I love this particular passage from Psalms. The first time I had seen it in print was on a wall in a local Asian Food Buffet. I know I had heard it before but, at that time, was not sure from where. Now whenever I go there, I know where it came from, originally, and it makes me smile that anyone who reads it, is reading the words of King David from The Book of Psalms in the Old Testament.

It also makes me want to be that “He”.

I can say I was well planted. My parents were sure of that. We lived in a great community and were ushered to church every Sunday and Holy Day of obligation. I became an Altar boy at a young age and hung in there till I was nearly 18 years old. We lived in a big house with a front porch big enough for our friends to hang out. We were taught how to cook and clean, we had dinners at the huge dining room table where we were taught nobody eats until Mom sat down and we said Grace. My Grampa lived with us, extending the family tree, also a lesson in love and respecting our elders.

Here’s the thing, though…that tree so well planted did not understand the workings and need of being a good Christian. I dropped out of Mass and religion entirely for near 27 years. I found cigarettes, alcohol and other worse items. I destroyed a marriage with the end results of destroying a perfectly good family. I hurt a lot of people, most important of them all was my children and my wife. Two of my kids spent very little, if any, time with me. They felt that I left them and I knew how badly I had hurt them but I didn’t have a clue how to fix it or how to even apply a band-aid. My parents asked me to not come by any longer after my divorce which leads to further aggravation and loneliness and this leads to consorting with anyone who will keep company with you. The phrase “misery loves company” became a phrase for a reason…because it’s true. When your life becomes only about you, which mine had, then you feel the “you alone circle” which restricts every good feeling from being able to get near you or to touch you.
 I joined a motorcycle club and was working my way up the chain of command. I worked an average of 104 hours each week. Yes…I know that sounds un-doable, but it was…doable…until I destroyed my back and could no longer “do” anything I knew how to do to afford to eat, live, have a home, etc. We would sit at the clubhouse and there was always a story of another divorce and it was never really our fault and none of us could believe that someone like us, “great catches”, could be sitting around a bar with nothing better to do but complain and keep doing what undid our lives.
I left that motorcycle club and was lead to a preacher shortly thereafter who found a way to console me and about 70 others, through the words of the Bible. Every Wednesday night and Sunday morning this young man of about 30 years old would fire up his sermon, literally removing clothing that was too restrictive for him to continue…suitcoat first, then the tie, then the upper buttons near his neck. It was much like binge watching NetFlix where you didn’t want any of it to come to an end. I actually felt drained but empowered at the same time. Every time the service was over I could not believe that three hours had passed when it felt like 20 minutes.
I was living with my eldest brother and then a friend for over 3 years because I could not afford to have a place of my own. My financial situation bloomed a bit and I was able to move into a double with my closest cousin. All new furniture and appliances but that was not the best part. I was able to have a stable home for my children once again. My two younger kids would be there every other weekend and some days during the week. We painted their rooms walls with murals and they were permanently theirs. It housed a huge kitchen where we could make dinners, preparing them together and an actual sit in dining room where we would eat together. Anyone with children will know this feeling of joy and of accomplishment.
My eldest daughter graduated high school and went off to college and it was during this time that I felt healing happening, finally, in my life. We visited. We laughed. I watched her bloom into this intelligent, thoughtful and loving person who, gracefully, allowed me back into her life.
I heard footsteps coming up the stairs to my flat and went to the top as I wasn’t expecting anyone at that time. I hadn’t seen my folks in nearly 8 years. My Ma was crying before she got to me and my Dad was following her, making sure she didn’t fall back down the stairs. It chokes me up just thinking about it. Ma apologized for being gone so long but I knew it wasn’t her doing and she need never apologize for doing what was right. You don’t get in a car with someone who you know is driving into a brick wall, repeatedly.
From that day on they would come by for coffee and tea sometimes three days a week. If you’ve ever been separated from a loved one and then are gifted their return then you know how great a treasure this was. Shortly after we started talking again I had a two week stay in a hospital. The first 7 days or so I don’t even remember. I was in the CCU and then the ICU and then in a regular room for the remainder. Each time I woke up, there they were…sitting, watching me and Mom praying the ever present Rosary. My Ma would start crying and come to hug me, making it all better with her tears. My Dad looked tired but he wasn’t anywhere she was not. That kind of loyalty and love…that is a tree whose leaves do not whither. My kids and my best friend were there so much, too, that it told me, in their presence, I am Blessed. My friend Marky was there so much that my Mom thought he was my nurse. That is a true friend. I was able to go home on July 4th that year. Ma wanted me to come live with them for a while but I really wanted to be home, so they would visit every day for the next month.
My Dad passed away a few years later and I know how Blessed I was to have that contact with him. My Mom needed someone now, to stay with her. We didn’t know she had dementia until Dad passed away and it brought a steep drop in her abilities. They had been going to church every single day. My brothers and I figured we had best keep her on what we knew about their daily schedule so as not to further her decline. Get up, go to Mass, mall walk, breakfast. The going to Mass part was a hurdle for me. I had moved on from the preacher as I was watching far too many people “speaking in tongues”. I’m not saying they weren’t. It just made me feel cheap in being there and I wasn’t into believing in that kind of thing. Well, I was going to take Ma to Mass and then I would drink coffee and smoke cigarettes in the parking lot and wait for her to come back out. I’ve mentioned this before so bear with me if you’ve seen it. As I pulled up to the church, I could count too many exits and I could not see all of them from any one point in the parking lot. This meant two things: I wasn’t going to get my morning smoke and I was going to have to step back into a church. You really do wonder if you’ll be hit by lightning, by the way. Talk about tension!! I was also still grieving the loss of my Dad, had a few insolvent feelings within the family and was tired. I had a lot of pain going on in my mind to say the least. We walked into the church and Ma lead me to the pew that they apparently had owned for their duration of time coming to Mass at that church. Now if you know anyone that goes to church you will also know that they try to sit in the exact same pew every Mass…and if someone has taken this for granted and sits in “their” pew…and that said person has dementia and wants “her” pew…
Well I would not want to be the person that got shot with that 84 year old womans glare!
So that very first Mass, that first coming into the house of God in 27 years, I hear a reading from the Gospel that healed my heart. How does a near two thousand year old book have a reading scheduled on the very day I reluctantly end up in a pew? I have a very slim belief in coincidence. I don’t have a whole lot of anything called luck. I did learn that day that I had a whole lot of stored up stuff that did not matter any longer…and a whole lot more of something I had just tapped in to:

