I know about heartbreak and disappointment. I’ve been a Mets fan all my life.
My son and I went to see our New York Mets play here in Texas and for the first time ever, my boy got to see his favorite team win a ball game.
Savor it, son. it doesn’t happen often.
There have been more than a few confessors on the calendar of late and this has given me the opportunity to hear one of my very favorite Communion Verses frequently.
“Fidélis servus et prudens, quem constítuit dóminus super famíliam suam: ut det illis in témpore trítici mensúram.” (Lk. 12:42)
“The faithful and wise servant whom his master set over his family to give them their measure of wheat in due season.”
God grant that this may be said of me. Kind of sums up fatherhood very nicely.
Something very odd has come to my attention. So I would like to pose to you dear readers this question. In all seriousness, if you know the answer or know someone who does, email me. Harvey@harveymillican.com
What are the “rules” regarding saying a Mass not on the day on which you are saying that Mass? In other words, may a priest celebrate 6 Masses for, say, all the Sundays of Lent on Ash Wednesday? One should assume that these are not “dry Masses” as the people involved most likely do not even know that term. Keep in mind this is not the same as saying a votive Mass for a Saint on a day that is not that saint’s feast day. It has been suggested that Fr. Z. might have some insight in this matter I cannot tell. A search of his blog does not seem to yield anything pertaining to the topic. And yes, TV cameras are involved.
More to come…
I’m thankful to my late dad who taught me to fear God and not men.
I had occasion to drive past this sight in the past week.
Apologies for the angle. A passenger in my car took the shot and thought he was being “artistic”. For the confused, this is what’s left of a Dollar Tree distribution center on I-35 in Oklahoma. Imagine that this building is massive. It’s a giant warehouse. And not too long ago, a massive tornado touched down on top of this building in the middle of the night. On the other side of the highway are the remains of a tiny town that was completely destroyed.
It can come just like that.
No warning. No time for reflection.
I pray to be able to utter acts of faith, hope, charity, and contrition as my death nears.
But in the end, it is God’s to decide.
Stay confessed.
Sent to me by my mother-in-law…
No matter.
My flag still flies all year long and the pole is greased with bacon fat.
To which I reply…
To quote another favorite flag of mine,
“Come and take it, bitches.”
Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad 