La Grippe of Fear

What are your fears? Really...what scares you? I know as believers we are to trust Jesus without reserve. But do we really? As for me, I know I don't. I'm full of all sorts of phobias and anxieties. Most of them are irrational, and all of them are for whatever reason deep set in me. I hate them. I wish I could just rip them out. But they are there. Why? Only God knows.

One thing I fear is my memory, which I've mentioned on here in previous posts. I also fear people, physical attacks, not being liked, bugs, various animals and other creatures, getting in lakes, oceans, and so on, and the list goes on and on. My current biggest fears involve what would happen if my wife and/ or daughter faced danger. I just don't know what I would do. I'm absolutely paralyzed by fear of any pain or death. People tell me I'd do the right thing, but I cannot honestly say I know that. My fear and selfishness run deeper than deep. I know this is by no means a good thing, but I also know myself too well, and how weak I am.

It's also impossible to ignore all the evils I see in this world, and think I will escape facing all these fears one day. Many don't believe much is coming. To them I say: You may be right, but pray to be prepared no matter what. I must say this to myself over and over. Because out of all my fears, I pray I fear being separated from God and going to hell the most.

We're going into the year 2013. Only god knows what's coming. And only He can heal us and replace our fears. I know this very well in my head. It's my heart that needs to catch up.

"Deliver us, Lord, we pray, from every evil, graciously grant peace in our days, that, by the help of your mercy, we may be always free from sin and safe from all distress, as we await the blessed hope and the coming of our Saviour, Jesus Christ.^"

Prodigal (All Rights Reverved Paul Israel Forsyth 2012)

Prodigal daughter/ Prodigal son/ You can keep tryin to hide/ You can keep tryin to run/ You can never get far enough away to escape My love

I am here waiting/ Waiting for you/ With my arms wide open regardless of all the hell you put yourself through/ Unabatingly I long to lavish you with robe and feast.

For every harlot on which you've wasted your coin/ That led to starvation and your desire to be one with the swine/ You've forgotten who your are/ Your dignity/ Your inheritance

Prodigal daughter/ Prodigal son/ You can keep tryin to hide/ You can keep tryin to run/ You can never get far enough away to escape My love

You can't see clearly now/ One day I'll lift the cloud/ And you'll know as you're known
You can't see clearly now/ One day I'll lift the cloud/ And you'll know as you're known

Prodigal Siblings

Spending money or resources freely and recklessly; wastefully extravagant. A person who spends money in a recklessly extravagant way. This is what "prodigal" means. This makes a lot more sense to me now that I finally looked it up. When we choose to ignore the graces set before us, we throw them away recklessly. I did it. I do it still. We all do. But there comes a time when hopefully we realize we can get back up and be made whole again, and again, and again. That time came for me on December 8, 2008. I had left the Faith for 2 1/2 years.  I had decided I was gonna do whatever I wanted to, and that it wasn't wrong anymore. Have premarital sex with no conscience...even demanding it from my then girlfriend (among many other horrible manifestations)? Check. Curse like a sailor, and even take God's Name? Check. Accept homosexual lifestyle and marriage? Check. The list goes on, and it was what I had come to embrace.  Keep in mind this is well after my addiction to massage parlors and similar situations entrenched itself firmly in my life. It showed up again in the relationship I was then in as well. I had forgotten who I was, and how to be even a shadow of that guy. I was lost. I was wastefully, recklessly extravagant. To this day, in many ways I still am. Damn that concupiscence of the flesh and fallen nature of man! But the best part is...as bad as I still am...I now have recourse in my circumstances. How did I get back? You may or may not agree with this, but I testify to its being 100% true: The Blessed Mother Mary. I asked her numerous times through those 2 1/2 years of hell not to give up on me...to please keep praying for me. If God saw fit to choose her as His own Son's Mother, then she was mine too...and who am I not to turn to her like He did? Best. Decision. Ever. She brought me back on the day we celebrate her being conceived without any stain of sin...the Immaculate Conception. Thanks to her intercession, I was freed from a mutually abusive relationship that week, was led back to Ave Maria Singles less than a month later, and right after joining was contacted by some girl named Theresa Hardy. O yeah, she's now my wife, and mother of our amazing 1 year old daughter. Months later, my band Paging Samuel was founded, and soon after my former girlfriend and I made peace with one another. Since then, Theresa and I consecrated ourselves together to Jesus through Mary. I recommend this practice wholeheartedly. For more info, please find the book "True Devotion to Jesus through Mary" by St. Lois Marie de Montfort. How old was I? 33. Same as Jesus when He died, rose, and ascended to Heaven. And I KNEW it was going to be a life defining year for me even while I was lost. Like I said, I'm still lost in so many ways. But now I have Confession again, Mass where I get to receive Jesus, and a wife and daughter who constantly challenge me to grow...or at least keep trying to.  That brings me to another person who is 33 until next month, and her different, yet no less beautiful situation. I grew up with her, fought like mad with her, joked, with her, played games with her, you name it. She's been through her own (deeper than mine in my opinion) version of hell. She's my little sister. She had been away from the Faith for a while herself. The road back is a difficult one. Some never return. But she did have 2 things going for her: 1) Prayers of loved ones, and 2) The foundation of God that was still in her.  I received the best phone call ever Sunday on my lunch break. I answered, and she said: "I'm found. I was lost, and I've been found." My heart overflowed with joy and gratitude! It takes great love and courage to humble yourself and return...to admit you were wrong for so long. But she did. She told me of her tears of joy after receiving the 2 great Sacraments of Confession and Communion. Would that we always all kept that joy and love burning! But the road is long, and we grow weary.  Coming back to our waiting Father is one great step in the right direction. The Prodigal Siblings have come home!

