Catholic Writing and Publishing – Page 23

Visiting Homebound Elder-Catholics—A Privilege and Sometimes, an Unexpected Challenge

December 6, 2016/0 Comments/in Blogging, Catholic Theme, Catholic Writing and Publishing, Inspirational/by Larry Peterson

I have been an EMHC (Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion) for over twenty years. I have had the honor and privilege of bringing Holy Communion to many people in many places: hospitals, nursing homes, hospice centers, assisted living facilities,and, of course, to the homebound. I love being part of this ministry and it has brought me in touch with some amazing people who have lived their Catholic lives quietly, faithfully and without fanfare or notoriety.

Most of those I visit are Elder-Catholics.These are the Catholic faithful who have, throughout their lives, supported their church, been active in various ministries and carried on the faith that was and still is, part of their very being. Some were born into the Faith and it was nurtured in them by their parents and oftentimes by nuns, brothers, priests and Catholic laypersons. They in turn have passed it on to their own children. Some found the faith as adults and converted. (I so admire those people.) And so, as is the way of things, the Church continues.

I would like to share a story about one of these people. His name is John. I have been bringing Holy Communion to John every Sunday for a little more than a year. He is ninety years old, an Army veteran who spent almost thirty years in the Far East and was married for sixty years. His wife, Mary, passed away several years ago. He loved her dearly and misses her greatly. John is not delusional, or suffering from dementia or anything like that. His mind is sharp and clear. Physically, John is deaf (hearing aids help a tiny bit) and wheelchair bound.

When I arrive at his front door, I push the doorbell. I hear a chime; he does not. Inside, several strobe lights begin to flash, notifying him someone is at the door. He is expecting me and the front door is unlocked. I walk in and he gives out a big, “Hey, hey, good morning.”

I more or less holler back, “Hey John, how you doing today?”

He is always wearing a smile. He says, “Well, I’m still here.” We both laugh.

John is facing a dilemma. He picks up the newspaper from a few days before and points to a story. “Have you gotten any feedback on this?” I look at the paper he has opened to an article dealing with the church’s newly revised guidelines on cremation. I shrug and tell him I have not. He says, “I have a problem and maybe you can help me out. I need some guidance.”

I am not “Father Larry” or “Deacon Larry”…I’m just Larry. I immediately feel a bit insecure because I do not like telling folks what they should or should not do when it comes to their personal faith issues. I quietly ask the Holy Spirit to quickly help me out. Then I say, “I’ll try, John. But I may not be able to. I will go to Father Anthony and ask him if necessary.”

Being part of this ministry can have unexpected rewards. God was about to bless me with a glimpse into the hearts of two Catholics, a man and a woman, people of faith who married in the faith and lived it and who shared a love that did not die upon the death of one–rather, it simply continued and still existed. John says to me, “You know, I am upset about this article. It says we Catholics must bury the ashes of loved ones in sacred ground.”

I said, “That isn’t anything new. Some folks are scattering ashes over the Gulf of Mexico or off mountaintops or sharing them among family members. Those kinds of things are not approved of.”

“Look”, he says. “I have Mary’s ashes here with me. I talk to her every day. I’m all alone and I feel she never really left and I get such comfort from that. Do I have to get her over to the cemetery?”

I’m looking at him and tears are filling his eyes. He wants to be a GOOD Catholic man and he loves his wife and wants to be loyal to her. He will give her up if the Church requires it even though the pain he will feel is unimaginable. It did not matter. He would be true to his faith no matter what. I was looking at a man who would have gladly embraced a martyr’s crown if he had been called upon to do so.

I knew that cremated remains are supposed to be kept intact and placed in a proper vessel. Nervously I began to answer but he continued. “I have a spot down at the VA for both of us. I made arrangements with the funeral home and when I pass they are going to take us together down to the VA and bury us next to each other.”

I breathed a sigh of great relief. Casting doubt to the wind, I told him, “John, that is great. She can stay here with you. She is encased in a vessel and is scheduled for burial. You will make the trip to the VA together. Don’t worry about a thing.”

I will never forget the smile that broke out across his face. I’m not sure if I gave him proper “guidance.” No matter; in this case I am sure the Holy Spirit helped me out. I will check with the priest when I see him.

