Now that the Oscars are over with (bummer that Mother Dolores didn’t win! Oh well!), here’s a simple little post to give you all something to think about for Lent. After all, as I’ve mentioned in years past, St. John Chrysostom described Lent, I think, very well in saying that it is a time for “fasting from sin.” 

So here’s a question: what do these sinners all have in common? (The answer is in the comments!)

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You know, I haven’t watched the Oscars since I was in high school. My sister loved watching them and since we only had one TV in the house, we all had to watch it or find something else to do.

This year I will at least watch the red carpet stuff, and perhaps I’ll watch the rest of it if Billy Crystal is on his game (man is he hilarious!). But this year I have a good reason to watch; one of my friends will be attending:

But that was taken years ago when she was a rising starlet in Hollywood, famous for resembling Grace Kelly and for giving Elvis Presley his first on-screen kiss; in fact she had to kiss him a few times because both of them were so shy they blushed and make-up crews had to come in and hide it!

At the height of her promising career she felt a deeper longing in her heart that only God could satisfy, and so she left it all behind and entered a Benedictine convent on the East coast.

Now she is Mother Dolores Hart, OSB

She and I have been penpals for a few years now, ever since I heard about her, and she’s been such a good spiritual friend and, really, a spiritual mother for me. I am hoping to finally meet her in person this summer, God-willing!

 

This year there is a short documentary about her life that has been nominated for an Oscar, and she plans to attend. She is the only nun that is a part of the Academy so for the past years you’ve been watching the Academy Awards, she has seen those movies and cast her vote (don’t ask me how she voted this year; I never asked!). So when you see a nun walking that red carpet Sunday night, now you know “the rest of the story,” as the late Paul Harvey would say. 

Please root for my dear friend, Mother Dolores!

 

Here’s a good article about it all: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/02/15/oscars-2012-mother-dolores-hart-elvis_n_1279731.html

 

Dawn came, and though he had arriven many hours before Médash chose to tie his horse under the small grove of trees and then sit at a wooden table near a small wicker shed, waiting. Hour after hour he poured through all memory of Rodhél, scrutinizing the response of his heart to each, and when it was that the red sun arose shimmering above the ocean of sand so, too, did the realization of love arise in his heart. Before he knew what to say to his beloved, however, she stepped outside into the glory of the morn, the wind playing out her raven hair and swaying her pale skirt. Words failed him, and naught but his tears greeted her as he stood, clad in his white robe and girt about in a simple kilt. Bare chest heaving, lips trembling, he fell to his knees and did her homage, his kingly locks covering his abashed face.

“My lord!” Rodhél exclaimed, dropping an empty jug and racing to him. She knelt and lifted his face in her hands as she said, “My lord, what troubles you? What have you to do with me again this day after sending me from your sight?”

“My lady,” said he, but only by great effort, “I am the King of Gold, with wealth enough to purchase ten kingdoms, yet I had not until your departure tasted the bitterness of penury. My pride, wounded by being so easily deceived, blinded me utterly to your goodness, and I beg you forgive me. God has taken away my blindness, and I feel unworthy to view what it is that He has revealed to my poor heart!”

Rodhél dried his tears with her hair, gently as he had never known gentleness, and said to him, “My lord, you are forgiven, for never did I hold you in contempt. Your actions were just, for I should have come to you in the light and not in the shadow as though a demon or some other creature. Yet my awe of your majesty and the baseness of my ignorant treatment of you when last you came to my home made me a coward, and for that I have done my penance.”

“And likewise, my lady, have I done mine, for though I have fought many a battle and bore many wounds, and though I have suffered countless things in my centuries of life I have not suffered, truly, but in these past weeks of your being parted from me.” Then he looked into her eyes as though peering into a new and wondrous land for the first time, as in days of old when a wandering Elven lord came over the top of a high hill and glanced, but for a moment, into the valley of Héleredh where Adama and Eva once did dwell, before an angel of the Lord came and hid it from all sight. For long did Médash gaze into her, and his heart then felt alien in all the world as though it had found, at long last, the home of its birth and belonging. He knew in that moment that the world would bear him no comfort unless his heart rested in hers.

“Rodhél, in these weeks alone have I come to realize that in spite of all my wealth there is one treasure I long above all others, yet it is beyond even my riches to purchase, and I fear that without this treasure I will have no joy in this world.”

Her eyes went wide and she said, “My lord, what would you have me do to help you obtain this treasure? For I have naught but an elderly father, a horse, and some pomegranates.”

Médash said not a word, instead taking her calloused but graceful hand into his own, and the look of his eyes spoke to her soul all that she desired to know.