 

Two Years to the Day (All rights reserved Paul Israel Forsyth 2012)

Two years to the day we started our way on the road of I do I do for you
Yeah we've taken our shots argued a lot more than anyone anyone should
I've critcized you no end as if your weren't my best friend the woman the woman I love
You've grown frustrated I see with my tendencies and you have tried to tried to change me

Love is a choice it's not a feelin
It was never meant to be easy
It's about findin someone worth fightin for and stickin with
Well baby you're stuck with me
Baby Your stuck with me

Two years and romance I've lost a step in that dance and I wonder where it where it has gone
You know that is used to be something that came naturally to me I guess I have to have to re-learn
We've sat and wasted our time let life walk on by while we should have should have progressed on so many fronts
You jump the gun and take aim put me on defensive play and you know I have I have tried change you too

Underneath it all we know it's not so true
Our imperfections are not what make us who we  are or the marriage of our hearts

Love is a choice it's not a feelin
It was never meant to be easy
It's about findin someone worth fightin for and stickin with
Well baby I'm stuck with you
Baby I'm stuck with you

Underneath it all we know it's not so true
Our imperfections are not what make us who we are or the marriage of our hearts the marriage of our hearts

 Love is a choice it's not a feelin
It was never meant to be easy
It's about findin someone worth fightin for and stickin with
Love is a choice it's not a feelin
It was never meant to be easy
It's about findin someone worth fightin for and stickin with
Well baby you're stuck with me
And baby I'm stuck with you
Baby you're stuck with me
And baby I'm stuck with you
Baby I'm stuck with you

Haseltine Strikes a Chord

I've been captivated by Dan Haseltine's blog www.danhaseltine.com this week.  If you don't know who Dan Haseltine is...he's the frontman for my all-time favorite band Jars of Clay www.jarsofclay.com .  I'm intrigued by Jars' new direction...which is essentially their original direction.  I'm also intrigued by his different views on things...even if I disagree with a few of them.   But what I've been liking a lot is when Dan re-visits a song he wrote, and puts a personal story to it.   I thought I'd try my hand at that myself.  So here's entry number 1.

I think I'll start with a Paging Samuel song called Marble Heart (I Need You ).  Our original lead guitarist Vinny Blanche came up with the riff for this song.  Vinny was always coming up with something new...and he was full of life.  He loves Dave Matthews Band, and pretty much has a funky acoustic Jack Johnson vibe.  So it was a regular thing for him to come in with some fun, new guitar part to work off of. 

But what to write?  Lyrics are always my thing.  Not sure if it's mostly because I may be good at it, if I'm just a control freak...or maybe a little of both.  Well...one thing's for sure. I'm really great at wanting to want to follow God.  I certainly talk the talk.  But walking the walk?  I trip up constantly.  I'm beyond lazy spiritually and otherwise.  So I try...but not really.  I know I need Jesus to pick me up and teach me...but  equally...if not more...don't take the time to get to get to know Him.

Now, the original version was simply called "I Need You."  Verse 2 said: "The time the time the time is near.  My spirit can see it.  It's not time not time to live in fear, but turn from our sin be watchful and ready.  I wrote this based on my observations of the world we currently occupy.  Too much is happening.  So many things I consider "signs of the times" are taking place.  No, I'm no expert...and I could always be wrong.  But really...even if I am wrong...do people (myself included) realize how important these times are regardless?  So much is at stake.

