When I stand before God at the end of my life I would hope that I would have not a single bit of talent left and could say, “I used everything you gave me.” ~ Erma Bombeck
“In the opening chapters in the book of Genesis, the story of the creation of the first human being gives us a hint of what God intends for us. In this story God takes a mound of mud and breathes into it to create Adam. In Hebrew the word “ruah” means breath, wind, or spirit. The author of Genesis is telling us that God put His own Spirit into the mud (creature) and thus made it human. God places a bit of Himself inside each of us.” — borrowed from Fra Jude, companionsofstanthony.org
As children — our siblings, cousins and neighborhood kids would dress up in old sheets as saints and play Catholic Mass. Necco wafers substituted as the Eucharistic Host of choice since it had the most white wafers, thereby closely resembling the Real Presence. We each had a favorite saint, patterning our lives as closely as possible to the excellent virtues each saint exhibited. Mine? St. Anthony of Padua, chosen because he would preach to the fish if no one else bothered to listen to his sermons and of course, St. Francis of Assisi, a closely held friend and confidant of all animals. These two holy men, the perfect combination to follow in their footsteps as I too, loved animals (and talking, even if an audience wasn’t listening!) I have failed miserably, as an adult, to achieve even the remotest of remote outposts to rise anywhere near their level of sanctification. But lo and behold! We are given another breath, another minute, to do our best to practice sainthood. As Mother Angelica tells us at the beginning of each of her radio and television broadcasts — “we are all called to be saints — what’s stopping you?!” (ewtn.com)
Since we are basically, all “mud pies” created in the Image of God through His Breath, I invite you to walk into my world today. Each moment is given to Surrender. Deep Surrender as I have found this is the only way for me to turn off the sounds and banging gongs of the world and listen in silent contemplation to the Voice of God. (Have you ever noticed the word silent has the same letters as listen?) I invite you to turn off your electronic devices and go into your garden. If you haven’t a garden, purchase a little pot and place seeds inside and experience a little vision of the silence of God in the voice of a flower or an herb.
Today I am making mud pies. Literally. Mud pies. Filled with wildflower seeds and drying in the sun for you to purchase when they are dry. I’ll share my inspiration and process in a little while and together, we can spread the Voice of God through the quietness of flowers.
Where did the inspiration come from to — as an adult — make mud pies? Embarrassingly enough (and a sin still unconfessed!) we offered to pay a neighborhood kid a nickel if he would eat one of our mud pies. He did. A nickel back then could buy a few chick-o-sticks, a much coveted candy since one had to sneak across the ditch, race through eight lanes of truck traffic and then ask Mr. Bauer not to tell your Mom you were there. Of course, the sin doubles itself since not only did we steal the nickel from our Mother’s purse, but we persuaded a kid to eat mud because we knew he was a bit soft in the head … I digress! But the inspiration came from just having fun playing in the dirt; we never thought about a lemonade stand. The pungent smell of the earth rising to our nostrils and adding forbidden water to make mud, was, well, intoxicating!
My worms just arrived! I received a note from unclejimswormfarm.com that my order of 4000 red worms are sitting on our front porch so I must close this article out and fetch them before the raccoons stop in for a snack. Worms are the best little gardeners ever and I will tell you more about why later. Until then, enjoy a pleasant evening and Pray for All Souls!