A single tear, lit all aglow as a golden jewel by the still rising sun, wound its way down her cheek and trembled upon the precipice of her jaw before it fell to the earth. She grasped his hand, and the both of them embraced, crying out with joy. But it was not to last, for behold did come unto them her father, clothed in a rough spun tunic and leaning heavily on a stick.

“Horse-thief! What have you again to do with us, eater of pomegranates?”

“My lord, I…”

“Father!” said Rodhél, “He is no horse-thief; he is our king.”

The old man stopped a moment and looked upon Médash, spying the golden hand embroidered on the breast of his white robe, “That may well be when he is within his districts, when he sits upon the mountain and beholds the Salduar Forests to the east, the Wastes to the west, the Gharamere to the north and the Sanabhoro River to the south. But beyond his sight is our home, and thus is he subject to me. I am called Drostérn, but you have leave to call me ‘lord’ that our places may be well remembered here.”

Médash did him homage, as was right, and he said, “Begging your pardon, lord, but it is that Médash, a man, seeks the hand of your daughter in marriage.”

“She has no dowry,” was the old man’s reply.

“She need none, lord, and you need not fear any shame because of it.”

“She has no veil, for her mother’s perished to moth a century ago.”

“She would have one made for her of silver thread and moonlight if she desires!”

The old man, for a time looking quite regal, seemed to age again before the sight of all when he said wearily, “If I permit you to take her hand and the rest of her following, you take from me my every joy in this world. Thus I must deny you. So long as I have her I am the richer, for when I die it will not be my few possessions that testify on my behalf before my Judge, but my daughter. ”

His words smote the king to the heart. Rodhél then moved to stand before her father, saying not a thing, and the two stood as that for what seemed a day to Médash-King. Then, sighing heavily as though a groan from within the depths of the earth, Drostérn said, “Man, if you desire my daughter to be your bride, you must offer me her weight in gold that it may be my livelihood in her absence. Grant me this, and she shall be your queen. ”

The king said solemnly, pressing his closed fist over the golden hand on his robe in pledge, “This do I swear: should you and your daughter deign to accompany me back to my palace I shall grant you her weight in gold, as well as grant you all else that you should desire for your life-long provision.”

A wagon was secured to the king’s great warhorse, a humiliating task for so grand a creature, but the horse bore it obediently, and within the wagon rode Rodhél and her father. Thus did King Médash ride again into Acton, clad in his night robe and kilt, bearing behind him a crude wagon with what appeared to be two common folk. The trumpets and watchmen all hailed him in spite of the strangeness of his attire, for kings are not made so by raiment. The fanfare called all manner of people into the streets, and in moments news spread as wildfire that Rodhél had returned to the mountain. As the king made his way through the city, flower petals began to rain from above as women and girls threw them from windows and rooftops, and a thick joy filled the atmosphere like honey and milk.

The three broke fast together, and when all had eaten, bathed and dressed the king met with Rodhél and Drostérn, saying, “Let us go to the treasury, that we none of us may wait a moment longer for our happiness to be complete.” Litters were brought for the each of them, and within the hour they had passed through many guard posts and secured doors into a vast chamber filled with chests and shelves on which sat leather sacks of gold and jewels. Windows made of quartz and other transparent stone filled the place with such light that ignited the riches like fire, and the sight of it filled all with awe. In the center of the chamber was a grand scale large enough that a pair of oxen could easily stand on one side to be weighed.

Disembarking from their litters to sit at ease on plush cushions, the king then explained to Rodhél and her father that she would stand on one side of the great scale while Médash had his servants begin placing sacks of gold on the other. Once the scale was balanced, all that was upon the scale would belong to Drostérn. With this her father was satisfied, and thus did Rodhél go to stand upon the scale. It slowly dropped so that its pan rested upon the floor with her weight, and servants were ordered to bring gold until the scale balanced. Sack after sack of gold was brought forward, and even after the number which Médash thought would be sufficient had been surpassed, still the scale had not moved at all! Soon twelve great sacks of gold coins had been brought—easily the weight of a strong bull—and yetthe scale refused to balance.

He then thought perhaps the scale had become broken, and so he bid Rodhél to step off for a moment. As soon as she left the plate the side with the gold crashed to the floor with a sound that rang throughout the mountain, and when he bid her return to the scale behold! the plate that bore her gently came to rest upon the floor as though she weighed the greater. Médash ordered a dozen more servants to come to the treasury, and soon a great line of them stretched from the scale to the shelves, one strong man handing a sack of gold coin to the next and so on until the last man heaped it upon the scale. In three hours time there was such a mound of gold upon the scale that the chains bearing it broke and all came crashing and ringing about, never having lifted Rodhél from the floor an inch, nor even a height through which one could thread a hair.

