Starry Sky Ranch

November

 

“November is usually such a disagreeable month...as if the year had suddenly found out that she was growing old and could do nothing but weep and fret over it.

This year is growing old gracefully...just like a stately old lady who knows she can be charming even with gray hair and wrinkles.

We've had lovely days and delicious twilights.”

LM Montgomery

Things we somehow did not know about St Catherine Laboure before today:

Her first name, before religious life, was Zoe. I am not sure I have ever heard of a Zoe before recent times and this intrigues me now. 

She not only cared for the aged and infirm, but she was in charge of the poultry for the order. 

Those who knew her commented that she was "rather insignificant", "matter-of-fact and unexcitable", "cold, almost apathetic"

This is no doubt due to "the precautions she had taken to keep herself unknown."

I have a deep devotion to the Miraculous Medal. My story is deeply tied up with hers. For reasons too plentiful and diverse to list here, I became disillusioned with the Church of my youth which was barely hanging on and largely run by poorly formed lay people. I began to venture more deeply into my mother's new age resources.

By the time I was a young mother I had also seen a multitude of problems there and was no closer to finding answers I so desperately sought. Through a library story hour program we met Catholic homeschool families and eventually landed at a catechism program offered at an old downtown church in the city we lived in then. An older man would stop by some class days and sold old Catholic books for a quarter or fifty cents. An avid reader, I scooped several up and began to explore these new ideas. Suddenly there were answers coming together.

He approached me one Saturday morning and said, "If I bring something for you and your son would you wear it?  It's free!" Free being my love language I said, "Sure?" The next week he brought two very bulky Miraculous Medal necklaces and placed one over my head and one over my son's.  Six weeks later I was in the confessional for the first time in many years.  The rest, as they say, is history. Or rather it is an ever-unfolding story complete with more plot twists than I ever expected. I was back though.  The journey began there.  This is where I mark a definite starting point.  

I am forever grateful to a humble sister who spent her whole life serving and performing tasks the rest of the world would find lowly at best. She was the only one in her large family who was not given benefit of education, due to her mother's early death and the responsibilities which fell to her afterwards. She didn't wow her contemporaries as evidenced by the "rather insignificant" comment.  I imagine her now cleaning her coop much as I do. In quiet conversation with God as she went about the very unglamorous tasks required in caring for folks who cannot care for themselves. "Matter of fact" suggests to me that she put one foot in front of the other. In another place it relates that her life is "notable for her devotion to profound silence."

profound silence

farm work

physical care of the infirm

 St Catherine Laboure, pray for us. 

Butler's Lives biography here

Don't Miss It

“The season of Advent means there is something on the horizon the likes of which we have never seen before …

What is possible is to not see it, to miss it, to turn just as it brushes past you.

And you begin to grasp what it was you missed, like Moses in the cleft of the rock, watching God’s [back] fade in the distance.

So stay.

Sit.

Linger.

Tarry.

Ponder.

Wait.

Behold.

Wonder.

There will be time enough for running. For rushing. For worrying. For pushing. For now, stay. Wait. Something is on the horizon.”

~ Jan L. Richardson

 

Christ does not force His entry into a home. He enters only by invitation. He remains only when evidently welcome.  - Christ in the Home

 

St Andrew Novena Nov 30 - Dec 24

Hail, and blessed be the hour and moment
At which the Son of God was born
Of a most pure Virgin
At a stable at midnight in Bethlehem
In the piercing cold
At that hour vouchsafe, I beseech Thee,
To hear my prayers and grant my desires (mention request here)
Through Jesus Christ and His most Blessed Mother