Yeah, that’s stale news.
Confession: I’ve said I love the number 7 as my lucky number, but I always kinda loved 13 as much or more and claim it as my luckiest number. That does not mean, given all the baggage – historical, cultural, social, etc. – that goes with that number that I don’t have some dread about 13th floors, Friday the 13th and so on. (Jason Voorhees in Friday the 13th part 2, the first of the series I watched, nearly terrified me off horror movies for good.)
Where I am sitting at this moment it’s still Friday, October 13 , and that fact made me forget how I was feeling and drag myself to a church this afternoon. The reasons why I love 13 have to do with my faith orientation. (Something I post about occasionally on this blog, not to proselytize or snare anybody’s soul, but because it is part of the make-up of me, as is my Caribbean/Saint Lucian identity, immigrant status, Daniel/family genes, etc.)
I walked in with a friend and a bas-relief of Jesus and his 12 apostles (13 people) greeted us at the entrance. A bit further into the church and there was a statue of Saint Anthony, whose feast day is June 13 and whom I have a particular devotion to. (Yep: I devoured Greek mythology, over-consumed African folk tales and Caribbean oral literature growing up and I now like a lot of the Catholic mythology.) Anyway, the draw of church today was this October 13 being the 100th anniversary of the last Fatima apparition and the Miracle of the Sun – an event that the recorded newspaper accounts and other histories can sway a stubborn mind to the side of believing these eyewitness reports have more to them then mere group histrionics or mass hysteria.
I know, this is not your typical Friday night post, but my mood is light and happy, as if I was enjoying a night out on the town. It has something to do with going to confession. I thought I had a burden of bad things to put down, in this essentially free and confidential spiritual therapy-like sessions. I am always bowled over by the gentleness, kindness, compassion and genuine caring, non-judgmental nature of the priests I encounter in the confessional. So my latest confessor, hearing all the bad things I have done, cut me short with a finger wagging and a sharp, “Listen to me, you’re being too hard on yourself.” And for my penance asked me to go read Psalm 103 (you’ll find a 13 in there somewhere if you look hard enough). I just found it so beautiful, so consoling reading this that I had to share. In case someone else will find it soothing.
The Lord is compassionate and gracious,
slow to anger, abounding in love.
9 He will not always accuse,
nor will he harbor his anger forever;
10 he does not treat us as our sins deserve
or repay us according to our iniquities.
11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his love for those who fear him;
12 as far as the east is from the west,
so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
13 As a father has compassion on his children,
so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him;
14 for he knows how we are formed,
he remembers that we are dust.
Update, Saturday the 14th: Note that ‘fear’ here does not mean bone trembling terror but awe, respect, reverence, and such like.
Below is a reblog of my post from this day last year. My sentiments are still the same in 2017. I am thankful for the grace of one more year with all its highs and lows and the learning these allowed. What I am most thankful for is your support of my blog.
It’s Thanksgiving where I am, with a day off tomorrow. Thank you God of days, turkey feasts, vegetarian options, and holidays from work.
I want to thank all my e-friends, people who read my blog, those who come back regularly and those who always like me -meaning my posts. I like you back and more, everybody I have bumped into in the blogosphere. I like people, even- or especially – when nobody else likes them. If you read my blog, follow me, like my posts, etc. and I have not returned the love, it’s just an issue of time, or rather, only a matter of time. With all my heart, I thank you for your gesture of support.
The Saint Lucia National Trust wishes to announce the closure of Walcott House as of today, May 31st and until such further notice.
This decision has regrettably been taken due to a number of funding cuts resulting in the Trust no longer being able to fund the operations of this memorial space in honour of artistic icons, the late Derek and Roderick Walcott, and their family.
The vision of creating a museum using the childhood home of Derek and Roderick was held for many decades, particularly as the house converted into the Lithographic Press and eventually abandoned and fallen into ruin. The property at 17 Chaussée Rd was eventually acquired and in 2006, the Government vested the property to the Trust with the mandate of creating a museum.
In 2008, the concept of the house museum was included in the Vision Plan Document of the Government. While no physical…
View original post 876 more words