I changed it to its current lyrical content because my focus changed.  Songs don't always stay the same...sometimes even after years.  They are living, organic, wonderful (not cardboard) creatures.  In this case, it was only a year or two.  Thing is, we cry.  We cry out loud.  We cry in silence.  We cry in our innermost depths...at times not even sensing or recognizing our own pain.  Our souls cry out to God, even as the rest of who we are wrestles with that same God. We can become numb.  But we must strive.  We must try...and try...and try.  No matter what it takes...we must try.  We may have to to try to walk with broken legs, feet, or both.  And we can't do it on our own.  We need a strength we'll never find in ourselves.

I may have already shared this with you...but I have a severely poor prayer life.  I mean, I know I should pray...and I do here and there.  But overall?  Yup...I suck at it.  So my music is one way I really get to dive into praying.  And this song is a prayer to be made whole...into who I've been created to be.  Hopefully, it's that for the listener as well.  That being said, songs are also quite good at being exactly what one person needs to hear...and exactly something different yet, just as necessary to another.  Art is funny and amazing that way.  I'd be interested to hear (or read) your thoughts on this song, and what it's words may mean to you.  I'll end simply by sharing the lyrics.

I try I try I try so hard without really trying
I try I try I fall apart...consistently inconsistent
Take me off of my broken feet, Oh Love of mine
Take me off of my broken legs
Teach me how to walk with Yours

Hold onto me
Make me the man You made me to be
I need You I need You I need You You know I do
I need You I need You I need You You know I do

I cry I cry with a marble heart...no tears are flowing
I cry I cry I cry impart strength to do right to be watchful and ready
Take me off of my broken feet, Oh Love of mine
Take me off of my broken legs
Teach me how to walk with Yours

Hold onto me
Make me the man You made me to be
I need You I need You I need You You know I do
I need You I need You I need You You know I do
I need You I need You I need You You know I do
I need You I need You I need You You know I do

Hold onto me
Make me the man You made me to be
I need You I need You I need You You know I do
I need You I need You I need You You know I do
I need You I need You I need You You know I do
I need You I need You I need You You know I do

Late Night Insomnitations

So here I am...awake at 3:35 in the morning.  Yes...wide awake.  I have a ton going through my mind, my heart, my soul...

God is calling me...always calling me.  And I waste time, waste time, and waste time.  Nothing that should get done gets done.  Yet here I am on the internet in the middle of the night.  But oddly it's not wasted time tonight. 

Tonight I got all musician searchy.  I looked up tobyMac and dc Talk (for reasons I won't get into here).  I looked up Audio Adrenaline, Mark Stuart, and Know Hope Collective.  I looked up my old friend Jose, his former project Friday Mourning, his short-lived online project "Oh, Satellite..."   I looked up his former bandmate Jim Wockenfuss.  I looked up my buddy Jeff's project Forgotten Truth (which I'm listening to as I type this).  Yup...been busy.

So much has occurred to me in all this.  I hunger.  I thirst.   I need.  I place so much effort in so very little that matters.  I love my music.  I love my band.  But really...what will I do when that fades?  I've been blessed to have Paging Samuel in some form for three years now.  And never in my life has any music project fulfilled so much in me.  The men...the brothers...the artists surrounding me astound me.  They astound me as musicians...yes...absolutely.  More importantly they astound me as Christian gentlemen...each in his own way.

But how long will God allow me this outlet?  How long will  these brothers be able to commit to our common goal?  How long will I be able to write lyrics and melodies that matter to myself...but more so others?  Only God knows for sure.  But I'm so thankful for all He's allowed us to do to this point.  If it ended tomorrow...I'd be ever thankful.  But what would I do then?  I've put so much focus into this...where does my treasure lie?  Are my reasons where they should be?

How about I focus more on my wife and daughter...you know...my actual vocation?  How about I get more involved in my parish...and bloom where I've been planted?  How about getting back to the pro-life work of my younger days?  It's time to balance things.  Oh yes...I'll ride the band 'til it's run is over.  But things need to be set aright.

Know Hope Collective's story is quite interesting.  It made me think about my lofty aspirations for Paging Samuel...and the ministry we are really called to.  Ministry isn't some lofty puffed up show.  And if it is done even slightly well, it will minister not only to the "others"...but also to the one acting in ministry. It's so easy to want to make the music into something that fits in anywhere and everywhere...when it's Jesus Who should always be at the center.  And if we don't fit in...oh well.  We're not meant to.  Of course, the reasons must be pure.  So...God please take us as far as You want us to go!

