SAINT OLGA

SAINT OLGA
MY GREAT GRANDMOTHER, SAINT OLGA, PATRON SAINT OF CONVERTS

Saturday, October 29, 2016

SOMETIMES YOU KNOW WHAT YOU KNOW

Sunrise at the hermitage


I had surgery on one of my fingers about 5 days ago, and I am able to type...a little.

My expectation had been that they were to put me under for the surgery but the charming East Indian anesthesiologist insisted that blocking the nerves in my arm, in conjunction with some drugs that would put me to sleep, would be better, safer for me, that I wouldn't remember the procedure and I would "take a nice nap" during all of it.

I did my best to convince the anesthesiologist that this method was not best for me. I told him I had post traumatic stress disorder, but it went right over his head. I could not make myself understood.

Having post traumatic stress disorder is not something one decides to have. It isn't something a person can decide NOT to have. A great deal of management is possible, of course, and part of that management is avoiding circumstances that aggravate the illness.

I was terribly concerned about waking up in the middle of surgery, which is exactly what happened, as a matter of fact. I woke up not once, but twice during the procedure, and it was gruesome.

The first time I woke up was early on in the procedure, the nice old anesthesiologist was still inserting needles into my upper arm in order to block all feeling, explaining the procedure to students as he did so.

I have a thing about needles. In grade school, the other children used to delight in watching me faint when they talked to me about needles. I would turn as white as a sheet and then fall to the floor. They loved it.

Needles have always freaked me out, and it has taken a huge amount of mental gymnastics to get me used to needles, but they still stress me out, and even a simple blood test requires so much mental energy to avoid fainting, I need to rest for an entire day afterward.

The second time I woke up while the surgeon was operating on the bone inside my left index finger. I wasn't wearing my eyeglasses, and I am legally blind without them, so I couldn't swear on the number of people standing around my hand, but I want to say there were 4 or 5, including the surgeon. To my right, was a different anesthesiologist, a young man, (probably an intern). He was looking down, away from the machines that were supposed to be informing him of my vital statistics. I could be wrong, but I THINK he was either reading a book or he was asleep.

I said to him, "Hey...I'm awake...put me back to sleep!" He turned around to look at the machines, reached his arm out to them and did whatever he had to do to get me back to sleep. Thanks be to God, I went back to sleep very shortly thereafter.

Being forced to undergo a type of anesthesiology  I knew would not work for me, being strapped down to a table with various machines, IV lines and straps, then waking up TWICE during the procedures was a personal nightmare for me.

Not many people understand post traumatic stress disorder. Even when I explain to them the circumstances that aggravate the illness, most people just don't get it. Some people say things that give me the impression that they think I "should be" in control of it, as if all I have to do is just decide to make it go away. Sadly, it doesn't work like that. Post traumatic stress disorder is pretty much a permanent condition.

It would have been better for me if they had put me out for the surgery, just as was promised when I first discussed the surgery with the surgeon. I wouldn't have had to wake up TWICE during the surgery, and I wouldn't have yet another traumatic series of events to add to the collection.

I knew that my fear would shoot those pain killers and other drugs right out of my system. This is why the dentist had to put me OUT to remove my tooth a few years ago, otherwise he would have had to keep shooting me up, over and over again, with Novocaine. My fear and elevated blood pressure just dissipates the drugs out of my system. I had experience with this with previous dental work. That's how I knew.

Spiritual life doesn't inoculate you from post traumatic stress disorder. It doesn't cure bipolar disorder or countless other diseases. It certainly helps one to cope, though. It gives one a platform from which to fight the sorrows and problems of life. Occasionally, there is a miracle, such as when Jesus brought Lazarus back from the dead. Those kind of things still happen, but they are the exception rather than the rule.

