive at all, or if he was gone. The ambulance arrived, and our neighbors came over, and the medics tried to help him for a brief time. Likely they saw what the situation was in reality and loaded my father on a stretcher and took him to the hospital where he was pronounced DOA.

Sad story. I know (and here I was just thinking I was being boring and now I am flat out being sad).

But while the ambulance was in the drive with its lights flashing red streaks in the dark night, a man walked across the lawn and through the open front door and asked if he could help. He wore a black shirt, black pants and a white collar. He was a Catholic priest.

My mother told the priest that we were Catholic, what had happened, and he went to my father, bent over him while the medics worked, and gave my father Last Rites. My father was unconscious, there was no Confession, no Holy Eucharist, just (extra) ordinary Last Rites.

The Code of Canon Law (1005) says, "This sacrament (Anointing of the Sick) is to be administered in a case of doubt whether the sick person has attained the use of reason, is dangerously ill, or is dead."

A month or so ago Faith and I read in her religion book (Seton's Religion 6 for Young Catholics):
"If a person dies suddenly, a priest should be called because the priest is allowed to give absolution and to give the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick. This means that even though a person has died, since no one is sure when the soul leaves the body, the soul may still be present and he would receive the benefits of the Sacrament."

When a loved one dies, a Catholic's greatest concern is whether or not that person's soul will go to heaven (at least most Catholics I know). We often don't have Anointing before death. How many people die suddenly, in car accidents, of unknown medical conditions, of heart attacks? What a great joy to know that even after death, we still have the chance for salvation!

The miraculous part of this story is that after the priest administered Last Rites, he left. He walked out the door and disappeared. My mother said there was no car anywhere in sight. And in the commotion of the medics taking my father out and the ambulance leaving, she lost track of where the priest went. She asked our neighbors if they knew him, but no one did. I'm sure, in reality the story is not as mysterious as it sounds, we just don't know the whole truth. But in appearance, a man of God came out of no where, granted my father the chance of eternal salvation, and then disappeared.

Whoever he is, he has my eternal gratitude, and I pray, a most wonderful place in heaven.







36 comments:

  1. I love stories like that; thanks for sharing it. When I was in college trying to decide my major, I prayed the St. Therese of the Little Flower novena to find out if I should major in Accounting. On the last night of the novena, I was on a date with my boyfriend walking around a trendy part of town. Out of nowhere in the crowd, a man walked up to me, handed me a rose and then walked past me. He said that the rose was for me and didn't ask for money or anything like that. I knew right there I was supposed to major in Accounting and that an angel relayed the message. I did major in Accounting and as a result met my husband. Didn't stay an accountant, but I know I wouldn't have met my hubby had I not done my summer internship. So interesting watching God in action. Enjoy your day, Beth

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    1. Thanks, Beth. It is so wonderful to SEE God's hand.

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  2. That IS a beautiful story!! Thanks for sharing it!

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    1. You're welcome, Anne. Thanks for taking the time to comment. :-)

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  3. Thank you for sharing so beautifully. I know the situation was a shock to all of you, especially with your father being so young. What a gift God gave to him and you through this priest.

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    1. It was a beautiful gift, Nancy. An eternal gift -- the wonderful power of a priest's hands. And it really has only been as an adult that I have seen what a gift it was. As a young adult it was mysterious, now it is miraculous.

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  4. I read your blog but have never commented. What an awesome story! I am a Catholic homeschooling mom of three (13,9,6). I am not a blogger so I usually don't comment. I found your blog through catholic cuisine.

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    1. Thanks for taking the time to say "hi", Jana. I really do appreciate it.

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  5. Beautiful story of faith & hope! Thank you so much for sharing it with us, Barbara!

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    1. You are welcome, Sarah. Thanks for always stopping by. :-)

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  6. That does have a most beautiful ending, Barbara. So interesting that you posted about this and the paragraph from Faith's religion book. We were talking about just this thing last night when my kids inquired about it. Thank you for posting it so I can share it with them. I often play out in my head which priest I'd call, how fast he could get here, etc. IF the need arose. In my family's mind, calling the priest is always one of the very first things we think of when tragedy strikes. Thankfully, we are blessed by a treasure of faithful priests whom we also call 'friend' who show up to tend to our family spiritual needs.

    Just so you know, I do read here. I do see your posts show up in my Bloglovin feed. Summertime is busy time and computer time is so sporadic. After all the inside time this winter, we are spending what time we can outdoors. Even if I don't comment because my hands are full, I'm checking in. Just wanted you to know. :)

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    1. I know summer is so busy, and I imagine scheduling all those outdoor activities during the summer months is rather hectic (I am almost finished with those days). Thanks for taking the time to say "hello," Sarah.

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  7. You learn something every day! I'm ashamed to admit it, but I didn't know about administering last rites after death; thought the person needed to be alive, if that means unconscience. Thank you for sharing that!!! I need to relay the story to my family at dinner this evening.

    And what a story! So powerful, sad, hope-filled, all at the same time.

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    1. I'm so glad you know now, Patty. Our faith...a place of endless learning.

