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Escape, Duty, Chastisement, and The Interminable Stand Against the Tide

You may have noticed I’ve been more quiet than usual of late. There’s a reason for that, and of course, as I look back over the past two weeks, a story worth telling.

An Unexpected Adventure

A couple of weeks ago, my wife and daughters were supposed to catch an early morning plane from the hot, dusty, desert Southwest, where we find ourselves temporary residents, to the lush trees and crisp autumn breezes of bucolic Virginia, which we called home for many years until circumstances compelled a recent move. Something was amiss with the tickets, however, and they couldn’t board. To fix the problem would have been too costly, so I found myself making a u-turn and driving back to the airport to retrieve my family members. My 11-year-old was absolutely distraught over the so-close-but-so-far lost chance to soothe her aching homesickness. I embraced her, hoping that the gesture might help the sadness pass, but the disappointment was marrow-deep.

As we headed back home, an idea sprung to mind. A way to potentially stave off the heartsickness by replacing the lost thing with something of comparable value.

“What if,” I asked tentatively, “we grabbed the boys, packed up the van, and went on a trip? You’ve already got your suitcases in the back, so we’d just need to grab a few things.”

“Where to?”

“Let’s go to the Redwoods!” I said, noticing the excitement growing within me. I had been wanting to take my family to Northern California to see that amazing forest for a long time, but it never seemed to work out. In 14 years of marriage, we’ve never taken a real vacation. There was a sightseeing roadtrip during a cross country move in 2004, and a long weekend to New England in 2007, but that’s about it. For my part, I hadn’t been to the Redwoods since the summer before college 20 years ago, and this at last seemed like the opportune moment. I was tempted to wait, because my children had a week-long fall break coming up, but something inside me yearned for the spontaneity of adventure, and I knew I had to seize the moment. We were all stressed out, burned out from work and school and the hectic day-to-day cycle of our daily routines, and I couldn’t wait to walk away from the computer for a few days and think about something — anything — else.

So we did. We spent a short time at home, gathering what we could, piled everyone into the van, called the school and told them the children would be out, and headed West. By the end of the first day’s drive, we had made it just south of San Francisco, and called it night. By the second evening, we at last had a moment to stop at the coast. Mist clung to the rocky hillside as the sun sunk low on the horizon and the tide came roaring in. It was the kind of beautiful that makes you want to stay there and never look back.

Later, as we drove through the foggy darkness, the outlines of hulking trees were just barely visible in the glow of the headlights beneath the pitch-black darkness of the forest canopy. We awoke bright and early the next morning in a little town called Crescent City. The morning air was brisk and smelled of the ocean, which we could see just across the street from our hotel parking lot.

We set off that morning in search of a place called The Grove of Titans — an off the main road treasure trove containing some of the oldest and largest redwoods in existence. A number of websites talk about them, and although their location is no longer kept a secret, they’re close to a mile hike off an unpaved road on a small trail. We weren’t sure we could find them.

I also had doubts about whether we could make it that far off the beaten path with six children, one of them a two year old and another only four. But there’s something about the Redwoods that energizes you. If there were such a thing as a magical forest, they would be it. The way the light falls in radiant beams through the dense foliage, the impossibly gigantic trees everywhere you look, the feeling of stillness and timelessness all around you as you navigate trunks bigger than your vehicle, living things that have stood in the same place for hundreds, if not thousands of years. I found myself absently wondering if Tolkien had ever visited this place before imagining his Ents.

Adding to the mystique of the Redwoods was the fact that phone signal and mobile Internet were impossible to obtain there. It was just us and the reality of God’s magnificent creation — a potent reminder of what is truly important, and a balm for the soul. Having removed the temptation to share every image taken with our phones, or to spend idle moments immersing ourselves in the useless chatter of social media, our senses re-engaged. The sweet smell of pine resin and rich, fertile earth; the cool autumn air, our almost inaudible footfalls on the soft carpet of pine needles below. The children, unused to the absence of modern-day distractions and boisterous by nature, had to be reminded to be silent, and to observe, listen, and take it all in. When at last we came upon the Titans, we stood in awe before their nearly incomprehensible massivity. One of the only experiences I can compare it to is the feeling I had the first time I stepped inside St. Peter’s Basilica. A reminder of one’s utter smallness and insignificance in the Universe before He to Whom all good things give glory.

One fallen tree next to the Titan known as “Sacagawea“was so tall lying on its side it formed a wall that must have been over 8 feet tall. Following it, one entered a tunnel that would have been the envy of any young boy building a summer fort in the woods. When we reached the tree known as “Chesty Puller,” our entire family stood, arms outstretched, side-by-side, and barely spanned the width of the tree. A single person standing next to it might as well have been standing next to the wall of a castle. 