Blessings.

I can’t count them all. Neither could you or even Einstein. There are no charts or narrative that can ever explain them. No college degree, not even at the Theology Doctoral level.
After a few weeks I was introduced, suddenly, to the woman that runs the Religious education for the parish. I was introduced to her by another friend who helped my sons business grow…and I had no idea she was a church going woman until that Mass where she was also attending. She walked us over to the school and said,”Hi Marie. This is Bill and we heard you were looking for another after school teacher for the 9th grade kids. He would love to.” I had no idea how to teach children about God and I had no idea how I was going to do any of this. I heard the readings for 17+ years but I didn’t think they ever, truly set in. I found out that what little I knew would grow exponentially because I had a foundation that those children built on that for me. The year 2020 would have been my 14th year teaching students from the 7th, 8th and/or 9th grades. I was also Blessed with meeting other teachers, Pastors, Priests, Deacons,  parents and more.

I was able to care for my Ma for several years and after I was no longer able to, another Blessing, my brother and his family were able to and they took on the task until her death. She passed away on my 50th birthday. Now follow me here, it was not a bad thing…we now share the same exact birthday. Mine to the earth and her to Heaven. That is a Blessing! Something that nothing can ever take away from. No wind, rain, erosion, hurt feelings and nothing that I could ever do can change that beautiful fact. Another sign from God had to happen, though. She had not opened her eyes for about a week and was unresponsive even when we pulled an eyelid open to see her, or to show her we were there. The doctors had said she would be gone in a matter of days…three weeks earlier. The doctor came in this morning and said she would probably last a few more days. My brother and I had been there for about 3 straight days by then. We decided to take shifts so we could go home and shower, one staying while the other left. I stayed the first shift. When I went back to her room after walking my brother out, there was a Hospice Chaplain named Dottie sitting there, holding her hand. She was a Chaplain of the Christian faith. We talked for a bit and I told stories of my Moms antics and what it was like growing up with 6 siblings. She then asked me if we could pray together before she had to leave. I surely accepted quickly. We held hands and each had one of Moms hands as we started, “Our Father who art in Heaven” and Mom opened her eyes and looked directly into mine. She squeezed my hand during the prayer and as we finished the Lords prayer, she closed her eyes and passed. A prayer probably learned in her earliest childhood…woke her up for me to see her eyes, to know she knew me once again before she went to Jesus. If you know anyone who has dementia then you know how perfect that moment was for me. She knew me once again.

Since that time, I have been able to afford a self-sustaining house with my brother and sister in laws help. A house where I was able to live with my eldest daughter and her family, seeing my oldest granddaughter every day and my 2nd granddaughter being born while there. We lived together for several years until they could afford a house of their own. We continued whole-family dinners even after they moved up until the Covid-tide came to be. I am now expecting my 5th grandchild and my 3rd grandson by my youngest daughter. My eldest brother knows everything about house stuff and has also helped me immensely at the worst times…water heaters breaking, plumbing or electrical concerns, drywall, etc.

What I understand now is that this tree, planted near streams of water, has not pulled his roots from that fertile ground. The sunshine that warms my boughs, the water that feeds my roots and brings all the nutrients up to the farthest branch and leaf is God given.
Prosperity has nothing to do with money or buildings or anything bought and owned.
Prosperity is my children and grandchildren, parents and siblings, those friends that never are too far away.


I wish you peace…and right-willed, God gifted prosperity.
~b
Shine Today™