While I recover from the surgery and from the added load to my collection of traumatic events, while I heal from yet another instance of not being heard, I cling to the Lord. I cling to our blessed mother. Resting in her arms, I pray the rosary. At 5 O'clock in the evening, I attend the EWTN televised mass, following with my Adoremus Hymnal. While walking the dog, I pray for my neighbors, my neighborhood, my city, my state and the world. The Jesus Prayer slows my breathing as I putter around the house, doing only the most necessary chores. Throughout my day, I pray short little prayers of exasperation, hope and healing.

Gradually, I heal, and I know that everything will be alright. The surgeon didn't think it is cancer, which is a blessing. The finger is healing nicely, despite the glob of excess super-glue they used to close up the wound which, evidently, was bleeding profusely, since the super glue is clearly mixed with a lot of dark blood. I don't think there is supposed to be such a large amount of super glue, but the surgeon probably left it up to a student to close it up, and these things happen. I hope the blob of blood-colored super glue will fall off before I see the next doctor in a couple of weeks. An appointment has been made for me with a doctor I've never heard of, yet another person to whom I must try to explain myself.

If you ever find yourself in the position of attending someone with post traumatic stress disorder, I hope you can remember to give them love, understanding, and respectful listening. They know better than anyone what they can tolerate and what will exacerbate their post traumatic stress disorder. They already carry a heavy burden and need as much sympathy and gentleness as you can muster. Do your best.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose

SOMETIMES YOU KNOW WHAT YOU KNOW

Sunrise at the hermitage


I had surgery on one of my fingers about 4 days ago, and I am able to type...a little.

My expectation had been that they were to put me under for the surgery but the charming East Indian anesthesiologist insisted that blocking the nerves in my arm, in conjunction with some drugs that would put me to sleep, would be better, safer for me, that I wouldn't remember the procedure and I would "take a nice nap" during all of it.

I did my best to convince the anesthesiologist that this method was not best for me. I told him I had post traumatic stress disorder, but it went right over his head. I could not make myself understood. Having post traumatic stress disorder is not something one decides to have. It isn't something a person can decide NOT to have. A great deal of management is possible, of course, and part of that management is avoiding circumstances that aggravate the illness.

I was terribly concerned about waking up in the middle of surgery, which is exactly what happened, as a matter of fact. I woke up not once, but twice during the procedure, and it was gruesome.

The first time I woke up was early on in the procedure, the nice old anesthesiologist was still inserting needles into my upper arm in order to block all feeling, explaining the procedure to students as he did so.

I have a thing about needles. In grade school, the other children used to delight in watching me faint when they talked to me about needles. I would turn as white as a sheet and then fall to the floor. They loved it.

Needles have always freaked me out, and it has taken a huge amount of mental gymnastics to get me used to needles, but they still stress me out, and even a simple blood test requires so muchmental  energy to avoid fainting, I need to rest for an entire day afterward.

The second time I woke up while the surgeon was operating on the bone inside my left index finger. I wasn't wearing my eyeglasses, and I am legally blind without them, so I couldn't swear on the number of people standing around my hand, but I want to say there were 4 or 5, including the surgeon. To my right, was a different anesthesiologist, a young man, (probably an intern). He was looking down, away from the machines that were supposed to be informing him of my vital statistics. I could be wrong, but I THINK he was either reading a book or he was asleep.

I said to him, "Hey...I'm awake...put me back to sleep!" He turned around to look at the machines, reached his arm out to them and did whatever he had to do to get me back to sleep. Thanks be to God, I went back to sleep very shortly thereafter.

Being forced to undergo a type of anesthesiology  I knew would not work for me, being strapped down to a table with various machines, IV lines and straps, then waking up TWICE during the procedures was a personal nightmare for me.

Not many people understand post traumatic stress disorder. Even when I explain to them the circumstances that aggravate the illness, most people just don't get it. Some people say things that give me the impression that they think I "should be" in control of it, as if all I have to do is just decide to make it go away. Sadly, it doesn't work like that. Post traumatic stress disorder is pretty much a permanent condition.

It would have been better for me if they had put me out for the surgery, just as was promised when I first discussed the surgery with the surgeon. I wouldn't have had to wake up TWICE during the surgery, and I wouldn't have yet another traumatic series of events to add to the collection.

I knew that my fear would shoot those pain killers and other drugs right out of my system. This is why the dentist had to put me OUT to remove my tooth a few years ago, otherwise he would have had to keep shooting me up, over and over again, with Novocaine. My fear and elevated blood pressure just dissipates the drugs out of my system. I had experience with this with previous dental work. That's how I knew.

Spiritual life doesn't inoculate you from post traumatic stress disorder. It doesn't cure bipolar disorder or countless other diseases. It certainly helps one to cope, though. It gives one a platform from which to fight the sorrows and problems of life. Occasionally, there is a miracle, such as when Jesus brought Lazarus back from the dead. Those kind of things still happen, but they are the exception rather than the rule.

While I recover from the surgery and from the added load to my collection of traumatic events, while I heal from yet another instance of not being heard, I cling to the Lord. I cling to our blessed mother. Resting in her arms, I pray the rosary. At 5 O'clock in the evening, I attend the EWTN televised mass, following with my Adoremus Hymnal. While walking the dog, I pray for my neighbors, my neighborhood, my city, my state and the world. The Jesus Prayer slows my breathing as I putter around the house, doing only the most necessary chores. Throughout my day, I pray short little prayers of exasperation, hope and healing.

Gradually, I heal, and I know that everything will be alright. The surgeon didn't think it is cancer, which is a blessing. The finger is healing nicely, despite the glob of excess super-glue they used to close up the wound which, evidently, was bleeding profusely, since the super glue is clearly mixed with a lot of dark blood. I don't think there is supposed to be such a large amount of super glue, but the surgeon probably left it up to a student to close it up, and these things happen. I hope the blob of blood-colored super glue will fall off before I see the next doctor in a couple of weeks. An appointment has been made for me with a doctor I've never heard of, yet another person to whom I must try to explain myself.

If you ever find yourself in the position of attending someone with post traumatic stress disorder, I hope you can remember to give them love, understanding, and respectful listening. They know better than anyone what they can tolerate and what will exacerbate their post traumatic stress disorder. They already carry a heavy burden and need as much sympathy and gentleness as you can muster. Do your best.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

GRAB YOUR INSPIRATION WHERE YOU FIND IT


The Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament
EWTN televised mass

I used to be uninterested in televised mass. I didn't see the point. There is no Eucharist, and "spiritual communion" didn't sound like an even mildly approximate replacement, despite the fact that my spiritual temperament runs to the mystical side, and I have an easy imagination.

Mother Angelica (God rest her soul) and her creation, the Eternal Word Television Network, along with its magnificent Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament have lightened this little hermit's world to a degree I did not imagine possible.

I began watching the 5:00 mass from a sense of duty, really. It just came to me. Or perhaps the Lord led me there. In any case, the timing is perfect. I generally take tea at 4 p.m. at the end of the day's exertions. An hour later, after refreshment and spiritual reading, I feel the tranquilIty of evening beginning to descend.

The mass is just beautiful. I happened to have a copy of the ADOREMUS HYMNAL, and I have no idea where I obtained it. Somehow it appeared in my books. The mass is about half Latin chant, half English, and the hymns, so far, are lovely. The version I have is out of date, and I have to shuffle around through the pages a bit, as a result, but since I am alone in the room, I needn't worry about disturbing other worshippers.

The mass is conducted in what seems to be a small chapel, probably just off of the main Shrine. You can see the picture, above. It is very beautiful and golden, but simple at the same time.  The mass is conducted with great reverence and beauty. There is no clapping, thanks be to God, no talking amongst the people in the congregation, and a certain gentleness pervades throughout.

I found myself being drawn into the mass. There, in my living room, I am learning the Latin chant, singing the hymns at full voice, and participating in all the responses and prayers. The spiritual communion is growing on me.