If I recharged in the beauty of God’s creation, my mind recovered from its daily overstimulation through the lull of the drive. My phone sat in its cradle, searching for signal, as I drove through hundreds of miles of rural California. My family slept, or listened to audiobooks, or talked, or — if we’re being honest — shouted and fought with each other like children often do until I thundered a warning from my seat. If we wanted to stop to take a look at something, or stroll along a beach, we did. We had no plan. No particular timeline (although the necessary return to both work and school hung over me like the proverbial sword of Damocles.) It was an adventure in the truest sense, not knowing where we would stay, or where we would make it the next day. We wound our way down the coastal highway, finally cutting inland to the 101 through Sonoma county and endless miles of vineyards and wineries. Eventually, we made it as far south as San Diego, where we rented a small house near the ocean for less than the cost of a particularly distasteful Motel 6 we wound up in the night before when everything else for miles was sold out. With the windows open, we could smell the salt air and hear the surf crashing against the rocks in the darkness. The next morning, I got up early and walked to a little camper trailer in the parking lot of a mechanic’s shop where I bought coffee, which I then took to the cliffs overlooking the Pacific. We spent a day on Coronado beach building sandcastles and collecting sand dollars from a shore that glittered like gold. We ate overpriced seafood and watched the tide come in, hitting the cliffs below the homes so hard the spray soared into back yards.

 

A Return to Reality and the Recognition of Chastisement

Unfortunately, our beautiful adventure couldn’t last forever. On the fifth day of our trip, we headed home. It was harder than I expected to get back into the flow of things. The minute I sat down at my desk and began looking through the news, I knew I needed a lot longer respite than five busy days in which I drove well over 2300 miles.

And while we had read about wildfires before we headed out on the road, we never saw anything in flames. We saw some previously burned hillsides, and one night, an orange glow over the horizon seemed to indicate a possible blaze, but that was it. Days after our return, however, fires broke out anew along parts of the route we had just driven home — fires that likely would have made our trip along the beautiful byways impossible had we waited. The devastation near the Bay Area continues to a point that it is now hard to fully grasp. 31 people are now reported dead, and 460 missing. Entire neighborhoods have been leveled. A picture posted on Twitter this week of the San Francisco skyline looked more like something out of a dystopian sci-fi movie than one of the cities I had just driven through:

It’s hard to believe how quickly things can change. Just a week ago I was driving through the endless vineyards of Sonoma county, drinking in the beauty, enjoying the respite from the day to day. And just like that, much of it is gone.

My friend Joseph Sciambra, who has both written here at 1P5 and appeared on our podcast twice, has lost everything. His house, along with that of his parents, has been reduced to nothing but ash and ruin. What is left of his car now sits like a gutted husk upon hardened rivulets of molten aluminum. Joseph describes the harrowing experience of trying to get out with his father, who is in a wheelchair:

While we were waiting two fireman showed up, told us we had to leave – they picked my dad up (with his broken arm) did the best they could and put him in the cargo area of their SUV.

We drove down the 4 mile road – but it was blocked and we could not get out. There were a line of about 20 cars filled with people trying to get out. One fire engine was able to get through to us.

Down the road, the brave firefighters tried to clear the burning debris from the road.

A few of us decided to turn around as the fire was burning up the mountain towards us. There was a large cleaning about ½ mile back – by then, a helicopter had landed there. I thought they could fly my dad out, by the time I reached them, they were already flying out an older woman and children (3 at a time).

Then another helicopter arrived, but when the firefighters arrived, they said they would first have to secure my dad to a gurney before they could transport him so he would go on the next flight – they had room for three – so my mom, my friend, and another guy went – if I was going to die, I wanted to stay and die with my dad – the same man I never got along with, the same man I always felt alienated from – the same man I blamed for much of what went wrong in my life – including my own homosexuality – at that moment, if I was going to live or die, and would rather die with this man (who prayed me out of my once hellish life) that survive another day knowing I left him.

In the meantime, some of the cars made it out, including my nephew and his wife, but the road was closed again. Well, the helicopter didn’t come back because it couldn’t land in the high winds. A few seconds later, another firefighter said the road was open again. So an incredibly brave fighter named Zack – who had been working on securing my dad for transport, got in the back of our SUV and stayed with him – and we drove away.

As I turned the corner to start heading down the mountain – every house in front of me was burning.