Final thoughts:  There are so many incredible artists no one has ever heard of (except for a few.)  Some may not be to the "level" of many we've heard of...but they more than make up for it with heart, soul, passion, faith, and the Holy Spirit.  That alone makes me want to hear them more than those many others.  I so wish some of them were still making music for us to hear...and so thankful others still are.  Below this are links to people referenced here.  Read, listen, soak it in.  Until next time...peace and all good!


www.tobymac.com

 http://www.audioa.com/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Stuart_(musician)

http://knowhopecollective.com/

http://www.myspace.com/ohsatellite

http://www.myspace.com/jimwockenfussmusic

www.reverbnation.com/forgottentruth 

www.reverbnation.com/pagingsamuel 

Oh, Baby!

Hello!  It's been a week since my last post.  I'm once again not goin into music stories.  Rather, I'm goin to simply share what's been bringin me some major joy.  My baby girl is 5 days away from her 1st Birthday.  It feels like she's been with us for 50 years (yes...I'm almost 37), while feelin like a blink at the same time.

I have a LONG way to go before I even come close to bein a good Daddy...but I'm workin on it!  Anway, lately Gracie May and I have been playin in some new ways.  One I couldn't get her to do was get into a box my band's new speakers came in.  That will have to wait.  As for now, these other versions are awesome.

Last week or so, I was holdin her, and she went for my glasses (a no-no!).  I brushed her hands back a few times, and she started laughin.  I then wrapped her over and around my shoulders, and brought her back in front of me.  She loved it!  We alternated her playfully reachin for my glasses and my brushin her hands away...and wrappin her around my shoulders. 

A few nights ago, Gracie May started crawlin towards the power strip and dvd player.  I said: "Excuse me!"  She'd laugh, I'd pick her up and bring her back, and she would crack up!  As soon as I put her down, she got back up...and the cycle went on and on.  After while she got used to my grabbin her to bring her back.  So she would stop, look back at me like: "Come get me!.", and laugh or just smile at me.  She was so excited, and her joy was blatant (and contagious!)

She has now done this game with Theresa and at Mom Mom and Pop Pop's.  Be it toward a turned off space heater, books under a coffee table, or even an empty water bottle...she goes for it and starts the game anew.

I also recently introduced her to the joys of the paper towel tube.  I showed her how to use it like a drum and telescope.  I put it up to my eye, and brought it to hers at the same time.  I simply put it over her eye and let her look through it.  Her smile and laugh are the most amazing sight and sound I've ever experienced. 

The kicker, though was today at the dinner table.  I picked the tube up, and started blowing in it like a trumpet or even a shofar (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shofar).  Gracie May either laughs or screeches when she really gets happy and excited.  The second she heard me blow this "horn" she screeched and said "DaDaDaDada."  Of course, bein me I did it over and over and over and over.........'til Mommy said I gave her a headache.  Either way...it was some serious fun and seriously funny!  The older Gracie May gets, the more she enjoys her life...and the more Daddy does too.

We Now Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Blog

I know I was gona go into my musical background with you, but that's gona have to wait.  Tonight went a little bit off kilter for a short time.  Gracie May had gone to sleep earlier than she's been...which only meant it was too easy and she'd be up again soon enough.  She fell asleep in her rocker thing (technical term) in front of me while watchin tv.  She flopped forward as if someone shot her with a tranquilizer dart.  It was hilarious!  Since she had taken her baby Tylenol, we'd hoped that was it.  Like I said before...nope.

So Theresa went in, changed Gracie May's diaper, brought her back in, and got her back to sleep.  Now, we have younger neighbors across the hall from us, and above us on the third floor.  Most nights we hear them run quickly up or down the stairs loudly.  When the baby's asleep, I always look at Theresa and say: "I'm gona kill 'em."  I love watchin Theresa smile and laugh at it.  Tonight, I really did reach a point of anger (of course not to the level of killing!).

We heard some noise once.  Ok, no big deal.  Then, minutes later it was much louder and wasn't stoppin.  I got up, went into the hall, went up our stairs, and yelled: "Yo!" as at least three guys ran out the door in front of me wearing latex gloves.  I had no idea what to make of it.  I yelled up to see what was goin on, and the one guy said these guys came in and hit him.  So all I thought was there was some crazy fight.  Wrong.