Hello all! I was asked to maybe do a post on Ash Wednesday/Lent, and I was hoping to but by the time I get to it this week we’ll be well past the point of being relevant! However I found a couple of posts I did on the same subject last year and two years prior that I hope will be hopeful. God bless you all; I’m praying for you! And of course via my last pulse I’m still accepting prayer requests and will continue to do so throughout these forty days.

Dauabré stood trembling before the Golden Throne, feeling as though the sun was bearing all its fiery gaze upon her as not only Médash sat before her, but so too did Edhsél, Lílabhél and Bhélmal. The king said not a word but simply watched her. In his heart he knew then her beauty, saw the white light of the sun bathing her as it poured in through a high window, how it tinged the edges of her raven circlets of hair with silver and cast such shadows on her face that the color of her bright eyes burned like wind-thrilled embers. Yet his mind wrestled with doubt and shame: doubt because of her grand deception at playing a princess when she was as common as the sand from which she came and shame at how greatly impressed he had been with all he had seen of her when the veil of that deception was before his eyes, and how that shame only deepened now that all had been revealed.

            “My lord,” she dared to say, “will you hear my truth?”

            He said not a word either way, and so she dared further.

            “My lord, I came to you all those days ago that I might seek your pardon for calling you a horse-thief and believing you to be not a king. But thrice you denied me, sending me gold for my troubles. So compelled was I by my shame at dishonoring the king and so strong was my desire to seek your forgiveness that I took the gold you had given me and used it to purchase the fine raiment in which you came to receive me. I thought that were I not a peasant but rather a princess, you would hear me. Little did I know that you had received other princesses and were discerning which among them you would take to wife. All the while I sought but a moment to confess to you the truth, but such a moment was constantly denied. Truly did I test your every word and deed in my heart, my lord, to weigh you and judge whether you were a goodly man. By these things and the testimony of your people, my king, I did not find you wanting in any way, and in the light of this I feel as though a naked traitor worthy of death for my deception.”

            It was then that Lílabhél arose and begged leave to depart, to which the king inquired her reason. “Médash-King, my lord, my heart can take no more and I find that I yearn for the comfort of my homelands. I thank you, most deeply, for all your hospitality and for even bearing the sight of me in your great halls. I only hope that when you choose your bride, Majesty, that you consider me a future friend, for I wish to be half so great a queen as the woman you take to your side.” With a graceful bow and not another word Lílabhél walked silently away, and the king was puzzled, for in the way she spoke it was as though she already knew whom he would choose, though he knew not at all.

            Mustering his kingly resolve he spoke to the unveiled woman, “Tell me, then, what is your name? For it is not Dauabré and surely it is not Sulbhél as it was those days in the desert?”

            “One thousands pardons, my king; my name is Rodhél and naught else, for though my father indeed governs a vast portion of the desert and watches it vigilantly for all that might bring harm to your Majesty’s people his name is not of the kind that is heralded by trumpets; thus a common name for a common woman, the daughter of a common man.”

            “Very well,” spoke the king, “Rodhél, because of your conduct while here within my courts and the joy you have brought to my people I permit you to leave without punishment or any burden greater than that which you impose upon yourself. Keep all that you have been given, whether by myself or by my people, but return not again to this mountain.” Silence followed, and a single tear rolled down the face of Rodhél who, softly, asked the king’s leave to speak one last time, and so such leave was given.

            “Majesty, when it was that I stood in the fitting room of the cloth merchant being clothed in such splendid raiment as I had never before known, I had no intention whatsoever of considering a husband. I sought merely to parlay with you, and that is all. The veil that I wore in order to hide my common face brought not only anonymity but earned such graciousness from you as had never been shown me by another man before, and thus did my heart grow wary and joyful all at once. What’s more is that in spite of my commonality I yet found esteem among these high-born women who came to court you and I admit, my lord, that a part of me hoped perhaps the lowliness of your servant would be overlooked. I know now, however, that even were I chosen from among the spray of lilies that you gathered from the great kingdoms the truth would be discovered, and naught but a dandelion would you find in your hand, so common as to disgrace so great a king. I had planned and made provision, therefore, to depart on the morrow—the promised seventh day—but silently in the late watch of the night. I bear the Lady Edhsél no grudge for discovering me; it is God’s will that I be humbled for my pride.”

Rodhél then bowed, acknowledging the Abharakéan princess, which caused the huntress such great pleasure that she permitted a bright, white smile to shine out. Secretly, however, she saw the humiliation and departure of her chief competitor for the king’s heart and felt her victory was assured. The king then stood solemnly, pointing west. He spoke.

“Rodhél, I grant you leave to depart. Go in peace.”