We drove through flames, embers, and smoke.

I would have turned around, but Zack kept assuring me and told me to drive on. If he had not been with us – and if I had tried to turn around – we surely would have been burned alive.

Thank God for him.

“I don’t care about the stuff I lost,” he writes, “but this is very hard on my dad who is very ill. Right now he is in the hospital. Please pray for him if you pray for anyone. Please pray for us.” (Joseph says that he is “okay financially,” but friends have nevertheless set up a fundraising campaign to help him get back on his feet, for those who would like to contribute.)

“Dear God,” Joseph posted on his Facebook page last night, “My name is Joe not Job.” And as I look at the work he does trying to undo the demonic infestation of sodomy and those who promote it from within the Church, I cannot help but wonder if this is more than just dark humor. As I can personally attest, those fighting the darkness in Our Faith and the world are always hindered by the enemy, and God allows us to endure battles and suffer losses we do not think we can bear so that we may grow closer to and more dependent upon Him.

The words of the Letter to the Hebrews — hard sayings indeed — resonate here.

“Whom the Lord loveth, he chastiseth; and he scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. Persevere under discipline. God dealeth with you as with his sons; for what son is there, whom the father doth not correct? But if you be without chastisement, whereof all are made partakers, then are you bastards, and not sons. Moreover we have had fathers of our flesh, for instructors, and we reverenced them: shall we not much more obey the Father of spirits, and live? And they indeed for a few days, according to their own pleasure, instructed us: but he, for our profit, that we might receive his sanctification. Now all chastisement for the present indeed seemeth not to bring with it joy, but sorrow: but afterwards it will yield, to them that are exercised by it, the most peaceable fruit of justice.” (Heb. 12:6-11)

It seems little enough consolation, but who are we to question the Lord? Do any of us get to escape this if we wish to be His sons?

Fatima, the Fight, and the Future 

Last Saturday morning, as I drove my family to Mass, I looked up and noticed that the big, bright harvest moon still hanging visibly in the sky. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so clearly in the light of day. The symbolism struck me.

It’s Mary. I thought. The sun — her Son — shines brightly, but this is her time. Her message at Fatima is the message for our moment. 

Although I’ve been trying to make my five First Saturdays since last year, this is only my third consecutive month of meeting all the requirements. Something always gets in the way. As often as not, it’s me. The enemy knows just which buttons to push.

And sure enough, by Saturday night, things weren’t going well, and a situation arose leaving me angry enough that I never did the meditation on the mysteries of the rosary with my children as I said I would. By Sunday morning, I began to endure — but not yet to recognize — all the hallmarks of a full-blown spiritual attack. Without further provocation, my anger grew, sitting within me like a toxic parasite, driving out rational thought. As I drove to Sunday Mass, I found myself bombarded with unbidden dark thoughts and temptations, which then turned into anti-religious sentiments. An aggressive feeling of depression bordering on despair set in. At one point, I walked out of the church building, just wanting to get away from what was going on inside, as though Mass itself had suddenly become an irritant. Fortunately, this was where the enemy tipped his hand. I have seen first hand how those afflicted by demons are repulsed by sacred things. I suddenly had the grace to realize that what I was experiencing was not internal, but external. And so I turned to Him.

“Lord,” I said, “I can’t fight this. I’m tired of having to fight everything all the time. I can’t do it. I don’t have what it takes.” I’m not sure how, but gradually, He coaxed me back inside. Gradually, I came to the realization that the grace of Holy Communion, which I had thought not to receive because of my unusual disposition, was precisely what I needed to repel the attacks of the enemy. Confident of my course and with the first sense of peace all morning, I approached the communion rail. As I made my way back, I felt the fog lift. The anger fade. The temptations recede. The rest of the day was peaceful and happy. But it also made me wonder.

St. John Vianney used to get beaten up by the Devil in his room at night. At first, it terrified him, but over time, he came to recognize that it usually preceded the return of some sinner to the confessional, and he took it as a consolation.

Now, I am no St. John Vianney. I am arguably the furthest thing from a saint of any kind. But one correlation I have noticed over the past year is that when I have a day like I had this past Sunday, something big usually follows. The last time it happened, the filial correction came out. Now, as the week draws near a close, I find myself wondering what to expect.

I have it from a very reputable source that the fraternal correction, which so many had hoped would come out today, is not yet to be expected. Today is the 100th anniversary of the last Fatima Message, and though it’s not yet noon (my time) as of this writing, the world seems quiet and calm. In Asia, they are already asleep. In Europe, they are getting ready for bed. And while I doubt very much that God would telegraph His plans, I wonder if this occasion will really come and go without anything of note transpiring?

