I think that the main point of this chapter is obvious; God calls everyone to infused prayer. We can't be holy without it. I look at all the sins he lists that I struggle with, mostly unsuccessfully, and how infused prayer gradually removes them. I can't be holy without this kind of prayer and I have to get out of God's way and let Him act in me. For me personally I feel called to focus on trusting Him more than on infused prayer, and I listen almost every day to the utube song Do Whatever He Tells You. So I am much more focused on those two things because I think that's what God wants me focused on right now, and on lots of vocal prayer which does sometimes set my heart on fire and sometimes not. But he said one often has infused prayer without realizing it and it gradually makes one holy. I can only hope and pray.
I have noticed on Substack that permission is required to post directly to a member not subscribed in a shared subscription.
To propose to "Follow" seems to come with options and obligations of a different nature.
So far one person has offered to follow me (Good!) and one to subscribe, apparently, to what I "Also share(d) to Notes." (There is almost, but not quite nothing there. Because, like a cat, I would have not lasted long without those eight extra lives. Yes, I may have checked that box once.) This was puzzling... I also observe that I am not notified if someone in a shared Substack looks at my profile. I have reason to suppose that a few have done so.
Where am I going here? For the most part, I do not look at other profiles without permission, even though, apparently, no one would know that I had done so. This may seem silly of me, but I was raised by a mother who would rather have been living in upper class Victorian England, instead of in rural Vermont; land rich, but cash poor, as they said back in that lost Dickensian world. (My father, being a fifth-generation stoic Yankee farmer, did not have much to say in general, and especially about what he might have preferred. What he respected, he lived out in his skilled and dedicated work and devotion to being a respected family man.)
So, I have not looked at your profile, Sue. Dare I suppose I have more than permission, at this point? "Such a long story to ask a simple question." May I read your profile?
Hovering over your (lavender?) icon, I'm invited to subscribe to your Substack project.
Clicking the icon, (Why was I assigned black before providing a selfie?) opens into recent activity. Conversations within the two forums you mention (if forum means what it did ten years ago, online). Not yet a profile, exactly.
Replying now because leaving this text window to look around effectively = Cancel.
EDIT: I'm back from concluding that I could just be inept, or/and Substack has identified me as marginal enough to safely mess with, or/and you have no profile per se. The latter would be admirable, as in refusing to fly when the sufficiently marginal to safely mess with were required to take off their (our) shoes before boarding; said refusal based merely on the principle of upholding human dignity for all human beings, not just the favored few.
I have no idea what color it is because I don't go there. I am a commenter and I usually have just put working on my dissertation except God wants me not to do that and instead to spend most of my time in prayer. God got me when I was 36 and when I looked into cloistered orders they had a maximum age of entrance of 35. But now He's having me live this kind of life, just alone.
Stone walls do not a prison make nor iron bars a cage.
Minds innocent and quiet take that for an hermitage.
If I am happy in my love and if my soul is free,
Angels alone who fly above enjoy such liberty.
Richard Lovelace, To Alethea from Prison (from memory)
I was given to understand that the age ceiling was instituted (love this word) because old (men in most cases) having no accumulated means to retire or die in relative dignity in the world, and with no sufficient donation to more than cover care-providing expenses, or ability to work at least half of a productive life-time, had to be preempted, ironically, because they were the poor.
I fear for the souls of those "Religious," of little faith or understanding, when they approach the Throne of Justice, having forfeited their expectation of Divine Mercy out of fear of poverty. Justice will be their lot. May God yet have Mercy on their souls!
I notice that my heart weeps for these souls. This would be a Sign for my sake, for my Hope, I dare wonder.
They said in the magazine covering all the female religious orders that it was because it was easier for younger women to adapt to the requirements of religious life. And I tried being a
Lay Missionary of Charity for 9 months and dropped out because of the repetitive nature of the office. I have my own prayer life and that is not it. My deacon at Sacred Heart parish at Notre Dame told me the Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration did not require one to pray it so I went to one meeting and asked the sister who ran it if praying the office was required for lay members. She said yes and that was the end of that. So I am single and not part of any religious order and won't be for that reason.
Having frittered away the last three, hours getting all my ducks in a row (so that I might kill the lot with a single shot.)
(Before the ubiquity of automatic rifles and mass-produced ammunition, it actually made sense to maximize your bang for the buck by perfecting your aim. And waiting if your target seemed likely to come a bit closer [unbearable suspense]. Or creeping slowly closer, yourself, if you dared [even more suspense], knowing that you had one (uncertain) chance to take the prize. And that this said prize might at any moment dart away if you hesitated.
Thank God that heaven is not reserved for the few competent hunters, or gatherers, or farmers, or fishers, or (Name your best survival skill) among us. All are invited. Yet, few choose to accept, even though the desire to accept is really the minimal absolute requirement. (Perfection it seems will be imposed on the sincerely desiring and surrendered later on as necessary on a case-by-case basis.)
Oh man! I'm not even fooling myself here. I should go back and read this material again.
Wish me, good hunting! I'm going back into the woods. Later.