After only a few days, I've begun to anticipate 5:00 p.m. mass every day. It has quietly begun to smooth me into a rhythm that I haven't been able to establish on my own. Soon, I found myself scheduling reminders on the television set, but I suspect I will not need them.

When I was young, I was terribly disciplined. As an older lady, I am humbled with chronic pain, mobility issues and other problems. Things are quite different now, and I must find my inspirations and organizations where I can. Thanks be to God, he sends me enough aid to keep me on track.

For all the other elderly hermits out there, I recommend the televised mass on EWTN. In younger days, we may have made pilgrimage to the place: just hopped into the car and driven there over miles and days. Instead, we drive our recliners to a virtual wonderland of inspiration in a heavenly land.

Get the Adoremus Hymnal so you can fully participate, and you won't regret it.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose

Monday, October 17, 2016

GETTING OUT OF BED HAS BECOME AN ART

Sunset at the hermitage


In the sunset of my life, I am finding the simplest things most difficult. Getting in and out of bed, for instance, is a production, which is probably why I sleep so often in my recliner. I get a much better, much deeper and more restorative sleep, however, if I sleep in the bed, a bed, I might add, that cost me a fortune and took two years to pay for.

The problem is that, if I DO get a good night's sleep or 8 or 10 hours straight through, I wake with my lower spine and hips frozen in pain if I move. If I just lay there, I am alright. The mornings are beautiful and I can pray the time away, but at some time I have to get up, and this is when the morning comedy show begins.




All the icons appeared to be staring at me while I tried to wriggle myself out of bed one morning. The night before, I had finally put together a rolling bed cart so I could bring the computer into the bedroom on some evenings when the Pope is engaged in some special event and I want to see it on EWTN at 3:00 in the morning or whatever odd time of the early morning it had to be shown, due to time differences around the world. It is an inconvenience, but there is something wonderful about being included in an event as it happens.

The cart was blocking the side of the bed which I customarily use to crawl out in the morning, but it didn't occur to me that I might not be able to get out of bed on the other side.

Feeling very much like Kafka's cockroach, I wriggled and squirmed, trying to find a position that would allow me to exit the bed without wrenching my back and causing even more damage to it. It took a good ten minutes before my feet found the floor, finally, and I began the customary production involved in straightening my back.

It is on day's like this that I am grateful to be living alone, with no one to see my comedic stylings in my pajamas...no one except the Lord, of course.

Please pray for me, as I pray for you.

Silver Rose

Saturday, October 15, 2016

ONE RINGY DINGY



I have lived as a religious hermit for about 13 years. I became disabled before becoming Catholic, and I have been mostly housebound ever since.

Frequently, a hermit will enter into a relationship with a spiritual director, especially in the beginning and especially if the hermit is unfamiliar with monastic life.  Although I have lived a self-consecrated life devoted exclusively to God since 2003, and since I had several years of experience in monastic life prior to that, I wondered if I should attempt to find a spiritual director and if I should take more formal vows and increase my commitment, so, about a year ago, I started making telephone calls to vocation directors on the vocation committee for this dioceses.

What I did not know is that you practically have to be a rock star to get someone in the archdiocese to return your telephone call! According to someone "in the know," you have to be a known person to someone in the parish, otherwise the Catholic hierarchy ignores you, no matter how many emails you send, phone calls you make or letters you write. At the very least, you have to have a priest, a sister in a significant ministry, or someone IMPORTANT to champion you. Even a hard working layperson in long term ministry does not have enough Catholic currency to warrant a response to a heart-felt email on my behalf. She's not part of the Catholic hierarchy, so she doesn't warrant a response.

A year ago,  I did manage to reach a sister on the vocations committee, Lisa Marie Doty, on her cell phone that was given to me by a sister who has previously held that position. She promised me she would get in touch with our new bishop to see if he was inclined to have diocesan hermits among his flock. She also promised to find me a spiritual director. She then proceeded to duck every phone call and refused to return any of my telephone messages. That was last October, exactly one year ago on the 19th.