My Yearly Faith Challenge: The Annual Prostate Exam

November 1, 2016/1 Comment/in Catholic Writing and Publishing, Faith, Hope/by Larry Peterson

October was Breast Cancer Awareness Month across the nation. This is a good and noble fight and I am glad that “pink” is everywhere down to the shoes and wrist bands the NFL players wear to the pink bats MLB players use. But I would like to share about a cancer that is not talked about very much. I would like to share about the second leading cancer killer among men–prostate cancer. (Lung cancer is the leading killer of both men and women in the USA). The following is personal aka”about me.”

I remember it like it was yesterday. The doctor waltzed into the exam room and matter of factly said, “Well, you have a cancer in the prostate.”

As he stood there flipping through and staring at the sheets on his clipboard, I was thinking—Huh? What? Wait a minute—Huh? Then came the frightened stare as I looked at this guy who in the briefest of moments had changed my life with unexpected news about ME. Cancer? No way!

It had not been a knockout punch but I had surely been sly-rapped and dazed. He calmed me down and, as I slowly cleared my head, he said, “Don’t worry, Larry. We did twelve cuts when we biopsied and there was cancer only in one. I think we found it early. I recommend you get it out now and you will most likely be finished with it.”

That was in March of 2007. On May 10 of that year I underwent a radical prostatectomy. Robotic surgery was brand new and unavailable to me so I had it done the “old-fashioned” way, by hand. They took it out. All of it. I have been cancer free ever since, with some residual side effects (another story for another day). So what is my faith challenge?

My annual checkup is every September. Every year, as the day approaches, the anxiety in me builds. I cannot help it. I have never forgotten that initial announcement about my having “a” cancer. Anyway, the protocol is that I go for a PSA one week week and the following week I see the Doc for the results.

The results have to be .003, yes, ZERO, and then I can breathe easy and go home for another year. So far, the results have been ZERO, nine years in a row. That is considered ‘probably’ cured. Praise the Lord, right?

That is my challenge. I like to consider myself a man of faith. “Trust in the Lord with all of your heart,” right? I have this illusion that I do, but when it comes to this damn yearly test I get weak in the knees. I can’t shake it. Maybe I am a “man of faith” only when everything is hunky-dory. In other words, my “faith” is not nearly as strong as I may think it is. Am I a faith wuss?

I don’t know. I just want to go to the doctor like I’m going for a haircut and not give it a second thought. I tell myself God has my back. I think I believe that no matter what happens, it fits into God’s plan. Jesus loves me, I’m sure of it. So whatever is my problem? Is my faith journey all smoke and mirrors?

Here are a few numbers. One in seven American men will have prostate cancer during his lifetime. It is the second leading cause of cancer death among American men. Every 20 minutes another American man dies of prostate cancer, which factors out to 71 deaths per day. That means 26,120 men will die this year from this type of cancer. Early detection is the key to survival.

Next March I will be ten years out from my diagnosis. I should be kicking my heels and jumping for joy. Don’t get me wrong; I do thank God every day for my good health and cancer-free existence. I just think that I should be able to ignore the possible downside to my test results.

Maybe it is all part of the human equation. We just can’t help recoiling when confronted with our own mortality. My faith has, without a doubt, carried me through this and all aspects of my life. I have been blessed and I hope the Good Lord has patience for a faith wuss such as me.

There is one glaring fact that is as obvious to me as the sun shining on a clear summer day. Until I draw my last breath, my faith journey will always be a work in progress and I shall never take it for granted.

By the way–the color for prostate cancer awareness is pale blue or powder blue. Not many people know that.

There is a Crisis of “Fatherless” Children in America; We Should Turn to St. Joseph for Help

October 4, 2016/0 Comments/in Catholic Writing and Publishing/by Larry Peterson

by Larry Peterson

I call St. Joseph the “Shadow Saint.” That is because so little is known about him. He never spoke a word that was recorded. He never wrote anything that was saved on parchment. It does not matter. This young man, a “righteous Jew” true to the law, was confronted with being engaged to a woman pregnant with someone else’s child. The reality was a terrible thing for him to bear.