I don’t know. Earlier this week, I would have said no. But God isn’t one to telegraph His plans.

I’m grateful, in a way, that after today we can move beyond the somewhat exaggerated expectations people had for the Fatima anniversary. As Our Lady warned on this day in 1973 in Akita, Japan, the chastisement that God would send if men do not repent would make it so “the living will envy the dead.” Not exactly a great way to start a weekend.

But in the absence of something spectacular or supernatural, we are forced to return to the mundane. To the quotidian. To the long, drawn out, exhausting trench warfare for the Faith against an enemy that has superior numbers and firepower while we are powerless to do anything but confront them at every turn with the truths they deny and distort. There is no end in sight, and there is no possible retreat.

That’s a hard reality, no matter how much grit you have.

Something I learned on my road trip is what a relief it can be to step away from all of this. And it’s all happening so fast, that just a brief respite means coming back to a flood. But what else is there to do? If the few who are willing to stand against the tide relinquish the task, who will take their place? And how will we account for the abandonment of our task when we stand before Our Lord?

I would like nothing more than to get back in the car, turn around, and head back to the coast. To sit with my coffee and watch the waves as they pound against the rocks and cliffs and let the sound of the surf wash it all away. To lose myself in the forest of giants and its uncanny silence and breathe it all in.

Alas, duty calls. Once more unto the breach.

67 thoughts on “Escape, Duty, Chastisement, and The Interminable Stand Against the Tide”

  1. “against an enemy that has superior numbers and firepower while we are powerless to do anything but confront them at every turn” Same as at Lepanto. Same as at Antioch. *8^> Keep praying your Rosary

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  2. Do not despair, Steve. We are all right there with you. It is tough, I know . . . I am disappointed today also. I thought that surely Our Lord would not let this day pass without some check on the wildness coming out of Rome. But God’s ways are not our ways. DO NOT GIVE UP. Our Lord and Our Lady have already conquered!

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      • I’d add to that: after Lucia’s vision at Tuy How long was it before it was publicised? If “Where great evil doth abound, great good doth more abound” then there MUST be all kinds of good things going on that we know nothing about. Keep praying the Rosary.

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    • I am late to this article and to posting but it occurred tome that all the Rosaries, Holy Hours and Masses that have been prayed and are being prayed have brought a mitigation and given us more time. It is an inch at a time but it is time. I think we just keep praying. And Chloe is right about the fact that not seeing something doesn’t mean that something didn’t happen. God often works under the radar.

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  3. Thank you for sharing your personal struggles, your article had a profound impact on me. It made some of the pain I have come to the surface. I hope that all of the pain that we go through as fathers will turn into the salvation of our children and spouse. My daughters Daniela and Luisa are turning 6 years today.

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  4. Prayers going out to you & your family Steve.
    Glad you brought up St. John Vianney . Let’s keep the new P.A.L. in our prayers.
    Five of the 28 new members of the Pontifical Academy for Life are critical of Catholic doctrines reaffirmed in Humanae Vitae. Dissenters are Monsignor Pierangelo Sequeri; Anne-Marie Pelletier; Father Alain Thomasset, SJ; Father Maurizio Chiodi; and Father Humberto Miguel Yanez, SJ. , Father Carlo Casalone, SJ. Please pray for them.

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  5. I would urge Steve and everyone to get an 1884 edition of “The Spiritual Combat” by Lorenzo Scupoli. The updated versions have taken all the military “combat” words out and substituted kinder, gentler words but as this is combat against dying the 2nd death, they must stay for the full impact. Scupoli is a master. It also, I believe, can be found for free on the internet. I also would mention that St. Francis de Sales kept a copy in his pocket daily for 18 years. How’s that for a promotional?

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    • How can I tell the difference between an original copy and the updated? they have one on Amazon called the ‘classic version’

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      • I ordered the updated version a year or 2 ago from Amazon and when reading the comments I saw that someone had written in recommending the older 1884 edition. (London:SUTTABY and Co., AMEN CORNER 1884) Whoever wrote in the recommendation also posted a particular page from both editions with a side by side for illustration of how the wording was effective, or not. It fired me up enough to find it [but alas I don’t remember how – I’ll post when I remember]. Google Books copied and printed the book (4.5″ x 5″) complete with fingertips of the photocopier on a few pages. The newer editions get the point across and Scupoli makes great points, but the older edition has “fire” in it, if you know what I mean – stirs the soul to strive, to move, to fight!! Or in some instances, to scream for help. I think there are a couple of out of print bookdealers that can be found online that, for a price, will get hold of this book and copy it. It wasn’t outrageously expensive, no more than $30 — or so is my guess. I’ll try to retrace my steps — I hope you find it. And it should be referred to daily to keep the blood hot, so to speak.