She said nothing, offering as graceful a bow as her quaking flesh could impart. When fully out of sight from the western window of his hall it was then that Bhélmal stood, lip trembling, and the king asked in alarm, “What troubles you, my lady?”

The beauty-of-the-sea continued to look at the exit through which Rodhél had so recently passed as though looking afar off to a ship on the horizon, “My lord, so noble a woman I have not met, and such nobility I have not known; I am utterly ashamed.” Without asking for the king’s leave she departed hurriedly for her chambers and was on her way to her homeland by nightfall. Thus did King Médash find himself standing alone with no one but Edhsél in his company, and her heart swelled.

“Majesty…I have no words to expressed how honored I am…”

“For what?” he said of a sudden, cutting off her words as though with a sword.

“That I am yet here, my lord, that I alone remain…that of the daughters of the snows, the seas, the forests and the deserts I am yet here to be your queen, if you will have me.” With this she stood mightily, and the sight of her was almost like a torch, for such was her confidence and pride. But Médash felt his heart sink, and thus too did he permit his whole self to sink back into his great throne, seeming now so cold and hard to him.

“Edhsél you have not been chosen; you have been left.”

What seemed an hour of agonizing quiet was but a few breaths in duration, yet during that time Edhsél had pondered each possible meaning of the king’s words; none made sense to her.

“I do not understand; is this not what you desired, to have one of us remain for you to take to wife?”

“Edhsél, for all your strength and pride you are yet easily wounded, so I beg you listen with understanding and patience for your lord. You would not have been my choice, and though I had hoped to have several days more to ponder the matter the answer has been made plain to me. In these past days you have competed for me as though I were a trophy of some kind, as though your noble sisters were competitors. Such a game was not my intention, for I did not expect to receive five princesses all at once. But eager were all of you to court me, for which I was flattered, but I see now how cruel it must have been for all of you to suffer the presence of one another when it was but my company alone that you desired.”

“Do you not desire me, my lord? Am I not desirable?” At this she seemed somehow to grow in beauty, as though a spell were cast. His eyes however were not upon her, but rather looked at some unseen thing just beyond her.

“You are desirable in many ways, noble Edhsél; in this I would not dare say otherwise lest I tell a lie. You are proud and you are boastful. You are cruel at times and crafty in ways that seek to have your desire done over the desires of others. You rejoice in the losses of others and flaunt your own victories. I have no doubt whatsoever that in your land such a queen as your like would be greatly sought for and praised, for the land of Abharakéa is treacherous and breeds hard folk for hard living. Here in my land, my house, a softer woman is needed. Thus, unlike your sisters who left of their own will, and unlike Rodhél whom I ordered away, I ask you kindly to depart and to take my good tidings to your father.”

Edhsél’s face twisted into an expression of anger though she said not a word, her footfalls ringing in the empty hall like intermittent hail on flagstone. When she was gonhad departed the mountain e and the trumpets saluted her from atop the walls, Médash wept, for it was then that he was alone.

 

The moon was eaten by the night a full time and birthed anew nearly twice when Médash awoke from his sleep, hearing a voice that spoke his name. Searching his bedchamber for the voice’s bearer he found naught but a white feather, and thus did he fall to his knees, saying aloud, “My God, why do you torment me so? I have not rested a full eve since the departure of your royal daughters; have I displeased you? Speak to me, Lord; I am no king but merely a child.”

His sorrowing heart was startled nigh on to ceasing altogether when of a sudden a white dove fluttered and perched on the sill of his window. A thrill coursed through him as he remembered that fateful night when first he came upon Rodhél and all his happy life was upturned. Médash stared hard at the dove, straight into its small eyes black like little beetles that blinked innocently at him, and his heart began to weigh upon him as memories of Rodhél seeped in from all the strange and varied places he’d hid them. He remembered the sweetness of her singing while she gently spread salve upon his burns and how beautiful was her song on the day of the grand tournament. He recalled too how nobly she bore herself when disguised as Dauabré, how she sought always to please him in all she did, seeking never to impress him by her own skill. The people of the mountain still spoke of her, how it was that she saved Celereshél from certain doom at the horse race, and how she so patiently bore the scrutiny and competition of Edhsél. No memory wounded him so deep nor stuck so fast as the look of her eyes upon his very soul when she begged his forgiveness, when he dismissed her with hardly a word.

At that the dove flew out over the sands, and the king ran to the sill where it was perched to see in what direction it advanced. Eyes brimming with tears as memory upon memory overwhelmed him, the sight of Médash was yet clear enough to see that the bird was flying in the same direction as before, to the west, and it was then that all mystery was shattered in the clarity of his thought. Thus again did Médash ride for the wastes, but this time he knew well the way.