But Joseph was a man of faith and God was with him. The penalty for his betrothed could have been death by stoning. Joseph would have none of that. His Mary would not be harmed. He loved her. So he took her in and married her. The child she carried would be his.

St. Joseph’s example of selflessness is something that needs to be talked about with admiration, respect and pride. It might be used as a guide for so many who have, in this secular-driven world, fathered children and then abandoned them.

There is a crisis of “fatherless” children in America. Next to the disrespect and disregard for unborn life, this could be the most dangerous threat to our society. “Fatherlessness” is an ongoing tragedy that can find its roots planted when Roe vs. Wade was passed in 1973. When the destruction of human life was legalized, the downward spiral of respect for life followed.

"There is a crisis of Fatherless Children in America. We should turn to St. Joseph for help." by Larry Peterson for Catholic Writers Guild blog

By BeniCufi (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Statistics show that in fatherless homes poverty is four times higher than average, teen pregnancy increases by a multiple of seven, abuse and neglect are much more widespread, and drug use is more prevalent. The list goes on and on. There is a “father factor” involved in virtually all aspects of American life today. Yes, many homes still have fathers, but many children live in homes with absentee fathers and the societal effects are felt all across the spectrum of American life.

St. Joseph could be used as a shining example for all men to emulate. He was poor, he was chaste and he respected women, especially his teenage bride. He was a man of faith and stayed true to the laws of God and man. Foremost in his life was his faith in God. This was his strength. This is what fortified him. This is what is missing in so many lives today.

Joseph of Nazareth is an example of how one should respect the law. We could explain to young people how he had to put his teenage pregnant wife on the back of a donkey and then walk over rocky, dusty roads for over 80 miles, a journey that probably took three days. And why did he do this? He did this because he was required to go to Bethlehem for the census. It was the law.

The story of young Joseph, taking his teenage wife and baby boy and escaping Bethlehem because King Herod wanted to kill his son, Jesus, would make any young person’s pulse amp up. The poor guy’s child was being hunted by Herod’s soldiers. His wife was recovering from childbirth. He had to make it to Egypt. And he did…for his family. This is what a REAL man would do, or at least try to do.

Joseph did whatever he had to do to take care of his wife and son. He worked hard to keep a roof over their heads, to feed them, clothe them, and protect them. He did not care about himself. His family came first, no matter what. He would have gladly died for them if necessary. He was a real MAN. His sacrifice and efforts for his wife and son allowed them to survive so that the salvific narrative would be fulfilled. We owe him so much.

His faith, courage, integrity and love of God resonate like the smashing of cymbals and the banging of drums for all of us to listen to. We need to follow his example. We need to celebrate his life. We need to honor his commitment to his responsibilities. We should cherish his devotion to family.

I realize the possibility of teaching about this quiet hero in public schools might be a pipe dream but I would hope Catholic schools would use him as an example for students to look up to and respect as a role model for what a husband and dad should try to be like.

St. Joseph, two thousand years after his death, is still the finest role model for not only husbands and fathers, but for all men for all time.

Addendum: Re: Election 2016: I am keeping it simple. I will heed the words of Pope St. John Paul II; “A nation that kills its own children is a nation without hope.”

At this time there is only one candidate that has a pro-life agenda. That person will get my vote. End of story.

The “Protector” Saint of the Mexican Border*

September 6, 2016/1 Comment/in Catholic Writing and Publishing, Current events, Defending the Faith/by Larry Peterson

By Larry Peterson

Since there is so much discussion about the Mexican border I thought I would share this column I wrote about two months ago. Meet St.Toribio Romo,The Protector of the Mexican Border.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometime during the early summer of 1973, Jesus Gaytan and two friends began making their way north to the United States. They were planning to ‘”sneak” across the border and find work as farmhands. They did not care where, they just wanted to work.

At the border their plans quickly unraveled. They were spotted by the Border Patrol and, frightened, ran back toward Mexico. Jesus became separated from his friends and began wandering around the desert. He had no idea where he was. After several days of walking and wandering and without any food or water left, Jesus was sure he would die.