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      • Hello Chloe,
        I would think that since it is published by TAN Books that their version
        would be definitive. Not updated for political correctness……(just like
        their great books by Fr. Frederick Faber, which are his original versions).

        I just checked. Their website says “This is the original TAN edition now
        with updated typesetting, fresh new cover, new size and quality binding, and
        the same trusted content.” That should give us enough confidence to know
        what we are getting.

        But one must be careful, in that they do offer a second version, which is
        part of their series called THE CLASSICS MADE SIMPLE.
        In this case, definitely the wording would be different. So caution must be
        advised in that case.

        I try to support Catholic publishers like TAN Books, rather than
        Amazon. But anyway hopefully this helps to clarify matters.

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        • I hope I’m not getting annoying, but I agree whole-heartedly about buying from TAN to support them. I’ve got dozens of books over the last, at least 25 years. An aside, I laughed when I heard Fr. Mitch Pacwa recommending buying from TAN, and he promised that they’ve improved the glue used to bind their books, saying that you could tell by looking at his book shelves which were the TAN books because they were the ones held together by rubber-bands. (I used duct tape.)
          Back to Scupoli, the 1884 edition of “Spiritual Combat” says that it was translated from the “original Italian” which, one would hope is a ‘purer’ product. It’s all subjective on my part; I did benefit from (whichever one of the updated versions) as I would with any pious reading, but when I had the older edition it made me fired up with a new ‘burning’ resolve. I keep it handy for just that purpose when the spirit is flagging. Having said all this, I can’t speak to the TAN translation but if the wording isn’t “thee, thine, thou” in the style of the Douay-Rheims religious lexicon, then it’s not the one of which I speak. The one will say “struggle against the temptation until you find tranquility” the other “don’t turn your back, use your sword with all your might and fight on until it lies dead at your feet” — that sort of thing. (I took liberties here paraphrasing rather than quoting.) That’s it from me about this!

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    • He kept it in his pocket, but he READ it!!! It is called a classic for a reason. Another book that many people have but don’t read is Imitation of Christ. Read Book II, Chapter 8 on the friendship of Christ.

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  6. Ah, the attacks of the enemy of souls! Hard to realize when in the midst of them. Daily Mass, if at all possible and very regular confessions are a great help. Daily rosary! There has been NO good Church news. A ‘new church’ is being held up before our eyes; a false church is here. God is the same, yesterday, today and tomorrow. Truth does not evolve. Nor does it change. What was always considered an offense against God, namely sin, is still sin. Confusion, from the enemy through his minions, reigns. Cling to Jesus and Mary and the age old truths. Guard the children! Heresies abound. It is a chastisement and many souls are being caught in the web of deception because it comes from those we were taught to respect.

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  7. An outstanding post on many levels weighted brilliantly.

    Off topic, but a little light humor…..

    I took down my Rebel flag (which you can’t buy on EBAY any more) and
    peeled the NRA sticker off my front window.
    I disconnected my home alarm system and quit the candy-ass Neighborhood Watch.

    I bought two Pakistani flags and put one at each corner of the front yard.
    Then I purchased the black flag of ISIS (which you CAN Buy on EBAY)
    and ran it up the flag pole.

    Now the local police, sheriff, FBI, CIA, NSA, Homeland Security,
    Secret Service and other agencies are all watching my house 24/7.

    I’ve NEVER felt safer and I’m saving $69.95 a month that ADT used to charge me.

    Plus, I bought burkas for me to wear when I shop or travel.
    Everyone moves out of the way, and security can’t pat me down.
    If they say I’m a male wearing a burka, I just say I’m feeling like a
    woman today.

    Hot Damn…Safe at last!! ~ God Bless America

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  8. “Although I’ve been trying to make my five First Saturdays since last year, this is only my third consecutive month of meeting all the requirements. Something always gets in the way. As often as not, it’s me. The enemy knows just which buttons to push”
    You’re not kidding about that. I finally completed mine in February, it was hard, things kept cropping up, a family funeral out of state, I drive to a SSPX chapel, nobody shows up at the schedule time, arrggg, start over, I was the last in line for confession and didn’t get in at the FSSP chapel before the priest had to be vested for mass, arrrrgggg, start over. It’s definitely not as easy as it seems.