So @passionflwr86 tagged me for the Seven Things thing but I was in Wyoming at the time visiting family! So while I am way behind and everyone I’d have likely tagged has already been tagged by others, I’ll fire off seven random things you may not know about me anyways. It may not be as popular as the last time I did this, but here goes!

 

And yes, in due time I will continue posting portions of The Debtor King; we are closing on the end!

 

1. I only watch TV four times a week.

If Fox had never cancelled Firefly, I’d watch TV five times a week.

 

2. From birth until kindergarten, I had severe epilepsy.

According to my mother, it is by the grace of God and the miraculous apparatus known as the defibrillator that I am here typing this now! I spent a great deal of time in hospitals as a wee child, though I have only two memories.

One memory is watching the fireworks of Independence Day; I must have been three of four years old. I remember standing at the big window of my hospital room and then I turned around to ask my mom, “Mommy, why is the sky crying?”

My other memory is lying on my hospital bed with an IV in both of my skinny little arms, Garfield bandages and cotton balls all over the place, watching some National Geographic special on gorillas with my mom.

Not long before I started kindergarten I remember going to an appointment to see if I still had epilepsy; I apparently hadn’t had a seizure in a good long while (not that anyone was disappointed). I was going to have an EEG so they glued all these electrode things to my head (the glue smelled like nail polish) and then they said they wanted to give me something so I’d go to sleep. I said, “No, I can go to sleep by myself,” so I lay down, closed my eyes, and went to sleep to the amazement of all. They didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, and though no one was able to explain it, my epilepsy–as severe a case as it was–was totally gone and never, ever came back.

 

3. In second grade I had a post-graduate reading level.

I devoured books as a youngster, and in my elementary years I was already tackling adult-level (not adult-rated, mind you!) books like Jurassic Park and such. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but looking back I can see how my parents and teachers must have thought that was pretty neat. I’m glad, though, that it didn’t go to my head; it probably would not have been prudent to brag to the senior kids on my bus that I could read at a more advanced level than they could!

 

4. I was in eighth grade when a movie first made me cry.

I had already seen “The Last of the Mohicans” many, many times; it was my favorite movie and is still definitely in my Top Ten. But for some reason one day in eighth grade I was watching it after school, by myself, and the part shortly after Magua slays Uncas came up, there was a shift in my soul. I watched Alice Munro step toward the edge, I finally noticed the music, the soft rain that began to fall, the even softer thunder in the distance and the look on her face and then she leaps to her death to escape what was sure to be a far worse fate. I bawled like a baby! I didn’t understand it at all, but I bawled and I have no shame admitting it; that scene is so utterly tragic and beautiful at the same time.

5. Top Five Influential Movies Ever.

Let’s see if I can even do this! They follow in no particular order; I couldn’t even begin to order them according to preference. I know most people go for a Top Five Favorites or so, but I figured I’d give y’all something different.

1. Braveheart: this movie had such an impact on me when I watched it. I saw a hero, finally, and though I understood that the movie romanticized the actual William Wallace almost to the point of being about a completely different person altogether, nevertheless I was deeply struck with the character and the whole movie. I loved the music, the scenery, but I think what stirred me most was that all his passion, his drive for everything he did, came from the love he not only had for his wife but continued to have for her, even after her death. At a time when I was feeling so alone, totally unworthy of love at all and overlooked by every woman I encountered, I still found myself inspired to hope that maybe, someday, I’d find my own Murron and perhaps even something worth fighting and dying for. Who knew that my Murron would be the Bride of Christ–the Church–and the Faith my cause? I certainly didn’t!

This movie was so influential that in my senior year of high school, when my mother said that she would take me anywhere in the whole world for two weeks since I did so well in all twelve years of school, I choose to make a William Wallace pilgrimage. We flew to London two weeks after 9-11 (a very interesting time to fly but a blessed time to be an American abroad; I’ve never been treated so kindly by anyone simply for being from the USA) and then went to York (sacked by Wallace in the movie though I don’t know if it ever happened for real!) which was absolutely beautiful. The cathedral there is absolutely breath-taking! Then up to Edinburgh, Stirling (where the amazing Wallace Monument and Stirling Castle are both located!) and finally Loch Ness and Loch Lomond because–hello–we were in SCOTLAND!

And since we were in Scotland, I got my kilt, which I still have.

 

2. First Knight: At the time I was a hopeless romantic and loved anything related to King Arthur. What this movie did for me was to help me grow in something I needed desperately, though I didn’t know it: courage. I was in seventh grade, socially-awkward, shy and very rarely spoke up in class (at least I seem to remember being this way). If ever I had to speak in front of the class I was terrified. I saw myself as a total loser, had only a few friends who for the most part were social outcasts like me. Then I saw Lancelot, and though I was mad at him for screwing things up between Arthur and Guinevere, he taught me an important lesson, or so I thought.