As details were shared, I found out the guys were also wearin masks and had bags.  They broke in, put a gun to one guy's head, stole some things (including their house keys), and ran out.  Which brings us to where I saw them.  I honestly didn't see their faces.  And I'm sure thankful they didn't stop when I was right there yellin at them!  I had NO idea what was goin on, and that they had at least one gun.  God is good! It could have been so much worse.    Besides bein a bit shaken up (and the one guy a little scratched up), they were ok...and so was I...and my family.

That book I mentioned in my second post ("An Exorcist Tells His Story") says we should really talk to our Guardian Angels.  At least I feel like it did.  Either way, we should.  They are always on duty, fighting against evil spirits to protect us.  And every once in a while...if God wills it...protect us physically as well.  I've been spared many times in my life where I could have or should have been dead.  What a gift they are to us!  Anyway, myself included...get to know your Guardian Angel!

Oh...and the sleeping baby?  Just as Mommy and Daddy were settled in to finally watch "Grimm?"  You guessed it.  She woke up, and just a few minutes ago finally went to sleep again.  My blog time is Pacific for some reason, and I can't figure out how to fix it.  It's now 1:45 AM, and I'm about to attempt to take her back to her crib.  As the song says: "Say a little prayer for meeeee!"

Mawwiage and Twooo Wuv

First a note:  My friendly neighborhood wife informed me she thought I had typos remaining in my posts.  'Twas not true.  Where I leave the "g's" off of words (like thinkin, stinkin, and all the "ins")...it's because I mostly write the way I talk.  Ok...onto the actual subject:  Mawwiage.  Mawwiage is what bwings us togetha...today. 

Actually no.  Music is.  Music is a huge part of my life.  I write it, sing it, and perform it.  It takes me forever to learn lyrics that aren't mine...but I still love the same songs I can't memorize.  It can express any emotion we feel at a given time.  It can bring me back to a specific time in my life.  It can be healing or even just plain silly.  It has been my proposal of marriage, and my wedding reception first dance song...both from my own hand.  It is something at which I've improved over the years, but was developed without  professional training.  In other words...God blessed me with this gift.  I did nothing to earn it, deserve it, or make it happen. 

Yes...I was involved in children's choir in grade school.  But I was also dressed down by the former sister who was once my third grade teacher for singing "like you're 30."  Perhaps I may have her permission to now that I'm almost 37.  Who says that to a kid?  Thing is...maybe that made me better without my realizing it.  Has it bothered me?  You bet.  But typing this made me think it may have been just the thing that made me want to be better.  Only God knows for sure.

Yes...I was with the music ministry of two different prayer communities (and got to sing at World Youth Day 2002 in Canada, co-wrote and sang a song in front of a conference full of people, and made a cd with the music ministry ).  Yes...I was briefly a member of the seminary choir.  Yes...I attempted to record as a solo act for a very, very short and fruitless time.  I know as a fact that experience helped me grow as an artist.  There was a man who gave vocal advice.  I retained at least one major piece  of information he shared with me.  Man was that helpful!  So perhaps I WAS trained vocally and otherwise without realizing it.

I made many failed attempts at connecting with others to make music.  I finally caught on with a friend of mine and formed a short-lived project we called Chester Scenic.  That was also invaluable experience.  Things went a year or two, then there was a lot of misunderstanding between us.  Fast Forward...peace was made, and a fun reunion show was played.  Better yet...a friendship was renewed.  My friend helped me put my re-worked proposal on guitar, then hashed out my first dance song with me.  Weeks later, it was finally ready to record.  My wedding day and even our story is yet another one for another time. 

Point is, like I said... it always came naturally...though I had a lot of help developing it.  I'm writing about music simply because that's what on my mind at this time.  It is my lifeline at times.  It helped me deal with what was then the longest (and in the running for craziest) relationship I was in before I met Theresa.  It has been silly fun, annoying, tedious, faith affirming, but never boring. 

Music has a way of touching our souls like no other medium (and no...I'm not talkin about psychics.  My sign...is the Sign of the Cross haha).  So perhaps I'll stop here for now, and in the next post share some of my personal musical history with you a little more.  This one could go on for a while. Or not. I guess we'll see.  Sound good?  Okie doke...Peace and all good!

Koreckchun...Ummmm...Correction

I find myself wanting to do this more and more...not even sure if anyone is even enjoying these beside myself.  Fact is, not keeping a journal probably hasn't helped my memory issues.  So I'm hoping this can somewhat serve that purpose well.  At least I won't get writer's cramp!