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  9. My wife’s dad saw the Miracle of the Sun 100 years ago today. He was 14.

    God chastises those He loves. Thus the partition, invasion and Communist rule of Poland are explained. Yet Poland perseveres. The Pope dares not bully Poland.

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    • My Mum saw it. People (many good people) keep saying it was a very unusual Aurora Borealis. Mum said it was nothing like the AB. More like search lights shining down from an empty sky. She couldn’t find anyone else in the area who’s seen it too, until she mentioned it to the local priest who said “Thank Heaven! I thought I was going mad because no-one else saw it!”

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  10. Love. The Ground of All Reality is the Love Whose Name is Jesus, the Face of the Living God. Reality is relational, God’s Love communing with us yet. Just today reading through – again – Joesph Ratzinger’s “Introduction to Christianity”, p. 225: “Jesus… his existence is explained as completely relative, nothing other than ‘being from’ and ‘being for’….the total unity with the ‘I am’ that results from an attitude of complete surrender. ”

    “I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you” – John 14:18.

    Hope that this helps, Steve!

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  11. Blessed be thy Holy leave of absence, every soldier needs his rest from the battle from time to time. And that rest can be all too short and holy exhaustion can be all too real. However, we are at war with an enemy who knows no rest, and so we must summon strength from God Almighty to continue to battle on His sacred front.

    Welcome back soldier of Christ!

    Once more give thyself heart and mind to the battle and offer the minions of Satan no quarter!

    May God Bless us wearied warriors and may our Blessed Lady lead us to eternal victory in the Name of Her only begotten One, Jesus the Christ. Amen.

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  12. I’ve thought a lot lately of the book, “MARY CRUSHES THE SERPENT -30 Years of Experiences As An Exorcist Told In His Own Words” — so apropos when you consider the political and pontifical derangement syndromes we are witnessing (and from personal experience being picked on by dark forces):

    “The demon is full of hatred towards all good…He loves the bad only out of hatred for the good. A demon told me that he seduces men to different vices not because he likes these vices but because he despises their virtues. Whenever he sees a virtuous or well-meaning soul whom God might use to accomplish something worthwhile, his hatred becomes in-flamed and he tries every possible device to deprive that soul of her virtue and to make her incapable of doing good. He is unable to foretell what the results of his attacks will be…Thus he proceeds blindly and to his own shame he is instrumental in bringing about a lot of good. The demon himself told me that there are many things he would not do if he could know beforehand what the outcome would be. “When the power of the demon is exhausted through rage, he becomes a coward. Courage is a virtue and the demon has no such virtue. Hence he is not courageous but wild, just so long as his energy lasts…The more the demons feel their influence slipping the more furious they become. They admit that themselves: “The weaker we are, the wilder we become.””
    http://www.mysticsofthechurch.com/2010/09/mary-crushes-serpent-virgin-marys-role.html#sthash.krb09ZHU.dpuf

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  13. Great piece, Steve. What an outstanding dad you are! The kids will always cherish the wonderful Golden State experience you provided. God bless and refresh you. God Keep your family safe.

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  14. When I saw the pictures of the West cost I thought for sure Steve was gonna take his family in search of one eye Willie. It would have been perfect he could have emerged from a cave saying “This is our time.” Bet this is the first Goonie reference on a traditional catholic blog.

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  15. I’m a Dad too Steve, and I’ve felt the same feelings of weariness as you. The dark, dark attacks from the evil one evidently are happening to all of us. I certainly can’t describe my feelings any better than you did in that great article. It was the story of Our Lady of Fatima that made me a committed (and later, Traditional) Catholic when I was 14; I’m 53 now. I find my self thinking more each day about Our Lady, much like I did years ago when I first learned of Jacinta, Francisco and Lucia. I feel like we only have the Mass ( TLM) and rosary left, but really—what else do we need? I’ll offer another rosary tonight for all of us to continue to persevere.

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  16. “I found myself bombarded with unbidden dark thoughts and temptations,
    which then turned into anti-religious sentiments. An aggressive feeling
    of depression bordering on despair set in. At one point, I walked out of
    the church building, just wanting to get away from what was going on
    inside, as though Mass itself had suddenly become an irritant.”

    Steve, the EXACT same thing happened to me at Mass tonight just before our parish’s Fatima procession. All I wanted to do was leave, run away; thank God for my wife who insisted we stay. The procession and rosary helped immensely. I was totally taken out. Everything’s still off. Could use prayers.