There is a scene shortly after Lancelot runs The Gauntlet successfully and Arthur asks him where he gets such courage. Lancelot says that he has nothing to lose–no land, money, home, family, etc.–and thus he has no fear. What I did catch was that Arthur said that a man with nothing to lose has nothing to live for, or something along those lines, but I was fixed on what Lancelot said because that is how I felt: I had nothing to lose, so what was I always so afraid of? Looking back I saw that I had so much: home, family, things and people I loved, few but true friends, talents, and so on. But what this did was embolden me to not be so afraid any more, and so my fear of speaking in front of the class, being a little more outgoing socially, not caring what others thought about how geeky I was and all else came about and by the time I graduated high school I was a completely different person. While my understanding of where my courage comes from has changed drastically, it all started with Lancelot’s somewhat sad explanation of the origin of his. But God can make marvelous things out of clay, don’t you think?

 

3. The Original Star Wars Trilogy: I think I covered that well enough the first time I did this Seven Things thing!

 

4. The Last of the Mohicans: I totally fell in love with this movie. I was never really a lover of listening to music until in the sixth grade when I “discovered” Beethoven and Aaron Copland’s “Appalachian Springs” in music class. In my search for beautiful music I stumbled on the cassette recording of this film’s soundtrack and so began a life-long love of film scores. Before I entered the Society of Jesus I had well over 300 CDs, over 250 of which were film scores. I gave about half of them away to various friends and the rest remain at my mom’s house.

This film also awakened in me a love of nature and a desire to be adventurous. That movie still stirs my heart, and I can’t help but feel the urge to sling a rifle over my shoulders and just run full-tilt through a forest. When exploring the timbered areas along the creek east of the house I grew up in I always carried an old hatchet on my belt, and I even made a gunstock-style warclub like Chingachgook used in the movie. I high school my best friend and I thoroughly explored all the wooded areas around my house and went on many adventures, and all the while the soundtrack to this movie would play in my head. Some of my most beautiful memories of those years are of exploring those forests, but I’d have never had the urge to see what lay behind the curtain of trees in the distance had I not seen this movie. To this day I love this music, this movie, and exploring new forested areas when I have a chance.

5. Dragonheart: Yep, and I only ever saw it one time! But the character of Bowen resonated deeply with me. He was looked upon as old-fashioned, out-dated and pretty much useless by everyone simply because he felt strong and true to the Knight’s Code and lived faithfully, courageously and authentically by it. I felt like him; I was somewhat old-fashioned my own self, especially when it came to ideas about how one ought to treat/respect women, ideas about sexuality (waiting until marriage, etc.), respecting teachers, holding doors open for people, and all manner of other things. Even up into my senior year of high school I had very few guy friends (though my this time the guys in my class had ceased ridiculing me for never having “scored,” among other things) but many friends who were girls. They trusted me, confided in me and for the most part all the guys around me hated me for it and that, my friends, is a pretty awesome feeling to be hated for such a thing! While I never had a girlfriend in my whole K-12 education (a great irony, I know), I had a level of affection and, frankly, love from more women than any number of notches any guy on the football team claimed to have on his belt. Note: Yes, I have suffered a great deal because of the respect I’ve shown women throughout my life. But, ladies, please let these words sink very deep into your hearts: YOU ARE WORTH ALL OF IT. Don’t ever forget that!

All this to say that, yes, I saw myself in Bowen. And so, one fateful night, using the Code from this movie, I made my own Oaths of Chivalry, of course seeking to exercise them as was appropriate to the modern age I (unfortunately, I felt!) was living in! I used to recite them daily and I still remember them:

A knight is sworn to valor; his heart knows only virtue; his blade defends the helpless; his might upholds the weak; his word speaks only truth; his wrath undoes the wicked.

When I became a Knight of Columbus as a college freshman, it was like a dream come true. But as I made this oath of chivalry my freshman year of high school, I had NO idea I would be a knight serving the King of Heaven! I can see very plainly, however, how making this dramatic choice back then naturally led me to the life I am living today. As corny as it seems now to look back upon the influence this film had on me, it marked a crucial turning point in my life.

 

6. I’ve Never Seen the Ocean.

Sad fact! But I tell you what, there’s hardly anything more beautiful to me than when I used to lay in my bed on a cool summer’s night with the window open so I could listen to the vast corn field rustling in a soft breeze; that was my ocean. It is heartbreaking to think that I’ll never lay in that bed, in that house, by those fields ever again.

 

7. I Have a Bucket List of Sorts

And here it is! These aren’t so much things I must do before I die, but rather things I would like to do at some point in my life. Granted, some are very far-fetched, but if dreams must always be realistic then they hardly are worth dreaming.

