Day 268: The Next Thing

Waking up this morning, I approached the day with trepidation.  With all the storms going through the valley, my body ached all night.  My hip cramped throughout the dark hours before dawn.  The last thing I wanted to do was go to Mass.  But I was called to do just that.  I remembered our priest was out of town, and we would have a guest priest.  Another reason the desire to stay home persisted.  I didn't know at the time, I was doing the next thing.

Though on silent, Jerry saw he had an incoming call while he was reading along with the Bible readings for the day at Mass.  His best friend called.  He walked out of the sanctuary to call him back.  We knew the news was bad.  As Father finished the gospel reading, Jerry returned and nodded.  A Blackhorse Brother left for the Fiddler's Green.  I prayed for him and his family, both civilian and military.

I have been thinking about holiness the last couple of months.  I was asked to give a talk about the topic.  My first instinct was that I couldn't.  I am not holy.  Knee jerk reaction, right there.  We are all called to holiness.  For heavens sake, my blog is called A Journey to Holiness.  I don't talk much about holiness in the blog.  I did at the beginning when I started it in 2010.  But as I have grown older, my idea of holiness has changed.

Our guest priest made a statement that caught my attention.  "God calls us to do the next thing."  Holiness.  We get so wrapped up in thinking we need to do these huge acts of a grandiose displays of kindness or charity.  Nope, just the next thing: take out the garbage, wash the dishes, mow the lawn, take a nap.  Yes, we are called to rest.  That is what the seventh day was created for people.  I sat in the pew thinking I really should take a notebook to Mass. I so needed to remember what Father Tom said for my talk.  But God gave me an example of the next thing.

Once we got home, Jerry called his best friend again.  Really, this friend of his is a brother.  The two of them were in Iraq together.  They came home and stood by each other's side during the first couple of years of rough PTSD.  Life evened out, but together they still stand.  They stand with other soldiers from their unit and our state.  They listened to the call to do the next thing.

After changing, Jerry went to the VA Hospital to join the others.  For the last couple of weeks, Jerry has visited his gunner during his last days.  He, along with other Blackhorse Brothers, were called to do the next thing.  They stood vigil over their fallen comrade and escorted their brother, Shawn Wigert.  Rest in Peace!

Fidler's Green

Halfway down the trail to Hell in a shady meadow green,

are the Souls of all dead troopers camped near a good old-fashion canteen,
and this eternal resting place is known as Fiddlers' Green.
 
Marching past, straight through to Hell, the Infantry are seen,
accompanied by the Engineers, Artillery and Marine,
for none but the shades of Cavalrymen dismount at Fiddlers' Green.
 
Though some go curving down the trail to seek a warmer scene,
no trooper ever gets to Hell ere he's emptied his canteen
and so rides back to drink again with friends at Fiddlers' Green.
 
And so when man and horse go down beneath a saber keen,
or in a roaring charge fierce melee you stop a bullet clean,
and the hostiles come to get your scalp,
just empty your canteen and put your pistol to your head
and go to Fiddlers' Green.