Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad

Just like E. F. Hutton… people listen.

So here’s a fun story for you all. I have a friend who works construction. It’s a rigorous and rough life, but he is a strong young man trying to make his way in the world to establish himself. Keep him in your prayers because he is hopeful to meet a traditional young woman to marry and have many children with. He has certainly done everything on his end to make this happen including working hard, buying a home (albeit one on wheels), and most importantly, immersing himself in prayer and holy reading and listening.

A few nights ago, he was drifting off to sleep while listening to a recent episode of the Soldiers of the Immaculate podcast, he set a timer so he wouldn’t miss much of the episode when he did finally fall asleep. The next morning at 4:30 AM, he arose and got ready for work. Getting into his truck to head to the job site, he began to pray his routine of morning prayers.

He must’ve been asking for a sign from God or something similar. At a precise moment when he had fallen silent, the Bluetooth in his truck kicked in and immediately started playing the podcast from where it had left off the night before.

And that’s when he heard Father Isaac, Mary Relyea in the most perfect Queens accent, say the following:

“Burn in hell. Burn in hell.”

Obviously, this was apropos of nothing, but it sure gave my friend pause to consider whether he should go to confession and also a hearty chuckle.

If you do not already do so, please subscribe to Fr.‘s podcast.

The incomparable Ed Mazza, ladies and gentlemen:

Just finished watching this. It’s quite odd that Msgr. Bud never mentioned this letter until now. 🧐

If you guessed two of my parish’s five trad priests, you were right.

Friends, if you’ve never invited your parish priests to your home to offer them a meal and some fellowship and to render your thanksgiving to them for the things they day daily that could never be repaid by mere men, you need to get on the bandwagon.

This is a custom my wife and I adopted a few years ago and to our delight and surprise; one that our parish priests seem to truly enjoy. As head of the family, I took it upon myself to initiate the practice. I wanted to express my gratitude to these fine men. They have no wives, no families of their own. I am sure they enjoy the company of their brother priests in the rectory but every now and then I’m sure it’s nice to get out and spend time with their flock.

Let’s face it, what they do for us in offering the Homy Sacrifice of the Mass every day, in forgiving our sins, in blessing us… A meal and a fun night at home is cheap at half the price.

So thank you to our priests. Satan has a bullseye on their backs. I want them to know that we love them and desire to protect them and care for them.

Pray for them. Fast for them. Care for them.

The two who were here tonight are the babies of the parish – half my age. But I love these guys. They’re funny, they’re affable, they’re holy. And above all, they’re manly. So it was just another night for me hanging with the boys.

Our Lady, Mother of Priests, pray for us!

I just heard that malaria has been diagnosed in a man in New Jersey who has not traveled internationally. I haven’t visited my home state in about two months and I don’t have the symptoms so I think I’m safe.

Also, there’s more quinine in my system than one might have found in His Majesty’s Royal Navy in India in the 1800’s so there’s that.

Title says it all.

Please offer up a prayer for your humble blogger that he recovers robust health.

Our Lady, Health of the Sick, pray for us!

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost. Collect.

“O God, Thou manifestest Thy power, particularly in forbearance and pity, show us Thy mercy again and again, so that hastening toward Thy promises we may become partakers of the blessings of heaven.”

Per Dominum Nostrum…

So again I ask your prayers for a new family.