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    • Yes, Brian and all who have been ‘taken out’ by Satanic temptations and the like this weekend. The anger Steve talks about was a huge bomb he threw, I am convinced, into the lives of at least some or maybe most of the faithful. I had a similar (if not exact) experience that actually took me throughout the entire night on the Eve of Our Lady of Fatima’s Anniversary and into the day of to shake (realizing that there was no way that I could concentrate on the mysteries of the Rosary, I said many many Hail Mary’s even if some were just mouthing the words) It was really horrendous. Can’t say that I’ve experienced anything quite like it. Slept for only about 2 hours if that. Upon finally finding the peace that surpasses all understanding yesterday, I finally realized what had just happened. Beyond any doubt Satan is in FULL attack mode. Pray the Rosary as best you can and ask the Blessed Mother to help, she absolutely KNOWS what we’re up against. It may have helped me anyway, to be on guard for an attack of this nature, instead of ‘ambushing’ me the way he did……..my bad:(

      p.s. I will pray for you……pray for me too, and all of us that are under attack.

      Reply
    • This spiritual “virus” is going around and is extremely contagious. Many here of my acquaintance have experienced such things. I don’t think I did although I was extremely sad and easily brought to tears during my prayers and Holy Hours before, on and after the 13th. A close friend has some really bizarre things happen and an attack of a temptation to anger. It’s a jungle out there. If we could see with our spiritual eyes what’s going on we would see clouds of “spiritual gnats” swarming and biting at us I think.

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  17. Is 2029 the actual 100th anniversary of the request for consecration at Fatima? Some are saying that is the date we should look to as a milestone.

    Reply
    • July 13, 1917 Our Lady told the three children that She would come to ask for the consecration of Russia to Her Immaculate Heart.

      On June 13, 1929, in the Presence of the Most Holy Trinity, Our Lady said:

      “The moment has come in which God asks the Holy Father to order and make in union with all the bishops of the world the consecration of Russia to My Immaculate Heart, promising to save it by this means.”

      In the 1950s, Pope Pius XII consecrated Russia to the Immaculate Heart of Mary BUT WITHOUT ALL the bishops.

      To this day, NO pope has ordered the collegial consecration of Russia to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

      Reply
  18. Thank you Steve for your honest and thought provoking article! Truly, a necessary reminder for those of us that struggle and seek Our Lord’s love through all the storms of our lives! God bless you, your family and your insight! ????

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  19. With what is going on in my own personal life right now, I needed to read this. So, thanks.

    My wife got some medical related news on the 13th, so if anyone reading this would be willing to say a prayer for her, I’d appreciate it.

    Reply
  20. Seems like I’ve had a lot of good company this last couple of days – I thought is was just a kind of anticlimax feeling of being too fed up and not wanting to continue with devotions – presumably not, so thank you for this honest article.

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  21. Dear Steve. What a consoling post. I, too, sometimes disparity at th sway the Church has deteriorated so quickly since Saint John Paul and Pope Benedict. I angst constantly about what to teach. I feel, like yourself, the constant attacks and oppression of the evil one. Sometimes I feel like Jeremiah; at other times like St John Vianney. The ‘smoke of Satan’ is most certainly in the Church. Confusion and implosion of the Catholic Community abounds. For the first time in my life I feel revulsion for Rome and I hate it, having always defended the Church and the dogmas of the faith. As a Catholic Bishop we make a promise of unconditional obedience to the Vicar of Christ. Of course we expect that he will ‘confirm the faith of the brethren’ but now he plays fast footloose and free with the dogmas and with Catholic Tradition trying to play clever semantic games and trying to convince us that his innovations speak of continuity of the faith whereas even an idiot can see the inherent contradictions. I am disgusted with the way senior cardinals in the church are treated with manifest injustice and their points of view and corrections are treated so haughtily, ask if they were composed by idiots rather that great theologians and canonists. Bishops are manoeuvred into silence at the accusation of being disloyal or disrespectful to the reigning Pontiff. The Pope too easily implies divine inspiration with the assistance of the divine Spirit for his innovations while his innovations in the areas of marriage and family life actually put souls at risk because of lack of truth – truth that not even a Pope can change. There exists everywhere, ironically a kind of revisitation to the Victorian age of Infalliblism. A kind of ultramontanism even more extreme than the latter half of the nineteenth century. In a kind of neo-papal positivism, the waking noughts of the reigning Pontiff and his ill thought out musings, or those ghost written by his Argentinian theologian friends, appear to admit if no other explanations. I cannot believe how rapidly the enemy has sown his seeds in the field of the church; I cannot get over how the ‘little foxes’, always a metaphor for the pernicious heresies of the ages, have so quickly entered the Rock of Peter’s faith. And none of us, or few of us Bishops Archbishops Priests, Cardinals cannot see the evils that are coming. No wonder you are depressed Steve. BUT IS SUSPECT YU ARE FAR FROM ALONE IN THIS. Are these the trials promised in the Third Secret? They most certainly are the reasons for the wholesale lapsation in the West even in great Catholic Countries. In countries where heresy, heterodoxy and laxity are seen as progressing the Faith. Where the Church is wealthy but the churches are empty; where our faithful keep the Faith and are scandalised that the Stewards of the Faith do not. WHere the only dontrinsl orthodoxy and obsession is ‘Catholic Social Teaching but the great dogmas of the Faith are played down, ignored or denied – or simply regarded as irrelevant. WHere the zeitgeist rules the day rather than the Holy Spirit. The Church where the number of converts has plummeted and where the reigning Pontiff DISSUADES converts and elevates other religions more than our Divine Catholic Faith, tinkering round with the Catechism of the Catholic Church in the areas that suit him and ignoring the pernicious ‘little foxes’ that lay waste the Lord’s Vineyard. Lord when will you come again and save us? Mother bring us the protection of your Immaculate Heart. Posted by a disillusioned and paralysed Diocesan bishop whose loyalty to the Truth of the Catholic Faith must come before his loyalty to the Successor of Peter. Am I alone among the bishops?