After my failure with Sister Lisa Marie Doty, I sent many emails and left many telephone messages for a long list of people at the Dioceses, from the Bishop's office on downward. No luck. No response. Two months ago I managed to connect with a lovely woman, Monica Justice, who is the assistant to Father Daniel, who, she tells me, is the person to speak with in regard to my situation. I left 4 messages with her and never received a response from Father Daniel. During my last telephone message, I asked her to call me back and tell me if I was doing something wrong or pursuing something inappropriately. No response.

Not returning telephone calls used to be considered very bad manners in days gone by, but I am afraid that it is endemic in our society. I don't know why this has happened, whether it is a sign of the times or a sign of my reduced circumstances in life. In my 20's, when I was writing for a powerful television producer, I don't recall my messages ever going unanswered. People wanted things from me. Now, I have nothing to offer but prayers, something which has no currency, even in the world of the professional religious.





I have a long list of telephone numbers and email addresses to which I have sent requests for help and none of them have responded over many months' time.

I was raised without religion and was in my late 30's before I learned anything about Jesus. From that time forward, gaining access to the Catholic Church was problematic.  I wanted to get baptized immediately, but a misinformed religious sister told me it would be YEARS before I could be baptized with the Catholic Church because, in the past, I had been divorced. She was terribly wrong. I was not living in any kind of irregular union and there was no reason not to be baptized, but there seems to be a strong elitist faction in the official church that thrives on pushing people away. (Baptism, for those that do not know, washes away all sin, and non-sacramental unions between people who haven't been baptized are NOT the types of unions that cannot be dissolved. The Catholic laws about divorce deal with "sacramental marriage" between baptized persons.)

Indeed, the religious sister that refused me baptism in the church behaved as if she enjoyed the power to say "no." I have to say that, in later years, I did learn that many Catholics are terribly ill-educated about the church, so I am not saying that this sister was deliberately lying, just that she seemed to enjoy pushing me away, thinking at the same time she was right to do so.

Eventually, another sister, an 11th cousin of mine, who DID know the Canon laws, helped to get me accepted into the Church, but even with her advocacy, I had a terrible time getting into the church.. Because of my disabilities, I had to have private instruction rather than attend an RCIA class. I couldn't sit through the classes and couldn't drive at night. Although the priest of the Byzantine Church I was attending gave permission for my cousin to walk me through the lacunas in my education, the deacon refused to allow it because he was in the middle of pursuing his career as a priest and said he didn't have time to help at all.

I am blessed to know many highly respectable, extremely kind Catholic lay people who have adopted me as their own and treat me like part of their families. My survival would be severely curtailed, were it not for my Catholic family, and I would have little, if any feeling of community without them.

These experiences just further my resolve to pray for the strengthening of the Catholic Church because, while I am disappointed in the Church's failure to include the marginalized, the poor, the disabled and the abandoned in the workings of the institution, I am absolutely convinced of THE FAITH, which is sublime.




There is a great wealth of spiritual currency amongst the marginalized members of the church, the lonely old ladies, the disabled, unmarried people, and many converts whose friends and families have abandoned them because of their faith. The man who came to fix my telephone service the other day told me that I remind him of his auntie who, when she retired, announced that she would be spending the rest of her life for the Lord. She too has a large prayer corner and altar, with statues and pictures all over the place. I'm sure she recites many prayers throughout the day and, like me, probably watches the mass on EWTN, reads the spiritual books and prays for everyone.

The natural inclination among retired people, especially those who find themselves alone and often disabled, is to throw themselves on the mercy of the Lord, and I know that I have many, many readers in that group

I want to ENCOURAGE my readers who are likewise living the eremitic life and to affirm the necessity of persistence against whatever obstacle appears to be standing in your way, either in the living of the life or the rejection of you by those in power in your parish or your diocese. Just remember what Jesus said, "Forgive them, Lord, for they know not what they do."