-Meet Her Majesty Queen Rania of Jordan

Most beautiful woman in the world, and amazing to boot.

-Fly in a B-29 Superfortress

Well, turns out there is only one in the whole world that can still fly, and it costs like $500 to do it. However, as the Holy Spirit would have it, I happened to attend the AirVenture Airshow in Oshkosh, WI this past summer where FiFi, the very last airworthy B29, made an appearance. I got to look up inside it and see her flying around so I considered this item “fulfilled” on July 29th, 2011. I’ve loved the B29 ever since I saw pictures of it as a kid, that big, beautiful silver plane…

-See the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus

I remembered seeing it as a kid, but now that my appreciation for the sheer talent that circus performing requires, I wanted to see it again as an adult. And so on November 12th of 2011 I got to see it in Rosemont, Illinois. St. Irenaeus of Lyons said, “The glory of God is man fully alive.” Granted, he wasn’t talking about the circus, but seeing the amazing feats of human strength and agility at the circus brought his quote to mind. Truly the greatest show on earth!

-Go to Ireland

As before mentioned, I got as close as Scotland; what a beautiful country! But Ireland is one of the lands of my ancestors: the others I know of being North America (been there, obviously!), Wales, northern Germany and the Czech Republic (or Bohemia as my grandmother still calls it). 

-See Stonehenge

I just think it would be awesome, and I’ve always been fascinated by it.

-Go back to Loch Ness.

It is such a beautiful area and some days I find myself pining for it a bit.

-Meet the Pope

This could realistically happen if I can just get to Rome!!!

-See the Pyramids of Giza

Who WOULDN’T want to! Again, a life-long fascination.

-Sail on a sailing SHIP.

Three masts at least, moving in the water and not merely tied up on a dock or in a museum. I think sailing ships are so beautiful and it is sad that there are so few left in the world. But then again I am a living anachronism (ironically typing the very same admission on a laptop and publishing it on the internet).

-Ride on a steam engine.

Apparently I did as some museum as a youngster, but I hardly remember it. Basically I want to for the same reasons as the sailing ship!

-Visit the Shrine of the North American Martyrs

Look up these heroic Jesuits who brought the faith to Canada and the northeastern US; they were my heroes in novitiate. In the summer of 2009 I got to visit the Midland Shrine in Ontario and walk the very ground upon which walked these great men and under which two of them were buried. It was such a gift; I highly recommend a visit. I hope to visit the Shrine in Auriesville, NY some day to see the grave of my favorite of them–St. Isaac Jogues–and I imagine that I will at some point.

-Follow in the footsteps of William Wallace.

Check!

-Hear Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony live.

On September 28th, 2007–the day before my birthday–I finally got to hear a live performance of the music that changed my life forever in the sixth grade.

-Hear Mozart’s Requiem live.

November 2nd, 2006. There is a parish in St. Paul, MN that celebrates the Mass for All Soul’s Day and invites a chamber orchestra and chorus to provide Mozart’s Requiem as the musical setting for the liturgy. It is one thing entirely to sit in a concert hall and behold this glorious music (I had the pleasure of doing so a few years ago in St. Louis) but to experience the Requiem in the context of a beautifully celebrated, solemn, Latin Mass (Novus Ordo, too!) is a different category of experience altogether. It was the first time in my life where I exclaimed within myself, “Why doesn’t the whole WORLD want to be Catholic!” There were many experiences to come later in which I would feel my heart leap similarly, but this was the first. 

I of course went again the next year!

-See all six Star Wars films in the theater.

Thanks to the Special Edition releases in the late 1990s, this dream came true.

Yes I plan on seeing them in 3D; I LOVE seeing these movies in a theater setting.

-See a million dollars.

In the summer of 2005 my girlfriend and her mother invited me to Las Vegas. I really went for two reasons: a) to be with my girlfriend on a free trip to Las Vegas and b) to go to the Hilton for the Star Trek experience (which was AWESOME). There, in the lobby of the Hilton, in a bullet-proof glass box, was a million dollars in cash. I’d never seen so much money in my whole life.

I still remember when I was eight years old and got my first twenty-dollar bill. 

 

 

So there you go! Seven more things you probably didn’t know about me! Hopefully as I get settled back in to Milwaukee I’ll have a chance to post the next portion of The Debtor King.

Here’s this year’s poem again, by itself, for those who missed it. Spread Jesus’ love to everyone, especially those who feel particularly unloved today.

 

“Star-Crossed Love” 

My love, my love, wherefore art thou, my love? 

Deny thy father and refuse thy sin 

that thy king who with thee hath fallen in

love may grant thee Himself, thy treasure-trove. 