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    • Bishop I am putting you on my prayer list immediately.”Disillusioned Diocesan Bishop”. I know the Lord and Our Blessed Mother know who I am praying for. The laity may be experiencing attacks but I know that you and your brethren and many of our priests have been in a knock down drag out savage and unrelenting assault for awhile now. You are the generals. If the enemy takes you out, the soldiers in the ranks fall quickly. Thank you for holding your ground against these lies and the many Judases who enable them. This must surely be part of the third secret. Our Lady of Akita made reference to bishop against bishop and cardinal against cardinal and here we are. The Blessed Mother WILL bring us her protection and she will get us to the foot of the Cross with her just as she did for St. John. If you feel disillusioned and paralyzed this in itself is an agony akin to physical agony. Spiritual anguish is a terrible suffering but such a powerful offering to Our Lord on the Cross. I am no one to suggest anything to a Bishop for sure, but having suffered my own share of agonies I know that abandonment to God is the one and only way to go. It is in that absolute abandonment that God seems to empower us with the Holy Spirit. I don’t know if you read Fr. Walter Cziszek’s book “He Leadeth Me” but he speaks of a time in a soviet prison threatened witih death when he felt just such paralysis and a sense of betrayal that God had not helped him. But nonetheless he abandoned himself completely to the Divine Will and suddenly great peace surrounded him and things became quite extraordinary after that. He didn’t hear God’s voice or anything like that but things changed radically. the commissar who had interrogated him was unhinged by his peaceful willingness to die rather than betray his faith when just a day before he was a trembling wreck. Perhaps you know all of this already but the book is well worth reading if you haven’t read it. I just want to say thank you for standing fast in the evil day. God bless you.

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    • Let me offer this possibility to your sadness and disillusionment: Don’t discount the little things we can do to work for the Lord in these miserable times. In Lucia’s Memoirs about Fatima http://www.pastorinhos.com/_wp/wp-content/uploads/MemoriasI_en.pdf on page 58, she describes how little Jacinta offered up (remember that expression?) every sacrificial action of her young life, especially her illness to convert sinners. She practiced heavy lifting for Our Lady and shows us the value of supernatural work.
      I am no lover of sacrifice. I find it hard to offer even the smallest easiest thing up. But inspired by Jacinta I have begun with this: Let me give to Blessed Mother the loneliness (the sadness, the anger) I feel as a faithful Catholic when I practice my Faith and there is no one around me who shares it, sees it, gets it.
      You have a huge suffering to offer Our Lady. Go supernatural with it. : ) St. Jacinta, pray for us.

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  22. Yes. Endure. Sometimes that is all one can do. But I think sometimes that even at Mass, when the children are screaming, the altar boy is not paying attention, my veil is scratching my cheeks and driving me crazy, I’m starving, and generally in a bad space enduring is the best plan. I say to Our Lord “Jesus, I just can’t pay attention, please let me just endure. Let me imitate you on the Cross as you endured. I’ll try to do better tomorrow.” And He allows me to do this because sometimes to endure is harder than anything else.

    Reply

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