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  8. well, good grief...now I HAVE to comment!!!

    i am a pop in, stop by quickly, kind of blog reader...too busy to even make my "i" capital....and i rarely comment anywhere, and i think because i don't allow comments on my own blog, i forget that other bloggers actually LIKE comments and conversation...

    and your story is beautiful.

    and you don't smell.

    but i do, so i am off to shower....

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    1. Thanks for taking a minute to comment, Stinky. ;-)

      And I understand why you don't have comments turned on. I know you like to have conversations, just not on ALL topics.

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  9. Thank you for sharing something so personal. I check you almost every day because I too am looking for communion with like-minded women, but I often think I have nothing new to say.

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    1. Just "hi" is nice. But, I know exactly what you mean. Sometimes it just requires too much energy.

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  10. Your blogging doesn't smell! I wanted to comment on the post about dance, but twice was prevented by 'my life's and just gave up. By the way, your daughter is a beautiful dancer...I look at feet and hands because I was a dancer myself...hers are grace-filled.

    Love the story about your dad. I will file that useful information and share with my kids your message about last rites.

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    1. Haha! I figured it must be smelly because everyone was staying so far away! But, I know summer is busy.

      Thank you for commenting on Faith's dance style. I do feel she naturally "gets it" but she is not big on "working at it." ;-)

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  11. Beautiful post Barbara. I had a similar experience when Ben was small, I think I wrote about on his blog.

    http://reosti.blogspot.de/2010/02/to-ben-on-your-10th-birthday.html

    Also, our priest did come to the hospital and give Ben Last Rites. He had me take Communion for him. Having our priest there brought such comfort to my grieving heart.

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    1. That was a beautiful story on your blog. I do feel "our priest" had many qualities of an angel among us. It gives me great hope.

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  12. That's an amazing story. It's so beautiful the way God works, and we can (sometimes) choose to see the gift or overlook it entirely. I'm sure that gives you great peace; you're right, not everyone receives the grace of Last Rites.

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    1. You are right, Sara, about choosing to see miracles. Some people, those who don't care as much about having Last Rites, wouldn't have given it a second thought, being so caught up in what was happening.

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  13. Let's see if this works!
    I'm here!! Just finally getting caught up!! What an amazing story of your dear Dad. It is sad. But what a miracle he was given last rites like that. Really amazing!
    I have also been pondering lately why I blog. There are so many popular ones out there now contributing so many great things...it is kind of discouraging. I remember I started to blog to record our days. So, I'll keep on keepin' on.

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    1. Yay Kristen! Sometimes blogger does make commenting so much more difficult than it should be. I should do some investigating into that issue.

      Ya know, I never wanted to be a popular girl. That's far too stressful. When I was young the popular girls intimidated me, and I feel the same way now as a 51 (a week from 52) year old. I don't even read those blogs. I much prefer girls like you!

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  14. WOW! That's an amazing story! I'll bet it happens more often than you'd think, too...but what a comfort it must have been to your family to have that priest JUST SHOW UP right when he was most needed.
    I'm sorry for my lack of "participation." I have just been slammed this week.

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    1. Barb -- I know. It's one thing to call a priest and have him come in time of need. But to JUST SHOW UP? Miraculous.

      And please don't apologize. I feel guilty now. ;-)

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  15. Beautiful, so bittersweet, but so much of life is that, yes? Thanks for sharing!

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    1. It is, Diana. Showers with sunshine, tears and laughter, death and miracles...

      Thanks for taking a minute to comment.

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  16. Your blog is not stinky. I haven't turned my computer on in almost two weeks. My cow has been at death's door, at that sure took a lot of energy. (She's much better now!) My husband just had minor surgery, which was a major event for me, with a long pre-op outing and then something like twelve hours in the car or hospital with an infant yesterday. (He's fine. Arthritis in his toe.) And my second daughter has been preparing to go to 4H summer camp as a teen leader, which has required extra doctor appointments and training sessions. (We are going to miss her so much! We weren't made to be apart, this family.) I've been reading on my ipod, but can't comment from there. Usually, I leave posts "unread" so I can comment later, but I've just been cleaning my reader out. Too much else going on.

    But you are loved! Always loved. And the story about your dad is beautiful.

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    1. Oh, Jennie. I know you have been far too busy to breathe, much less read blogs. Just the cow would have buried me!

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  17. God works in the most wonderful ways! I just stumbled upon your blog while googling "feast of Corpus Christi activities for children". It came up with one of your blog posts from 2008. Reading through some of your posts I see we have a lot in common, so I hope to read here more often (don't count on me though, I'm a highly unreliable blogger!)
    God bless
    Kelly

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    1. Thanks for taking the time to comment, Kelly. It's so nice to have a new friend...and from so far away!

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  18. Oh, this is indeed a most sad but very beautiful story! Such tragedy, touched by so much grace. What an incredible blessing, to have that priest sent right when your family needed him. Deo Gratias!
    I do pray every day that Our Lord will spare each of us from a sudden unprovided death. Your story is such a comforting, beautiful example of how God does indeed provide. Thank you for sharing it.

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I appreciate your comments -- sometimes I feel like I'm talking to myself!