Savior I, sinner thou; what’s in a name? 

For I by any other prove as sweet, 

since in my flesh our varied natures meet 

as lovers two, in love, be one-in-same.

Ah, but death; parting is such sweet sorrow!

Thus did I suffer its happy dagger, 

bore uphill its weight ‘neath bleed and stagger,

pierced—ah!—my heart, poured out, love to follow 

‘fore tomb black. But soft, what light be breaking? 

Mine ever-love for thee, new and waking.

That evening King Médash attended personally to young Celereshél, dabbing her pale forehead with a damp cloth and seeing to it that every comfort was provided for. She rewarded his every kindness with a smile so sweet that his heart yearned to see the next, yet he found his heart for her beat more like that of a father than a prince. Sore was he to realize this, and thus did he endeavor within himself to discover what words would best express his disposition. Mercifully he was spared this, for Celereshél knew well her own heart, in spite of her youth.

            “My kind lord,” she began, taking his hand gently into her own and clasping it to her breast, “on the morrow I shall go hence unto my home in the north and there remain. I do thank you so and offer you my deepest gratitude for your hospitality, but most of all that you have deigned even once to look upon me with affection. I know now that I am not suited to be your queen, for I am far too young to bear the wisdom necessary for good judgment, nor have I the strength to endure long the rigors of this desert place. Please do not mourn my going, nor receive it as insult; were it not for your having received me here I might never have known these things. Now, because of your goodness, I shall be a better queen for it, in God’s time.”

            The king was without words so he knew not what to do but kiss gently her forehead, thus bidding her goodnight and farewell. When all came to break fast on the morning of the sixth day and found Celereshél’s chair empty, none made inquiry, for word had traveled fast from the watchmen and through the city, though her absence did make levity for a time seem improper. Thus were the remaining princesses given leave to have a day of leisure while the king pondered in solitude the events of the week.

To markets, to artists, to musicians they each of them scattered, yet from afar Edhsél noticed Dauabré entering a lowly inn, doing so in a manner that sought to avoid note. Pulling her mantle over her head the hunter-princess of House Abharek entered the inn some time afterward and listened as Dauabré spoke to the innkeeper, giving him the pouch of gold Médash had supplied her with for the day’s activities and asking that whatever was not needed for the payment of the room she was keeping ought to be sent to her father in the desert. When the veiled princess departed Edhsél climbed the stairs to the room mentioned and, finding it unlocked, opened it and entered. Therein did she discover clothes of great plainness as she had not seen except on beggars and exiles, and too upon a small table was an unfinished letter within which was written:

“My dearest father,

            For my pride I am being sorely tested! The horse-thief we sheltered was truly the king as he had claimed, yet in order to speak with him in apology I had to do something quite bold, and now I am caught in a great deception. I hope every morning to have but one private moment alone with him, that I might make the truth plain to him and to beg his mercy, but no such moment has yet been willed by God. I hope to return soon, but I can make no promise. Please take this gold and use it to purchase what food you need while I am away; the king is so generous that if I am prudent I may be able to send more before I depart…”

 

            Edhsél’s heart raced and her lips curled in a victorious grin. Clutching the letter in her hand she left the inn and hailed a rickshaw to bear her hence to the king. His heart was smote to the core, and none saw him until the next dawning, pale-faced and eyes red with lack of sleep.

 

 

 

 

Yes, a shorter excerpt this week, and quite the cliff hanger! However on Tuesday I will be flying out to Wyoming to spend a week with family so I won’t be updating until after the 15th or so. To make sure I don’t miss my yearly tradition of writing an original poem for all the ladies of Xanga–especially those without a Valentine of their own!–I wanted to make sure to post it now so I don’t miss later!

My dear sisters, mothers and daughters, enjoy this year’s poem and know that you are all loved more than anything I write could possibly tell you. And please, if you enjoy it or know of anyone else on Xanga who could use some Valentine’s Day cheer, please rec this post or somehow let others know! God bless all of you.

 

-Jacob

 

 

“Star-Crossed Love”

 

My love, my love, wherefore art thou, my love?

Deny thy father and refuse thy sin

that thy king who with thee hath fallen in

love may grant thee Himself, thy treasure-trove.

Savior I, sinner thou; what’s in a name?

For I by any other prove as sweet,

since in my flesh our varied natures meet

as lovers two, in love, be one-in-same.

Ah, but death; parting is such sweet sorrow!

Thus did I suffer its happy dagger,

bore uphill its weight ‘neath bleed and stagger,

pierced—ah!—my heart, poured out, love to follow

‘fore tomb black. But soft, what light be breaking?

Mine ever-love for thee, new and waking.