Today I'm thinkin about correcting others.  I don't mean I'm thinkin about whom to correct specifically , nor what to say.  What I mean is: When we do have to correct others, what is our motivation?  Is it the right time and place?  Have we sufficiently examined our own faults and where we are personally?  Why am I so afraid to speak up when I should?  Why am I fearful of others?  Why do I feel embarrassed or ashamed about my faith?  Come to think of it...why do I always feel not good enough...and/or entitled?  You see...there are many thoughts that stem from thinkin about correction.

As far as motivation is concerned, we should always be of a loving mindset.  We should be driven to look out for the other person...even at the risk of being rejected.  But I'm often too afraid to say what needs to be said (I'm horribly intimidated by people, lack confidence and faith, and just plain fear people's reactions).  Or I'm driven by my own false reasons and selfishness.  The latter occurs more often in close personal settings (though definitely not exclusively)...while the former dominates me.

I found myself in a situation recently with someone I know and love very much.  I found myself fearful of the person, and what I believed needed to be said.  I waste too many opportunities to do what is right (either on my own, or in witnessing to others when I know I should).  This case was getting heavy on my heart, and I knew I had to do something about it. 

My friend was none too pleased with what I had to say, but for once in my life...I KNEW I did the right thing out of love.  I didn't like the result.  My friend didn't want to talk to me for a little while.  And we honestly still haven't even talked this out yet.  When we do finally address it, I pray it only helps us grow closer to each other and God.  All I know right now, is that I was and am at peace over what I said, and why I said it.  How I wish that was me all the time!

We all struggle.  We all fall short of what we should do.  We also all need those who care enough for our good...for our souls...to call us on to be better than we are right now.  People who call us to be holy...or rather to strive to be closer to holiness than we were a moment before.  We only have the moment at hand.  No more are promised us.  We all waste them.  We all make poor choices.  I pray that I stop wasting as much as I do...and I pray the same for you.  I pray for our resolve to do what we must for ourselves...and what we should do for others.  I pray that love...His love...is what drives us now...and for the rest of our lives.

Whatchu Talkin About, People? (Part 2)

Ok, so I decided I want to be a lector again.  What I haven't mentioned is that I also cantored for years, stopped before I left the Church for 2 1/2 years, went back to it for a while a bit after I returned to the Faith, then stopped right before my daughter was born.  I stopped so I could pray with my family right next to me.  Then the changes to the Liturgy came about, and I'm still workin them out...especially musically.  I love them, but things take time.   There are also reasons I'll explain later on in this post.

I called my Dad to ask him who's in charge of lectors.  He wasn't sure, but when I explained I wanted to be one, and what Fr. had said and all...he laughed.  That was odd to me, so I asked him about it.  He said people were gona keep asking why I don't cantor. 

You see, people have been askin me for a while now when I'll cantor again.  They mean well, and it's a huge compliment...but I have no current desire to do it.  I write and sing with my band Paging Samuel ( www.reverbnation.com/pagingsamuel and www.facebook.com/pagingsamuel ).  That is my outlet for singing and sharing my faith.  We get to play coffee houses, pro-life benfits, conferences, Catholic Undergrounds, etc.  It is so fun and fulfilling for me, and people have seemed to get something of value out of it.  So I just don't feel led to cantor.  That, and when I've cantored I always had some kind of anxiety when I did it.  I always felt like I was messin something up, or forgetting something even when I wasn't..  It was just unnerving.

My Dad is a great man of faith.  Honestly, it was his conversion that led me to know Jesus.  That's a story for another time.  So he has been huge in my life.  There are times like this one though, that confuse me and annoy me.  Why would he laugh because other people think I should do a different ministry than the one I believe I'm currently called to do?  Perhaps...and it seems fairly evident...he thinks that's what I should do.  Well him, my Mom, and more than a few people at church.

When does the pressure from others end?  When do parents start seeing you as at least a somewhat intelligent and capable minded adult?  For years after I left the seminary (yet another story for later), people kept tellin me I'd go back and be a priest.  Well I was 18 when I left, and I'm now 37, married, and have a daughter.  I've found that well meaning people often put their visions and expectations on you.  How about being thankful we all love Jesus and are doin the best we can to get to Heaven? 

