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Patience in the Fire

| A Musing Writer
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An Autumn Sunset. Taken by me on my way home from work one evening. October 2017.

A Reflection on Pentecost Sunday

I was in Third Grade, and my teacher was a lady who hated the word “stuff.” She said that there was always a better word to replace it with, and that was why we should learn and memorize our vocabulary.

A little later on in life, in sixth grade, I had a Reading teacher who would explain to us why cursing was bad. It wasn’t your typical “it’s taking the name of the Lord in vain,” although that was emphasized. She said that whenever you curse, there was always a better way to express yourself, and that cursing actually limits your vocabulary because you tend to stick to what is comfortable, and when you are comfortable cursing, it becomes a part of  your speech that is difficult to remove as you grow older.

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A Knowing in Not Knowing

| A Musing Writer

A musing on the end of the world, eschatology, and egoism

Yesterday, an acquaintance/friend of mine asked me about how I think the world is going to end.

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I searched for this picture in particular because the friend I was speaking with took it, so it is to prove that we as good friends are able to have somewhat civil discussion about faith.

As a Catholic, I don’t think about this topic much, if at all. This young man is not Catholic, and he was raised in the Lutheran Church. However, now he considers himself non-denominational. He did go to the Catholic Mass on campus pretty much every week, so that was good to see (although he received the Holy Eucharist, even after we discussed why he cannot), and he has asserted that he is not against the Catholic Church, and this fact should be well remembered as you go through this musing. There are many things I can say on that matter, but for today, I want to write about the specific topic of an impending doom that many, like my compatriot, sense.

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Music Mends, Language Loves

| A Musing Writer
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The beautiful basilicas at the candlelit Rosary Procession

3 months. A quarter of a year. And I still hurt. It has been about 90 days without our dog. I can’t say that it has been easy. The house is still full of silence, but occasionally, I will sit and play the piano. Now that the semester has finished, I have time to play the piano without feeling guilty about it. I usually warm up with some hymns from a hymnal my 7th grade religion teacher gave me, and then I’ll play some classical music or Broadway music. It is always a much-needed catharsis, and it always has been in times of trial.

I meant to post this last week, but as the way of writers go, nothing ever works out as planned.  Continue reading →