As he stared across the bleak landscape peering through the undulating heat waves rising from the ground, he saw a pickup truck coming his way. Not knowing who was approaching, he became instantly afraid and yet also relieved. The truck pulled up and a young man with light skin and blue eyes stepped out. He smiled and gave Jesus food and water. Then he directed him to a nearby farm where they needed workers. He also gave Jesus a few dollars to keep in his pocket. Jesus thanked him profusely and asked him where he could return the money to him.

Speaking perfect Spanish the man said to him, “When you finally get a job and money, look for me in Santa Ana de Guadalupe, Jalisco. Ask for Toribio Romo.”

And so the story goes that years later Jesus Gaytan did make that trip to Santa Ana de Gaudalupe. When he arrived he asked how he could find Toribio Romo. He was directed to the small church nearby. Hanging on the outside of the chapel was a large picture. Jesus stared wide-eyed looking up at the picture. It was the man from the desert, Toribio Romo.

Jesus had arrived at Toribio’s shrine where his remains were kept. He was shocked to learn that the man who had helped him in the desert 20 years before had been beatified in 1992 by Pope John Paul II. He was doubly shocked that his rescuer had been murdered in 1928 during the Cristero War. Jesus Gaytan realized he had been saved by a man sent from heaven.

Luciano Lopez tells of being on his way to Colorado to find work when he got lost in the encapsulating heat of the Arizona desert. Luciano tells of seeing a “shadowy” figure standing next to what appeared to be an ocean. Luciano told how the person waved him to him and how he began walking. He was led right to a rest-stop with food and water and he was saved. When he told his wife back in Mexico she said, “It was St. Toribio, the migrant-smuggling saint, leading you to safety. I have been praying to him for your well-being.”

Toribio Romo was born on April 16, 1900 in Santa Ana de Guadalupe, Jalisco, Mexico. He was, with permission from the bishop, ordained a priest at the young age of 22. His age did not matter to the authorities. The anti-religious Constitution of Mexico had been enacted in 1917. Toribio may have been only 22 but he was immediately placed under watch by the government. Then along came the fateful year of 1927. That was the year that the Catholic hating president of Mexico, Plutarco Ellas Cartes, ordered his soldiers to strictly enforce the anti-religious Constitution of 1917.

Besides saying Mass “under the radar” and making sick calls and hearing confessions, Father Toribio had also been teaching catechism to both children and adults. Now he was told to confine himself to his residence and to not say the Rosary in public or offer Mass. The young priest took up refuge in an old factory near a town called Agua Caliente. Here he defied the secular authority and celebrated Mass and tended to his ministry the best he could.

On February 22, 1928, Father Toribio, began organizing his parish registry. He finished doing that on February 24. Father Toribio knew the danger he was in and he was afraid. He prayed daily for God’s grace and strength but would not let his fears stop him from doing his work. It was 4:00 am on February 25 when the young priest climbed into his bed to get some sleep.

An hour later government troops stormed the place and broke into the priest’s bedroom. One soldier shouted, “I have found the priest. Kill him!”

Father Toribio said, “Here I am, but you do not have to kill me.”

The soldiers did not care. One soldier fired and the wounded priest stood up and began to walk toward the soldiers. After a few steps they opened fire and Father Toribio Romo fell dead. The story of the young priest’s martyrdom spread quickly and his popularity soared. Many Mexicans who have headed north tell inspiring stories about how their lives were saved through the intervention of Father Toribio.

In 2000, Pope John Paul II canonized Father Toribio and 24 other martyrs murdered for their faith during the Cristero War. Today, Santo Toribio Romo, is honored as the Patron Saint of Mexican migrants and “border crossers.” He is a saint who all Mexican and American Catholics should pray to for help with the border crisis confronting us today.

Saint Toribio Romo, pray for us.

*This article appeared in Aleteia in June of 2016

Alzheimer’s Disease Has Turned Me into a “Guilt-Free Liar”

August 2, 2016/0 Comments/in Blogging, Catholic Writing and Publishing, Inspirational/by Larry Peterson

By Larry Peterson

My wife, Marty, has Alzheimer’s Disease, which can lead to the unexpected, like this essay. I did not plan on writing what follows but certain things, silly things, happened last night that I found myself still thinking about this morning. I thought this might provide some insight into the daily world of Alzheimer’s patients and their primary caregivers.