In no way do I mean to judge anyone, or do I feel they have been horrible people.  I myself have probably done this to others.  Suggesting is one thing.  Sayin it over, and over, and over again is another.  So is laughing when someone has something else they're gifted at while you have other ideas for them.  If it was a matter of my salvation...please correct me!   I need it...a lot.  But when this kind of situation arises, just let me do what I think is right.  We don't know what's best for another person when it comes to ministry.  God does.  And He's the One Who places the desire in us.  And how boring and bothersome it would be if we all did what others thought we should!

That being said, there ARE times where mentioning something to someone, or acknowledging their gifts is a wonderful thing to do.  Most of us have been led to life changing decisions because wise people planted the seeds.  Thank God for those moments and those people!

I got a call from my Dad today.  He saw someone from church who could relay my desire to lector to the one who organizes that ministry.  Now THAT'S a step in the right direction.

Whatchu Talkin About, People? (Part 1)

Last evening, I went to Mass with my wife Theresa and our daughter Gracie May to celebrate the Solemnity of the Assumption.  Now, perhaps you know or don't know.  We as Catholics believe Mary (while nowhere equal to God, but definitely hand-picked by God for greatness as close to His as we will ever find ) was taken up to Heaven by God...body and soul.   You and I will have to wait to have our bodies and souls reunite.  She, on the other hand was first in line after Jesus went back home to have her whole person in the Kingdom.  You see, we are not just bodies.  We are bodies and souls.  Anything less than that, and we aren't human.  We believe she was then crowned by the Trinity (Father, Son, Holy Spirit) as Queen of Heaven, Earth, and everything else for that matter.  While Jesus intercedes to the Father at all times, Mary intercedes for us to Jesus...just like at the Wedding Feast at Cana:(http://www.usccb.org/bible/john/2/.

Anyway, our new pastor came out right before Mass asking if any lectors were present.  Seeing no one apparently wishing to reply, I told Theresa I'd go offer my services...work scrubs on and all.  She told me someone would probably be there to do it...and that I hadn't the training to do it.  Funny what we still don't know about each other (or even ourselves) sometimes.  First, I told her God understood what I was wearing.  Then I said even if someone were there, it couldn't hurt to offer.  Lastly, what Theresa didn't know:  I had been trained years ago to proclaim the Word of God at Mass!  We got a little laugh out of that.

I went and offered, which seemed to please our new friend in black and white.  I was pleased to once again be blessed enough to proclaim the Word.  Now this isn't to judge or knock other very good people...but I find many lectors wanting in the proclaiming part of lectoring.  Some read too fast, others too low, or even with accents too thick to understand.  Now I hope that didn't sound wrong.  I appreciate genuine Christian people and every effort they make to serve.  But akin to the singing and playing of music at Mass, lectoring well is huge in revealing God's Presence at Mass.  Yes, I'm picky...but sometimes that's good! 

So I went up...proclaimed the first reading, psalm, and second reading...and loved every second of it.  There was one woman who just beamed while she listened.  Cool, right?  Then I turned to Fr. and asked about the Alleluia.  I thought he wanted me to read it.  Ummmm...nope.  So thus I went and sat back down.

I felt rather proud, to be honest.  It felt incredible to be able to do that.  There were very few present, but I was able to share something with them I had no business sharing.  What a gift!  Mass flowed for me from then on...more than I'm used to.  A peace came over me, and it was wonderful!

After Mass, a good friend came up and told me she was proud of me for helping.  Honestly...how difficult was it to offer?   Her compliments meant quite a bit though...seeing as I respect her a great deal as a holy woman of God.

On the way out, I told Theresa how much I liked lectoring.  She slightly acknowledged me, and kept walking.  When we came to the front of the church to speak with Fr., he asked me if I was a regular lector for our parish, to which I replied I wasn't.  He said, "Maybe you should be."  He paid me the highest compliments as he explained why I had been one of the best he's heard!  Say what?  Wow...praise God!  Basically, Fr. wants to sign me up, and think I'm ok with that.  In other words...absolutely!

When I told Theresa I wanted to do it, she told me she already knew I did...because, as she says: "I know you, Paul."  Yes, Theresa. Yes you do.

What's In a Memory?

I've been thinkin a lot lately about my memory issues (among many others that plague me daily).  I was reading a book called "An Exorcist Tells His Story" by Fr. Gabriele Amorth..the chief exorcist of Rome.  He explains that sometimes the devil attacks in ways many don't realize.  Sometimes it could even be a combination of diabolical attacks and mental health problems.  There is a list Fr. created of other ways the devil attacks, but I'll only address this one here.

