Blessed Be
This Sunday morning as the bells ring through the dense fog, my waking thought meanders to church, since my body sure the hell won't. Why does everyone feel so damned blessed?
It's the happening thing to feel, or to say you feel. Celebrities and athletes, at a loss for how they landed in the jackpot, find it a convenient explanation. Good message - short, humble and shows not only that they believe in God, but that God picked them for a fabulous life. That God did not pick you, is understood.
I know a thing or two about blessings. Not directly, mind you, but by training. My Meema taught me my prayers, my Bible stories and took me to church when I was a little bitty Kitty. I loved being around her, so whatever we were doing was fun by default. I thought church was kind of speechy, but I learned a lot of latin and got to wear my favorite dress. Gloria Patri, et Filio et Spiritui Sancto. Deo gratias for those blessings and the stinky incense. Amen.
My mom, Sister Marie, went for the built-in church model. She gives thanks for her three failed marriages, her bitch sister and her tenuous grip on reality right in her very own living room. Happy as a sheep with the Lord as her shephard at 85 years crazy, she feels truly blessed. Blessed be those with nine people and one bathroom. Gloria in excelsis Deo.
My aunt, Sister Catherine Marie was blessed with a sign from God. My dad (her brother), knocked up a police dispatcher, left our family to marry the floozy, then died - a dicey proposition for being buried in consecrated ground (a Catholic graveyard). She prayed and prayed- and suddenly, God smote my dad's picture from the wall, and it crashed to the ground. Halleluia! Blessed be the Catholic funeral.
Lesson one in blessing interpretation - always look on the bright side.
There are those who think it's a blessing that Times Square in New York was "cleaned up." Less hookers and hustlers, more Mickey and Goofy. That spirit has wafted to the West Coast, specifically on Highway 30 between Astoria and Portland.
There's an abandoned bar with an enormous sign that used to say TOPLESS. Some blessed tagger spraypainted the clever revision - TO.BLESS.
Go in peace, and keep your shirt on.
Amen.
It's the happening thing to feel, or to say you feel. Celebrities and athletes, at a loss for how they landed in the jackpot, find it a convenient explanation. Good message - short, humble and shows not only that they believe in God, but that God picked them for a fabulous life. That God did not pick you, is understood.
I know a thing or two about blessings. Not directly, mind you, but by training. My Meema taught me my prayers, my Bible stories and took me to church when I was a little bitty Kitty. I loved being around her, so whatever we were doing was fun by default. I thought church was kind of speechy, but I learned a lot of latin and got to wear my favorite dress. Gloria Patri, et Filio et Spiritui Sancto. Deo gratias for those blessings and the stinky incense. Amen.
My mom, Sister Marie, went for the built-in church model. She gives thanks for her three failed marriages, her bitch sister and her tenuous grip on reality right in her very own living room. Happy as a sheep with the Lord as her shephard at 85 years crazy, she feels truly blessed. Blessed be those with nine people and one bathroom. Gloria in excelsis Deo.
My aunt, Sister Catherine Marie was blessed with a sign from God. My dad (her brother), knocked up a police dispatcher, left our family to marry the floozy, then died - a dicey proposition for being buried in consecrated ground (a Catholic graveyard). She prayed and prayed- and suddenly, God smote my dad's picture from the wall, and it crashed to the ground. Halleluia! Blessed be the Catholic funeral.
Lesson one in blessing interpretation - always look on the bright side.
There are those who think it's a blessing that Times Square in New York was "cleaned up." Less hookers and hustlers, more Mickey and Goofy. That spirit has wafted to the West Coast, specifically on Highway 30 between Astoria and Portland.
There's an abandoned bar with an enormous sign that used to say TOPLESS. Some blessed tagger spraypainted the clever revision - TO.BLESS.
Go in peace, and keep your shirt on.
Amen.
posted by Kitty O'Keefe at 7:20 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home