You DO have spiritual power and importance. Your prayers that you conduct privately in your homes, in the dead of night when you cannot sleep, in your heart when you are washing the pots and pans, these prayers, devotions and pains offered up to the Lord are beloved by the Lord, and your efforts are not in vain. None of us needs the permission of anyone to lead a life completely devoted to prayer. While true that many of us could benefit from spiritual direction from a reputable and soulful spiritual director, we have to have the faith that the Lord will take care of us, knowing our needs of every variety.

As long as we live a good Christian life and remain faithful to Catholic theology, we can't go wrong. I would insert a word of caution here, and that is that it is important that we do not entertain any spirit of anger or rebellion and that we are very careful to continue to educate ourselves in the doctors of the church, the Catechism, and the Bible.  Contributing to ersatz apparitions and seers that are not approved by the Catholic Church should NOT be done. Without the leadership of a spiritual director, we must play it safe, rather than be sorry later. We can never put ourselves forward as knowing a better way than the way the Church has outlined in faith and morals.

Just because fallible human beings populate the structure of the Holy Catholic Church and mistakes are made, I, for one, am convinced that it is essential to remain faithful to its requirements. While I am upset that no one in the church will return a telephone call from an unimportant Catholic with no 'pull', my obedience to and love of the church remains as strong as ever. I think the best approach is to continue on my own, trusting in the Lord to guide me. After all, if He thought I needed the cooperation of the Church in my prayer mission, He would have paved the way for it.





Let us stand together in solidarity with one another and pray for one another in our solitary lives. I would like to suggest that we offer prayers for one another at regular times throughout the day, to our best ability.

Generally speaking, I say prayers at noon, three o'clock and six o'clock. I also say "morning prayers" at whatever time I manage to arise, and evening prayers. Morning prayers would customarily be 6 a.m., but I am having some sleep problems just now and cannot manage to get up in the morning as my medications don't permit it. I have many rosaries and chaplets that I recite also, with some corresponding prayers.

If you are interested in praying "with" me at the same time, please contact me and we can work something out. I feel that this extra layer of prayer will bring a measure of strength into our spiritual practice.

Together, we can create our own support for our spiritual lives, absent the care and concern of the institutional church.

In the meantime, please pray for me as I pray for you.

God bless us all!

Silver Rose Parnell


Friday, October 14, 2016

WHY DIDN'T TRUMP ACCUSERS COME FORWARD EARLIER?

Me at 24
Copyright (c) 1978
Silver Parnell

In 1974, when I was 20 years old, I got a job working for an executive at E.F. Hutton. It was a frightening environment. I was the only woman in our office, the rest of them being commodity traders and one executive who ran the department. Many lunch hours, the men would retire to the conference room, draw the blinds closed against the glass partition, and watch pornographic films with the sound turned up really high. The men hooted and hollered, uttering horribly vulgar comments that STILL make me blush, 38 years later.

I was desperate for work. Unmarried, with no helpful family connections, I was alone in the big city of Los Angeles, trying to keep a roof over my head.

One of the men noticed that I was taking the bus home every night and he offered me a ride home. I was too innocent to realize that he had an ulterior motive. It did not occur to me that this elderly portly man with a wispy comb over, someone who engendered daughterly feelings in me, would attempt to force me into having sex with him. Fortunately, I escaped the car with my virtue intact, but the experience shook me, and I began to look for another job.

Shortly thereafter, the head of the department asked me to spend the weekend with him in Las Vegas. I demurred. He fired me. Later, when I tried to get work in the same industry. I found that he had blackballed me and was publicly excoriated when I showed up for an appointment at another investment firm. Before the interview even occurred, the man who was to interview me loudly proclaimed, in a room full of people, that my previous boss had told him I was lazy and stupid and other character assassinations. The eyes of about 20 people were on me, and you could have heard a pin drop. I'm sure my face was flaming red. I couldn't even defend myself, I was so shocked. I turned heel and fled, like a dog with my tail between my legs.

I was humiliated by this experience. It did serious damage to my sense of safety in the world and contributed to the development of some post traumatic stress.

Never did I even mention these experiences to anyone until recently. It has taken me this long to realize that the truth will set me free.

Donald Trump supporters complain that the numerous women who have come forward to recount experiences of being assaulted by Donald Trump have not told their stories publicly until now and that, therefore, they are either looking for fame or money. Alternately, he has accused them of being part of a great conspiracy, either by the Clinton campaign or the media, depending on which speech you hear.

One of Mr. Trump's accusers recounts her experience of being assaulted on an airplane when sat next to him. He now says that the public should take a look at her, that she would not be his "first choice" - insinuating that she isn't attractive enough to assault.  Well, her assault happened right about the time that I was being fired for refusing to spend a weekend with my married boss. Just as I did not make public my boss's outrageous behavior, she did not complain about Trump assaulting her. She knew that if she complained, she would experience retaliation. It happened A LOT in those days.

None of us want the negative attention we would get by bringing these things into the public eye, but when the predator lies in public and says he never assaulted anyone, and he's running for the most powerful job in the world, one's sense of civil duty outweighs the price the victim will have to pay for coming forward.

Silver "Rose" Parnell
(c) Copyright 2016
All rights reserved

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

JUST RELAX



If someone points out a defect in your favorite political candidate, and you feel a violent reaction; if you feel like taking a baseball bat to their head or pouring a rain of insults all over them; take a deep breath, take a step back, and maybe take a walk. Do whatever will calm you. RESIST that urge to go nuts on your friend and destroy the friendship with ugly personal insults.

Realize that, for some reason, you feel identified with the candidate to the extent that you are willing to go all scorched earth in other areas of your life, and understand that something is out of balance because you've taken the bad news personally. You have to remember that you are not married to the candidate, and you have to respect that every one of your Christian brothers and sisters has to exercise their own conscience and prudential judgment, which may not comport with yours.

Discussion can be fruitful, if calm and reasoned. It is especially important to exchange facts for facts and to avoid attacking the character of the person whose political decisions are not the same as yours.

There is an erroneous strain of thought some have adopted that if you do not vote for the Republican Candidate, you are committing a horrible sin and should be denied communion. This is ridiculous. It does not represent the position of the Catholic Church.

Pope Benedict, when he was Cardinal Ratzinger, and the Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, outlined the position of the Catholic Church, as follows:




"A Catholic would be guilty of formal cooperation in evil,
and so unworthy to present himself for Holy Communion,
if he were to deliberately vote for a candidate precisely
because of the candidate's permissive stand on abortion
and/or euthanasia. When a Catholic does not share a
candidate's permissive stand on abortion and/or
euthanasia, but votes for that candidate for other
reasons, it is considered remote material
cooperation, which can be permitted in the
presence of proportionate reasons."
Cardinal Ratzinger, 
Prefect for the Congregation
for the doctrine of the faith

I would customarily be voting for a pro-life candidate, except that the Republican offering this year appears to be a crazy man, insecure, vengeful, with a fascist world view. He actually threatened to throw his competitor in jail, were he to win the prize of the presidency. He treats women, minorities and the disabled with contempt, publicly mocking them and calling them names. We've all heard the vulgar conversation between him and Billy Bush of Access Hollywood, wherein he bragged about assaulting women. He recently denied having actually assaulted anyone, calling his words "locker room talk," but there is ample evidence that he had a reputation for many years of actually having assaulted women. He trotted out 4 women with complaints against Bill Clinton (who is not running for office), making the EWW factor much worse, during the 2nd debate.

In addition, the fact checking organizations have blown apart most of his assertions, giving him a 73% to 76% score of lies. Satan is the father of lies, and, although I realize that many politicians are liars these days, the lies that Donald Trump dishes out are incendiary. They are calculated to inflame his "base," which appears to be a bunch of really angry people. He expressed admiration for Putin as a leader (he's a dictator), and he invited "Russia" to hack our computer systems.