After dinner (by the way, I am turning into a pretty good cook) Marty asked me, “What time is my show on?”

Reflexively I asked her, “What show?” (I know she has no favorite show. I also know she has stepped into what I call ‘Uh-oh time.’ I call it this because these are the moments that can lead her to become quickly frustrated and agitated).

She looked at me and I could see her tensing up. Raising her voice a decibel or two, she said, “You know what show. Just tell me what time it comes on.”

Quickly I became a liar. I have become a guilt-free, therapeutic liar because, in my world, I have to survive. My realization is that without me she is alone and she can no longer survive on her own. “Sorry, sweetie, your show is not on tonight. There is a special about sharks, and you don’t care about sharks, do you?”

“You know I don’t like sharks. But that’s okay. I can watch the news, right?”

“Absolutely.”

She headed to the sofa, sat down and picks up her puzzle book. She always was good at doing the anacrostics (I find them incredibly difficult) but now she more or less looks at the page, holding the pencil on it. The pencil never moves. Then she said, “Do I have to go to work tomorrow? I’m so tired. I really could use a day off.”

Two years ago I might have tried to explain to her that she does not have a job and has not worked in seven or eight years. However, with my Liar’s Hat still in place I answered, “You’re right. You do look tired. I think you need a day off too. Don’t worry, I’ll call in for you and tell them you’re sick.”

“You would do that for me? That’s’ so nice. I’m so glad I don’t have to get up and go in. Is today Sunday?”

Whew, a relief question. I could tell the truth. “No, it’s Wednesday.”

“Wednesday, are you sure?”

“Yes, it’s Wednesday.”

Things were quiet for a while. It was about 9 p.m. when I walked back to the bathroom. Suddenly I heard smashing and banging coming from the utility room off the kitchen. I headed in there and Marty had, in a matter of minutes, emptied the wall cabinet of all the plastic containers, glasses and cups and other things that were inside and stacked them all on the washer and dryer below. “Hey, hon, what are you doing?”

She looked at me and I could see she was agitated. “We have all this junk. We have to get rid of it. Why do we have all this junk? We have to throw it out.”

Immediately, I switched back to my Liar’s Hat. “Okay, when should we throw it all out?”

“I don’t know; maybe right now?”

“Well, it is kind of late. Maybe we can do it in the morning.”

“I don’t feel like putting it all back tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it.”

“Oh, thanks. I’m too tired.”

There was one final question. She looked at me and asked, “We’re married, right?”

“Yes Marty, we are married.”

She got into bed about 9:30 and was asleep in about two minutes. I was mentally worn out but I looked at her and realized that the innocence of childhood has come back from an unknown place and once again embraced her. I also knew that when she awakes in the morning she will not remember anything of what has happened.

Since I do not “punch a clock” I have the joy of being able to attend daily Mass at 8 AM. Marty will wake up at about 7 AM, and she always asks me, “Are you going to church?”

I answer, “Yup.”

She will ask, “Will you take me with you?”

“Of course.”

From 1 Corinthians 13:4-5

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

As a caregiver to a child of God, I have been blessed.

Being a caregiver for his wife with Alzheimer's Disease has turned Larry Peterson into a guilt-free liar.

By Gelonida – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=29513537

The Kids Need a Bed Tonight

July 5, 2016/0 Comments/in Catholic Writing and Publishing/by Larry Peterson

I had planned to post something about writing this month but I have been diverted. Hope you don’t mind.

I have been a member of the St. Vincent dePaul Society for a long time. In case you did not know this, this organization (now worldwide) was started by a 20 year old student at the University of Paris back in 1833. The young man’s name was Frederick Ozanam and he had been challenged by the modern day “secularists” to “practice what he preached.” So he went out to the street, gave away his coat (it was winter), and he and four friends began the society which they named after St. Vincent dePaul who was known for his work with the poor. Frederick was beatified in 1997 and his is a story for another day.

For today though, I just thought I would link to an article from Aleteia Magazine which spotlighted a story I wrote about one morning a number of years ago working at the St. Vincent dePaul outreach office in downtown St. Petersburg, FL. The story is true and it will give you a look behind the scenes at some of the work Vincentians do. Hope you like it.

Hope you all had a great 4th of July. God bless you all.

