"Soul and Body, Clarence Day?" Maternal prayers in epithets.

"May your soul not be disconnected from your body, as your clothes are unseeming upon your body."

In the movie Life With Father, I was enamored at the historical example of mothering expertise, delivered to us, through the good acting of Irene Dunne, when she doted on the souls of the boys in her care. That quote was from a scene where the doting and loving Christian mother noticed that her child was wearing clothes where the seams were coming undone.

How sad that generation gaps have taken us far from the interjections that can be the prayers that set the road for the generations before us. Much to replace the natural inclinations of the curses that donn our lips, through the fallenness of our race. The study of motherhood can lend us the words of love that God has preserved in our hidden humble characters around us. Motherhood desires the best for her child. Christian motherhood desires the best spiritual good for her offspring. Keep your soul in mind in the decisions of your life, my son, was the directive of the wise and Christian mother. The son let his pen note that, perhaps, the only reason that the entire household made it to glory, was because their mother was diligent to do battle with the world, the flesh and the devil, in their home. Perhaps the home is the only true sewing machine to seem soul with body. Either way, may God make us able seamstresses of soul and body.

Why do we make love...Stay?{ from 4/20/10}

Students of the love impulse,

Marital love?
Maternal Love,
Parental love,
paternal love,
brotherly love,.

Dan Fogleberg— seems to say, I wish that love were, like my dog, that I could say "Stay!" and she would stay. The only thing that we have dominion over, after the curse, would be the dominion over the regulation of human love. Maternal love is a constant.? We don’t have to say to ourselves love your children. How we love them is the question. Listening? Talking? Instructing? Directing?
Wifing love equals submission and respect, but it also must involve reciprocation of such. "Like a dog", in a sense we say: "Stay right there, love, whatever happens. You stay!" {as though it were outside of ourselves?} It may or may not listen, depending on a lot of factors. ie. Loyalty, is probably the best concept to inject into your children with oneanother— early, before they learn disloyalty.

in the heavenly realms: The angels’ job is to study and defend the holiness of God. A little lower, we study and defend the goodness of God and have dominion over the relationships on earth, in family and government and church. Christ’s defense is for His church: against the gates of hell{forces of antichrist evident in the earthly realms}. Families bound together under a covenant of unity and peace. "I will not wage war against you.", is usually part of the family understanding. I will say to Peace, you stay!

Dominion over Love, dominion over peace and dominion over unity, You STAY.—why do we run so from the concept of having dominion.

Don't Sleep in the Subway, Darling.

Upon planting my "Dusty Miller" and "Violas" at my mailbox. I remember Dusty Springfield and Sister Loyola a dear old Sister from my early fond remembrances. It has been sometime that I have said to myself, I will plant something nice and choice around my mailbox. Life happens and here we are 5 years later and no closer to civilizing this "vast wilderness" LOL than we were when we got here. I had grandiose dreams of "Sweet William" and Clover wafting over my "viranda". Each early attempt was met with design critiques and major marital distemper, and so I gave up, for a time. Here I am, unemployed and longing for flowers and fauna, to the tune of deacon Wests yard and I gird myself for the battle, when the master of the house sees the creative genius that reminds me of subways and Dusty Springfield and Sister Viola, I mean Loyola. Maybe it is a Rock and Roll garden, he is opposed to, whatever. "Nothing beats a failure, but a try."

A Piney Day!

Brentwood in the Pines, Is mighty fine

A group of Highschool prayer group girls singing the joys of reaching out to God, by travelling to the piney woods of Brentwood, in the early 1970's are the echoing memories that are playing this morning. The sunny faces of the optimistic PG, that our prayers could closer reach the throne of God, should we travel to the wooded convent of Long Island. Everyone knew that you had to yell to reach God's ears from Brooklyn, or the other boros. So, we travelled. Our delighted faces to see real and skinny, tall pine trees, made us giddy and we sang. I am grateful to know that God knew our hearts. Our giddy, sophomoric songs of reaching out to God and seeing His glory in the pines was infantile, but happy. They are good memories of growing in grace and in the knowledge of God and using outstretched arms and hands to learn of Him.
Thank you, God, for those good memories.
God bless the archives of PG.

Scarf day, minus the tickles...

The joys of having gone to an all girl's highschool, is the lesson on how to talk to your daughters about why they are wearing a scarf. Of course, I wasn't one of the popular girls who had a scarf or reason to wear one. What is the big deal that you must wear a scarf on a school day? In our school, it would have been considered out of uniform, so Sister "So and So" would have asked an explanation of such a flagrant disregard for uniformity. "Moy Fawda toll me oy kuuud?" would have been one of the excuses to Sista.
This morning, I was "Sista So and So"---
"ZZZup wit da tassles, homegirl?" I asked, ever so cautiously. One must be careful not to disturb the ego of the budding pubescence. "NOT!"
Mother, need you ask me what my choices of style change are, was the paraphrase of the answer. {I haven't learned to write in cyberenglish, yet} They really don't use words, they just look at you. I can't smack her everytime she looks at me, so, I attempted again to ellicit some sort of explanation for the fluff, in tow.
My stories of odd Catholic School girls, who covered hickeys with those fluff items, didn't dissuade, her. So she won the debate, this time.

Don't let Euphoria die!

Oh me, Oh my, don't let my euphoria die. I bought her. My thumbs are not green, yet, but, I don't want to see her die. I put her in pots and I imagined a beautiful sight out of my front door, with a mix of euphoria and heather. The watering process eroded the soil from the pots and her roots are exposed. I did some little bit to heal her root system. I must do more, if I would see her live again. I have a hands off method of gardening, which certainly hasn't gotten me much in the way of returns. I imagine sitting with my aunt Lorraine and making mud pies in the earth and it is hard for me to concentrate on the love of the plants that I imagine growing and blooming under my care. I love them when I see them in the store and I imagine that I will care. Laundry always seems to get the better hand, and even that is a mess today. I do hope euphoria survives.

At what cost, light?

The light of truth, versus the light of beauty; keep the candle burning? Which shall I light? The light of beauty, calls and attracts moths and other insects...The light of truth attracts souls and live beings. Open unto us, we pray to the bridegroom of our souls. Let us know more of our Savior. Which light have you oiled, it is dark in your soul, if the only light is the light of beauty, spent upon our own attractions. Help us Lord to be the wise women and adorn our souls with the light of truth and not just the light of beauty.