Most telling is that Trump is no longer working within the framework of his supposed party, calling them names and tweeting angry rants at 3 in the morning. Many Republicans that previously endorsed him have rescinded their endorsements and are distancing themselves from him.

Hilary Clinton is almost certainly the next president, but, as one Republican political analyst recently opined, we will outlive Clinton. We know how to deal with Clinton. We have no idea how to handle Trump, if he COULD be handled at all. I envision him insulting world leaders and getting us into a nuclear war.

Trump's promise to install good justices just isn't enough to justify voting for the evil man he appears to be. The damage he will do far outweighs the slim chance that he will keep his promises in the pro-life area. Keep in mind, he promised to release his tax returns upon getting the nomination, and as soon as he was nominated, he refused and continues to refuse. He doesn't keep his promises, and he is hiding something, probably another lie.

So, that is my thinking on this season's political offerings.

ON THE OTHER HAND, I understand why some people might vote for him. Several of my friends are voting for him because they are hoping that he will keep his promise by installing pro-life justices to the supreme court and by working on overturning Roe v. Wade. I notice, however, that he rarely talks about the pro-life issues and, when he does, he has no fire in the belly for the cause. 

Another thing to consider...we have had many supposedly "pro-life" presidents in the past, and abortion is STILL legal. It appears that people like Trump use the promise of a pro-life position to expand their base. I just don't believe him. Some people are willing to take the chance, and that's OK. I won't be calling them names.

Most of all, I recommend that we ALL remember the promises of Christ. We know how this story ends, in the long run, and all we can do in the meantime is the best we can, given the circumstances in which we find ourselves, no matter how contradictory and crazy. Most important is that all Christians have to hang together and avoid tearing apart the body of Christ because of political differences.

Stay calm, people.

God bless,
Silver Rose Parnell


Sunday, October 9, 2016

DONALD TRUMP'S APOLOGY

In younger, more innocent years




I have to add one more comment to my last blog post.

Many people on the internet are excusing Donald Trump's behavior and saying things to the effect that no one should judge a person and he's apologized and so we should be good Christians and forgive him and they are going to vote for him, still, after everything we have heard from this man, both recently and in the past.

Some women have been filmed and televised saying that "all men talk this way." All men do not talk this way. Some men do, and I will tell you who they are.

The four (4) adult men who drugged, gang raped me and left me to die in a river when I was 14, they talked that way while they savaged me. The head of the commodities department of a well known but now defunct investment firm who fired me for refusing to go to Las Vegas with him for the weekend when I was 20 years old talked this way. All of my male co-workers at that investment firm who spent their lunch hours locked in the conference room watching pornographic films while they hooted and hollered, they spoke like Donald Trump. The Hollywood producer who refused to hire an actress friend of mine who wouldn't sleep with him in exchange for a television role used to talk that way. The man who kidnapped, tortured and tried to murder me and then chased me across three states when I finally escaped, HE talked that way during the numerous assaults.

I am very familiar with the type of man who lewdly boasts about his assaults and attempted assaults of women.

Donald Trump's attitude and treatment of women has been consistent, from that cringe worthy tape released the other evening, to his disgusting sideways joke about a woman's menstrual period on the stage of the first debate itself. His hateful attitude toward half the population of the world, revealed in his language and actions, is shared by rapists, pornographers and murderers.

The good men I have known in my life do not speak this way.

There are many good men in our country; fine, intelligent men with heart and courage. They do not have to apologize for their treatment of women. I am of the strong opinion that it is THIS type of man that we need in the White House.

Silver Rose Parnell
Copyright (c) 2016

Some related articles:

FACT CHECKING DONALD TRUMP - 76% LIES

LOS ANGELES TIMES - DONALD TRUMPS LONG RECORD...

UTAH PAGEANT WINNER GROPED BY TRUMP

HOLLYWOOD REPORTER ARTICLE ABOUT DONALD TRUMP'S "CREEPY" BEHAVIOR WITH WOMEN

DONALD TRUMP LIES HIS WAY THROUGH THE SECOND DEBATE