The kids need a bed tonight.

The Mysterious Entity Called Inspiration

June 7, 2016/0 Comments/in Catholic Writing and Publishing/by Larry Peterson

Someone asked me once about where my inspiration to write something originates. I had never really thought about it, so the following is what I came up with:

First of all, I really do not think that I was inspired to write or to be a writer. As a kid, I just liked to write “stuff.” I believe the inspiration comes after the fact. For example, two six-year-olds might simultaneously begin taking piano lessons. One has no interest and just goes through the motions. The other is intrigued and plods forward. The first falls by the wayside. The second begins to play and understand the music and the instrument. Lo and behold, here comes the inspiration to help him create his own music, to tap those keys, making his own sound in his own way.

The way I see it, inspiration is triggered by the people, places and things that we encounter and experience. Then inspiration takes on a life of its own as its owner (you or I) lets it journey forward, creating “something” different and unique to us.

A friend of mine might introduce me to a friend of theirs and my mind will begin a journey, intrigued by the way that person said, “Hello,” or by the manner in which they looked at me or the clothes they were wearing or whether or not their shoulders were slouched. They will be placed in my memory bank for future reference as a possible character, and I do not even know it at that moment in time. Someone else would never give that person a second thought. But the red shoes my friend was wearing may give the guy he introduced me to an idea for a different type of shoe.

So, for me as a writer, the inspiration to write about different things and say things in my own way came about because I liked to write to begin with. I scribbled this and I scribbled that and kept on scribbling. For me, there were long pauses between the scribbles but I never lost the desire to scribble and kept at it. It took me almost fifty years after my first scribbles to actually begin scribbling most every day.

In the final analysis we are all different, all unique, and I guess we all have inspiration that fits who we are. Some of us join forces with our inspiration (some call it the muse), others may talk about it for a while, and others ignore it completely. We certainly are interesting creatures.

Evangelizing: Since I Have No Pulpit I Use the Written Word and Social Media

May 3, 2016/1 Comment/in Catholic Writing and Publishing/by Larry Peterson

Monday, April 25th, we celebrated the feast of the St. Mark the Evangelist. Mark (sometimes referred to as John Mark) wrote the first and the shortest gospel. The Entrance Antiphon for the Mass that day was as follows: “Go into the world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature, alleluia.” (Mark 16:15)

Pope Francis, in Evangelli Gaudium, encourages all of us to NOT keep the faith to ourselves but to go forth and transform the world to Christ. The Holy Father wants a church of missionary disciples. Following the Pope’s lead, the young priest in our parish, Father Dan, gave a homily on St. Mark’s feast day, exhorting us all to go forth and proclaim the Good News—to everyone.

Pope Francis has a “bully pulpit.” So does Father Dan. They are expected to preach these things to us. I can only speak for myself but I do NOT have a “bully pulpit.” I do have a few plastic milk crates in the garage but I do not have the courage to set them down on a busy street corner or at a mall and start preaching to passers-by. (In today’s day and age I would probably get locked up as an intolerant loon, although that would not bother me.) The point is, it is not easy for us lay people to proselytize and/or preach the Good News unless we have a somewhat captive audience.

Those of us here at the CWG can interact with each other (whether it be one on one or in a group) about Catholic stuff. We can rail on about the secular attacks on our faith, have differences of opinion and post our deepest feelings that oftentimes come out in our written words. CWG can be our “bully pulpit.” So can a CCD class, or a Legion of Mary meeting, a Knights of Columbus meeting or even a simple bible study in the parish hall or someone’s home. But in all of those examples we are, as the cliche goes, “preaching to the choir.” How do we proselytize and spread the Good news? I have my own method I will share and it is very simple. (It has definitely cost me friends, but so be it.)

I assume that most of us being writers, besides using the written word, also use some social media (which may include Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, LinkedIn, or others.) I have accounts on all of them but I do not understand Pinterest yet and rarely go to LinkedIn. I do use Facebook and Twitter. And I use them to perform my own feeble efforts to evangelize.