Now, you may be thinking: "This guy's nuts."  I'm also taking a huge risk in revealing my struggles.  But that's what I promised you in my initial post...and that's what I'm going to give you.  For as long as I can think of, my memory has been horrible with things big and small.  Numerous times a day I forget what I was doing (more than what you personally would consider normal for yourself).  Many times I can't even recall key conversations I've had. I barely retain anything of value I've read.  Even the book I mentioned is vaguely in my mind.

I forget at least 75-85% of my life...even most of the past few years.  I can't remember many people I've known...and known well.  I forget very important things I need to remember.  I can only tell you a few things...really just a few...about people I've been close to my whole life.  It is terribly upsetting to be this way.  I've broken down crying to my wife about this numerous times.  My biggest concern is forgetting much of my daughter's life. .

That leads me back to the book I've barely broken into so far.  Fr. Amorth states that the demons attack basically two places: the head and the stomach.   Besides the memory, I  frequently feel fuzzy -headed, out of place, and overwhelmed.   This is honestly over 90% of the time, if not more. Now, I'm not saying I'm definitely being attacked solely on a spiritual level. I will say that I believe wholeheartedly that I need...at the very least...spiritual healing and delieverance.

I also feel God has been opening my eyes to see this more.  I can't shake the inclination He is preparing me for something.  When I pray...or even when I start to recognize something in me I hadn't (anger, the way I treat people, etc.)...my body will jerk.  It happens around my stomach.  It feels like something is being released...and often brings a peace.

I once spoke with a priest I consider as holy a man as I've ever met about this.  I asked him what he thought about spirits attaching and attacking us; what he thought about needing deliverance.  I told him what happens to me physically.  He told me he thought I was onto something that we don't really look at these days...mostly ignored or unaddressed by the Church.   He said most of us probably have spirits attached to us that we just can't seem to shake.  Delieverance is then necessary.  I could give you a laundry list of reasons spirits have most likely attached to me.  So yes...I believe this.

Why am I sharing all this?  Like I said...it's my journey.  I'm really hoping and praying to grow...and if that also helps someone else (even you perhaps), then praise God!  We'll all be better for it.  I guess it would also be really cool if others experience this, and share what works for them.  Fr. Amorth recommends the Sacraments, living a Christian life, giving of yourself, etc.  Giving of myself is right up there with all my other major issues (which I'll share more as we go).  Healing Masses and services are nearby.  Anything like that can only bless us...even if our answers aren't what we want them to be...or if they take longer than we desire.  I also found this website I need to utilize: http://www.saintpiocenter.org/selfhelp/sevensteps.asp.  It's a guide to self deliverance.  And seeing as they attached St. Pio's name to it...I kinda think it will be worthwhile to at least attempt. 

If you've read this far, you're either really bored, actually care about me (thank you!), or are entertained by my apparent insanity.  Thing is, I believe I'm growing more sane as I go...even if I don't feel it.  I figure sooner or later I'm gona figure this thing out...by His grace and our Lady's intercession..and whether it's here...or after.  Peace be with you!

Cardboard Creatures...Say What?

Hello and welcome!  My name is Paul.  My full name means "Priceless Man of Peace who Wrestles with God."  I'm a Roman Catholic, Husband, Daddy, Writer, Singer, Recreational Assistant, and a mess loved by God.  I'm unabashedly Pro-Life.  I am emotional and cold...fiery and closed off....opinionated and afraid.

So...what do I have to say in my first post?  First off, this blog is simply intended to be the sharing of my journey.  I've been many places in life, and will be in many more until or unless my journey ends. 

So...why "Cardboard Creatures?"  This means a few things.  First, we as a culture and individuals often get caught up in trying to impress others...in sameness...all the while claiming independence and uniqueness.  Second, we can lose our passion and vision.  We can dry up and just go through the motions.  Third, we have the potential (like cardboard) to be filled with good or bad...and/or to be shaped and transformed into something new.  The choice is always within our free will.  All three can describe me at different times...or sometimes all at once.  I struggle greatly...while simultaneously wanting to be so much better than I am.

I will share more of what I mean by this as we go along.  You will learn more about me, who I am, and who I hope to become.  I'll share my weaknesses and strengths, my thoughts and insights, and just about anything else on my ADHD mind.  My sincere hope is that I grow through this, and that you gain something of value from it, and perhaps learn more about yourself as well.  Thank you for your time and interest.  Please feel more than welcome to share your thoughts and insights with me as we explore more of what it means to be more than just cardboard creatures!