For the Mother of my Mother.

Christ, the Sun of Righteousness, shine upon me, and lift up my face. Illumine my mind and heart, that I may see the wonderful gifts you have given me. These dark days steal the joy which you have shown me. Teach me to number my days, that I may present to you a heart of wisdom. Show me O Lord, the way of thanksgiving and fasting, that I may humble myself before thy mighty hand.

Dear great mother,

Listen now to my words, I plead with you now. Though you are gone now, no voice here on earth can call you back, look thee forward to the voice that called me her son. O Mother of my mother, listen to the voice of Him who gave me His mother and made me His brother. Be not afraid, dear woman, the same woman didst proclaim, "His mercy is on them that fear him, throughout all generations."

You raised me since I came to this world. You bathed me when my mother was at work. You kept me in your watch and taught me hard work. Among which you taught me was how to sow a seed, water it, tend after it and care for it. You given me the gift of hard work. Though I slept not my naps when I was young, you taught me to wash the dishes and mop the house when I was three. Though the communists took your money, you gave me these gifts. You taught me how to vacuum the house, to look after the grandest father in his wheelchair.

More importantly, you taught me to honor my father and mother. You have given me much. Dearest of grandmothers, to whom shall I go now for thy sagely wisdom?
Who will give me sound advice, especially on how to love my dear wife? How will I walk like a man in this world, when you taught me to distinguish between good and evil men, especially in the the public's sphere? Where shall I go now? Where are you going, grandmother? Will you hear the voice of Christ? Look, he gave us everything, his love, his Father, his Mother, and most importantly, his life of love.

Dear Mother, the Mother of my Saviour calls for thee. Heed her voice, for she tells you only, "Do what he tells you." Oh Mother of my Mother, I weep for thee. Death has not touched me like you have touched my heart. Daily, I still pray for thee.

Thus it so, I submit thee to intercession of my Blessed Virgin Mother,

HAIL Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou amongst women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
Pray for us sinners,
now and the hour of our death.

To us you are a noonday torch of charity, while down below, among those still in flesh, you are the living fountainhead of hope. Have charity on my grandmother, I pray thee to ask the Son of God for his merciful love.

O Virgin Mother, Daughter of Your Son, Highest creature of Heaven, intercede for my grandmother and me. You who felt the sword pierce your heart, yet tasted not death, pray for the dead. When you saw Your son pierced for our sins, you were given the grace to bring us closer to Him, and partake in his suffering, thus partake in His divinity. And since you are the Mother of the King, so shall I pray,

HAIL, holy Queen, Mother of Mercy,
our life, our sweetness and our hope.
To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve;
to thee do we send up our sighs,
mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.

Turn then, most gracious advocate,
thine eyes of mercy toward us;
and after this our exile,
show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.

Pray for us O holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

O Glorious Mother, take now my grandmother's place, and show me the path to the Son.

O my Jesus, forgive us of our sins, save us from the fires of hell, lead all souls into heaven, especially those in most need of thy mercy.

IN Nomine Patris, Filio, Spiritui Sancto. Amen

Resquiat In Pacem, meus mater. 1924-2009.

Jokes in Heaven

Many years soon-after, I saw myself before the presence of God. It has been a pretty long time since I came home from Earth. One day, as I was praying for the Church militant back down on earth, who has been asking for my prayers, I thought to myself. You know, when I was down there, I had both Protestant and Catholic friends. The Catholic friends still keep in touch with me. They still ask for my intercessions. But the Protestants treat me as if I'm... dead!

So I came before the Lamb who took away the sins of the world. "Lord," I prayed, "Will you please bring the Protestants here to Heaven sooner? They haven't been talking to me lately."

The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ the King

This past Sunday was the last Sunday in Ordinary time. Next week is Advent, where we wait for the first coming of our Lord, and celebrate Christmas soon-after.

I really liked the prayer before the Consecration today when we celebrated the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ the King. Allow me to share it with you.

Preface of Christ the King:
Father, all-powerful and ever-living God, we do well always and everywhere to give you thanks.
You anointed Jesus Christ, your only Son, with the oil of gladness, as the eternal priest and universal king.
As priest he offered his life on the altar of the cross and redeemed the human race by this one perfect sacrifice of peace.
As king he claims dominion over all creation, that he may present to you, his almight Father, an eternal and universal kingdom:
a kingdom of truth and life,
a kingdom of holiness and grace,
a kingdom of justice, love, and peace.

And so, with all the choirs of angels in heaven we proclaim your glory and join them in their unending hymn of praise:
Holy, Holy, Holy Lord. God of power and might. Heaven and earth are full of your glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.

Job 3:1

I've been pretty depressed lately. Actually, I've never felt so bad in my life than right now. Please pray for me. I don't mind you checking up on me either by the way. *hint hint*

Where briars grow, unwary sheep,
Befogged by hungry need,
Entangle fleece in thickets where
We only thought to feed.
The Shepherd comes to set us free
From snares of piercing thorn.
Released, we are made whole, but look-
The Shepherd's hands are torn.

On every bare and rocky height,
His sheep in safety graze.
God shelters us from wind and rain
And from the sun's bright blaze.
The Shepherd pastures us in peace,
To living waters leads.
All hurts now healed, we are at rest-
But see, the Shepherd bleeds.

For He has other sheep than these,
Who have not heard His voice,
But when the last are gathered in-
The heavens will rejoice:
The saints who crowd the gates of God
Stand waiting to extol
The last sheep found, for then, ah! Look -
The Shepherd is made whole!