Every day (well, almost every day) I post something Catholic/Christian on Facebook and Twitter. I will place quotes from saints with their pictures, or links to Catholic/Christian stories and so forth. Today I posted a picture of a two year old girl named Ida, who was killed in the Holocaust. I posted little Ida’s photo because this is Passover week and all our Catholic beginnings come from Judaism (people and customs). We are joined at the hip with Judaism. Plus, I am writing Catholic/Christian fiction and I am blogging Catholic/Christian themes which I post on social media.

Anyway, that is how I try to evangelize. I know no other way. And yes, my list of “friends” include many Catholic/Christians, many non-Christians, some agnostics and two known atheists. My “friends” list has dwindled for sure (some folks whom I have known for decades no longer interact) but it has also expanded. It is in constant flux. No matter–I am evangelizing the only way I know how.

In conclusion, if you do Facebook or Twitter or any of the other social media you can get a bit creative and spread the Good News right there. If you have any ideas on ways to evangelize to those we do not know, I would love to hear some.

Planets, Dr. Seuss and Snowflakes—Combined Proof That There is a CREATOR

April 5, 2016/0 Comments/in Catholic Writing and Publishing/by Larry Peterson

Ten years ago, NASA’s new, Horizon Spacecraft left our humble, little planet and began its voyage to to the edges of our solar system and beyond. After traveling 3 billion-plus miles, New Horizon finally passed Pluto, the furthest planet from our sun. I don’t know about you but I find it so humbling and awe inspiring that we human beings, using the perfection that surrounds us, can mange to find a planet that is so far away. Yet, within our universe, it would be as close as a neighbor down the street.

How can we possibly know how to measure distance and location and density and climate relating to places that are so unimaginably far away? The speed of light is 186,000 miles per second. Who figured that out? How do you measure the speed of light? Assuming the number is correct, that means in one minute light travels 11+ million miles. That would be almost 16 billion miles in one day. Multiply that number by four and a half years. Do you see where I’m going with this? The light from our own sun takes eight minutes to reach Earth. Now scientists have found an “exoplanet” which is more than a thousand light years away and they have figured out that it revolves around its sun in 385 days vs our 365 days. WHEW!

Let’s move past Pluto. It seems NASA’s Kepler Space Telescope, launched in 2009, found this exoplanet; they named it Kepler 452b. This exoplanet could be similar to our hometown, Earth. “Hello sister planet, Kepler 452b.” The Kepler Telescope has identified close to 5000 exoplanets since it started scanning the deepest parts of space. But this is the first one that could be just like Earth. Now, get this–it is one thousand and four light years away. Our closest star system is Alpha Centauri, a mere 4.3 light years away. That means our closest star system is trillions of miles from our solar system and would take us tens of thousands of years to get there. Kepler 452b is 200 times further than that. My question is–how can we know these things?

By NASA/Ames/JPL-Caltech [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

What about Earth? Think of some of the things that Earth does without us thinking about them. Here is one example; we never think about TIME but without its never ending accuracy we would have chaos. There are 24 hours in a day. Not 25 or 23 or 24.8, but 24. What if there were a random number of hours in a day? Imagine the possibilities? So how did we get 24 hours in a day? One word can answer that question, “perfection.”

What about explosions? (Please bear with me–I do intend to make a point.) Explosions are destructive and, for the most part, maim, kill and destroy. Last Fourth of July a guy in Maine, in a festive frame of mind, brilliantly set a rocket off from the top of his head. He died instantly. Jason Pierre Paul, the all-pro defensive star for the NFL’s N.Y. Giants, blew several fingers off his hand with fireworks. C. J. Wilson, of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, retired because he blew several fingers of his hand with fireworks. We can go back 70 years and remember that on August 6, 1945, the atomic bomb blew the Japanese city of Hiroshima to smithereens. It also killed about 80,000 people. It follows that if I set a bomb off in my car the chances of the result being a nicer car are–well, ZERO.

So now–to the point. The Big Bang Theory of Creation has become the favored explanation of how our seemingly infinite universe came into existence. Scientists do agree that the universe did, in fact, have a beginning. They also know that the universe is expanding and changing and dying, just like we do. To the question: At the moment of creation when the unimaginable explosion took place or whether it was something like a giant balloon expanding and expanding until it “popped” spewing matter outwards, it all had to be controlled. Who did that?

