St. Michael Prayer

St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do, thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the Power of God, cast into hell satan and all of the evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.

Glory to God in the Highest!

Friday, May 30, 2014

7 Quick Takes Friday - My Week


The Black Madonna visited our church this week.   I missed the welcoming prayer service on Friday night because I fell asleep on the couch.  The kids were home, and I can no longer stay awake like I used to be able to do and visit with them.  I was so tired, and I knew I needed a nap, so when the couch called my name, I answered it, and, according to my children, I slept and slept deeply.  When I woke up, it was too late to attend the prayer service.  I was very disappointed.




I didn’t set my alarm for Mass the next morning, but God knows me, and I was awake in plenty of time for Mass.  I decided that  I would just stay in bed and rest, but the call was to get going.  I took my shower, and I made it ten minutes before Mass started.  Imagine my surprise to see The Black Madonna in the center of church.  I realized that this was the reason for me to attend Mass.  At the end of Mass, we had a goodbye ceremony for Our Lady.  Then she was carried to the narthex of the church, where we were allowed to venerate her.  The few of us who stayed were given the special privilege of being alone with our Mother.  It. Was. Amazing!  The graces poured out into us.  Blessing upon blessing.  Grace upon grace.



Cantoring last Sunday  was a challenge because I didn't have all the music until the last minute. That meant NO. PRACTICE.  I became frantic, but I prayed, "I trust in you, Jesus."  I think He smiled.  I also asked our Blessed Mother and St. Cecilia for help, just in case.  I made it through the difficult parts with the help of our music director.  Singing wasn't my best, but it wasn't that bad. 


Sunday, I spent time with my new friend. She's 30, fun, and muslim. I was going to teach her to crochet, but we talked instead.  We decided that the next time we might just talk.  God has challenged me to overcome my fears and concerns and accept another of his children as His beloved child.  I am blessed.

Went to the cemetery to put flowers on his grave, only to find that the flower pot was missing.  Flowers are in the car until I can get a new flower pot.  I wish I had known.  I’m not sure when I’ll get back.  It was Memorial Day last Monday, after all. 


Our Church’s music director is my voice teacher, and with each voice lesson, I learn more about the ministry of cantoring.   As terrified as I am when the music is a surprise, I have learned that I must be willing to be vulnerable in order to connect with the congregation in prayer.  Very interesting thoughts, and I must ponder them in my heart.  Music is not about me.  Music is about the connection with the congregation in prayer.  Music is a journey.  Music is  a connection between God and the congregation.  Music is prayer.

I ordered new business cards yesterday.  If I can ever learn to fully trust in the power of the Holy Spirit, decisions like this would be easier.  "Trust, Me," He says, and I forget.

 My soul is tied in knots this evening.  I look forward to the Sacrament of Reconciliation on Saturday.   Peace that can only cone from God pours into my soul as I am absolved of my sin.  I am weak.   Thank God for the sacrament of Confession.  
As I progress on this spiritual journey, I find I am being drawn more into ministries that deal with the dying and those left behind after death.  I have asked the Holy Spirit to "shake up my life," and He has not disappointed me.
 
For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

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