Thursday, July 11, 2024

Why Are We Here - Part 2


 
June 11th, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, Sister Mary Claire and I enjoyed another beautiful walk to church. The cool air and fresh, vibrant surroundings made our journey feel almost magical. The flowers and trees seemed to sing praises to God, and we felt truly blessed to witness such beauty.

Father LeRoy continued his homily about Saint John Vianney today. He spoke about how we will regret the time we wasted on pleasures and useless conversations at the hour of death. "Oh, how bitterly shall we regret at the hour of death the time we have given to pleasures, to useless conversations, to repose, instead of having employed it in mortification, in prayer, in good works, in thinking of our poor misery, in weeping over our poor sins; then we shall see that we have done nothing for heaven. Oh, my children, how sad it is! Three-quarters of those who are Christians labor for nothing but to satisfy this body, which will soon be buried and corrupted, while they do not give a thought to their poor soul, which must be happy or miserable for all eternity. They have neither sense nor reason: it makes one tremble."

After church, we had a delightful noon luncheon outside at the picnic table with just myself Tom, Judy, and Sister Mary Claire. The weather was perfect, and it was so nice to enjoy the meal in the company of dear friends. Mini happily played around us, and Omelette, my brown hen clucked contentedly nearby. It was a lovely affair that I will cherish.

Tomorrow, I hope to see Shaggycoat at the creek. As we walked home today, I thought I heard his tail splash from the creek, which wasn't far away. I can't wait to see him again and feel connected to all of God's creatures.

As the day comes to a close, I offer this evening prayer:

"Dear Lord, thank You for the blessings of this day. Thank You for the beauty of nature and the joy of serving You. Guide us through the night and keep us safe. Help us to wake tomorrow with hearts ready to serve You again. Amen."

Good night, dear Diary.

Love, Kathy

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