Random explosions do not and cannot result in perfection. Twenty-four hours in a day is perfect for us imperfect species to depend on, including the animals. It is a contradiction to believe otherwise. Perfection surrounds us. We can predict the rising and setting of the sun to the second, the new and full moons to the minute. We know when the tides rise and fall and can predict their lowest and highest points to the minute. We know when an eclipse, whether solar or lunar will occur and where. We have learned how to use the world around us to maintain our very existence or, in many cases, destroy it.

Bottom line: because the universe is so vast and expansive (and apparently infinite) and all of it is moving and changing within a perfectly ordered system proves someone bigger and smarter than any of us put this in place. We cannot understand this. We cannot scientifically prove it. But, no matter what, we live in it and survive by it every second of every day of our lives. Perfection does not come from chaos. Perfection can only come from someone who is PERFECT. We here at the CWG know who that Person is even though we cannot see HIM or touch HIM. All we have to do is see a rising sun, a blooming rose, a full moon, a rainbow…or hear the cry of a newborn baby or ponder the magic of one snowflake, unique unto itself.

Maybe Dr. Seuss nailed it in his famous book, Horton Hears a Who. Maybe our planet Earth is really no bigger than Horton’s “Whoville.” Maybe we are specks on the end of a ball of dust. Maybe we are not as big and as smart as we think we are. We had to have a Creator. It is common sense. It is ultimately all in HIS hands. I am also sure HE subscribes to the famous sentence in Dr. Seuss’s book, “a person’s a person no matter how small.” Maybe those very “smart” people who reject what must be so need to breathe in a deep dose of humility and realize that this all did not just happen as the result of some random explosion or expansion. It is illogical and makes no sense (to me).

How the Catholic Writers Conference Made a Gardener into a Writer

February 20, 2016/1 Comment/in Catholic Writers Conference Live, Catholic Writers Conference Online, Catholic Writers Guild, Catholic Writing and Publishing/by Karina Fabian

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Registration is still open for the Catholic Writers Conference Online, March 4-6. Get the details and sign up here.

Attending a writing conference is an investment of time and money. How can you be sure you’ll get anything from it? The Catholic Writers Guild has had dozens of success stories, from writers who found their inspiration to those who landed book contracts. One of the most touching and inspiring stories is that of Guild member Margaret Realy. But we’ll let her tell you:

How could I possibly glorify the Lord by writing? I was only a gardener, and rapidly losing my identity as one because of encroaching arthritic disability.

The life change from landscapes to laptops was nothing I had anticipated. It began in the Adoration chapel with tearful prayers for direction and guidance. That guidance came through the Catholic Writers Guild.

In 2009 when I attended the CWG Live Conference, I set aside my fears and entered the unfamiliar world of publishing. I listened intently to those who guided me into an industry I knew nothing about.

There were seminars, workshops, and pitch sessions. I was introduced to professional writers and acquisition editors. Each opportunity that the CWG offered, I seized. As an introvert, the hardest event to manage—and most significant—was the informal networking that took place in hallways and at meals.

Through the guidance of Guild members and their willingness to mentor, my anxiety and insecurities began to lessen. My words became manuscripts which became book summaries and proposals. These were groomed for pitch sessions through the CWG support system.

The graces and blessings of the Guild have allowed me to develop as a writer, to serve God with words instead of a trowel. Left to my own devices, I would never have realized the seed planted in me to be a spiritual gardening author. The CWG members gave breath to my prayers.

Margaret Rose Realy, Obl. OSB, is a lay hermit and award winning author of three books: A Garden of Visible Prayer, Cultivating God’s Garden through Lent, and A Catholic Gardener’s Spiritual Almanac. She is a columnist, presenter, retreat leader, and a regular contributor to Aleteia, Catholic Mom, and Catholic Digest. Margaret blogs at Morning Rose Prayer Gardens on Patheos.

Margaret’s amazing transformation came at the live conference, but others have found blessings at the online one as well. The online conference offers instruction, networking, and even pitch session opportunities at a fraction of the cost and without the hassle of travel.

If you haven’t signed up yet, do it now. Go to http://www.anymeeting.com/PIID=EC51DE87844F3B and fill out the form. We’ll see you there!