I think that the main point of this chapter is obvious; God calls everyone to infused prayer. We can't be holy without it. I look at all the sins he lists that I struggle with, mostly unsuccessfully, and how infused prayer gradually removes them. I can't be holy without this kind of prayer and I have to get out of God's way and let Him act in me. For me personally I feel called to focus on trusting Him more than on infused prayer, and I listen almost every day to the utube song Do Whatever He Tells You. So I am much more focused on those two things because I think that's what God wants me focused on right now, and on lots of vocal prayer which does sometimes set my heart on fire and sometimes not. But he said one often has infused prayer without realizing it and it gradually makes one holy. I can only hope and pray.
I have noticed on Substack that permission is required to post directly to a member not subscribed in a shared subscription.
To propose to "Follow" seems to come with options and obligations of a different nature.
So far one person has offered to follow me (Good!) and one to subscribe, apparently, to what I "Also share(d) to Notes." (There is almost, but not quite nothing there. Because, like a cat, I would have not lasted long without those eight extra lives. Yes, I may have checked that box once.) This was puzzling... I also observe that I am not notified if someone in a shared Substack looks at my profile. I have reason to suppose that a few have done so.
Where am I going here? For the most part, I do not look at other profiles without permission, even though, apparently, no one would know that I had done so. This may seem silly of me, but I was raised by a mother who would rather have been living in upper class Victorian England, instead of in rural Vermont; land rich, but cash poor, as they said back in that lost Dickensian world. (My father, being a fifth-generation stoic Yankee farmer, did not have much to say in general, and especially about what he might have preferred. What he respected, he lived out in his skilled and dedicated work and devotion to being a respected family man.)
So, I have not looked at your profile, Sue. Dare I suppose I have more than permission, at this point? "Such a long story to ask a simple question." May I read your profile?
Yes. I don't think there is much of anything there except Pillar or Bridget comments because I usually share to Notes.
Hovering over your (lavender?) icon, I'm invited to subscribe to your Substack project.
Clicking the icon, (Why was I assigned black before providing a selfie?) opens into recent activity. Conversations within the two forums you mention (if forum means what it did ten years ago, online). Not yet a profile, exactly.
Replying now because leaving this text window to look around effectively = Cancel.
EDIT: I'm back from concluding that I could just be inept, or/and Substack has identified me as marginal enough to safely mess with, or/and you have no profile per se. The latter would be admirable, as in refusing to fly when the sufficiently marginal to safely mess with were required to take off their (our) shoes before boarding; said refusal based merely on the principle of upholding human dignity for all human beings, not just the favored few.
I have no idea what color it is because I don't go there. I am a commenter and I usually have just put working on my dissertation except God wants me not to do that and instead to spend most of my time in prayer. God got me when I was 36 and when I looked into cloistered orders they had a maximum age of entrance of 35. But now He's having me live this kind of life, just alone.
Stone walls do not a prison make nor iron bars a cage.
Minds innocent and quiet take that for an hermitage.
If I am happy in my love and if my soul is free,
Angels alone who fly above enjoy such liberty.
Richard Lovelace, To Alethea from Prison (from memory)
I was given to understand that the age ceiling was instituted (love this word) because old (men in most cases) having no accumulated means to retire or die in relative dignity in the world, and with no sufficient donation to more than cover care-providing expenses, or ability to work at least half of a productive life-time, had to be preempted, ironically, because they were the poor.
I fear for the souls of those "Religious," of little faith or understanding, when they approach the Throne of Justice, having forfeited their expectation of Divine Mercy out of fear of poverty. Justice will be their lot. May God yet have Mercy on their souls!
I notice that my heart weeps for these souls. This would be a Sign for my sake, for my Hope, I dare wonder.
They said in the magazine covering all the female religious orders that it was because it was easier for younger women to adapt to the requirements of religious life. And I tried being a
Lay Missionary of Charity for 9 months and dropped out because of the repetitive nature of the office. I have my own prayer life and that is not it. My deacon at Sacred Heart parish at Notre Dame told me the Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration did not require one to pray it so I went to one meeting and asked the sister who ran it if praying the office was required for lay members. She said yes and that was the end of that. So I am single and not part of any religious order and won't be for that reason.
Having frittered away the last three, hours getting all my ducks in a row (so that I might kill the lot with a single shot.)
(Before the ubiquity of automatic rifles and mass-produced ammunition, it actually made sense to maximize your bang for the buck by perfecting your aim. And waiting if your target seemed likely to come a bit closer [unbearable suspense]. Or creeping slowly closer, yourself, if you dared [even more suspense], knowing that you had one (uncertain) chance to take the prize. And that this said prize might at any moment dart away if you hesitated.
Thank God that heaven is not reserved for the few competent hunters, or gatherers, or farmers, or fishers, or (Name your best survival skill) among us. All are invited. Yet, few choose to accept, even though the desire to accept is really the minimal absolute requirement. (Perfection it seems will be imposed on the sincerely desiring and surrendered later on as necessary on a case-by-case basis.)
Oh man! I'm not even fooling myself here. I should go back and read this material again.
Wish me, good hunting! I'm going back into the woods. Later.