Fulfilling a Promise - Thanks St. Expeditus

I have a special place in my heart for Saint - but - not - officially - endorsed - Saints.  I don't know why really; perhaps I think they are more relatable on some level.

My patron, Saint Veronica, isn't on the calendar because her story is based in legend and tradition.
I'm also fond of Saint Christopher with all the back and forth I do between work, my family, and seeing Joshua.  Only recently was Saint Christopher removed from the calendar for the same reasons Saint Veronica was - his story is also based on legend and tradition.

I also have a special place in my heart for the not - so - well - known - or loved Saints. It seems you always hear of Saint Anthony or Saint Christopher or Saint Therese.  I recently needed help because I knew I was completely at a loss on my own.   Suffice it to say, I've gone two months with out a paycheck, and I was under the impression I would be getting paid February 1st.  And then I was told I wouldn't be getting my first paycheck until March 1st.  I had used my savings to live off of for January, so I did not know what to do or how to come up with money for rent, groceries, and gas for February. And then I did the only thing I could think to do. I hit up the Saints.

Of course I went straight to St. Jude because I was desperate and my situation just seemed hopeless.  Heathcliff is on the same pay schedule as I am, and just yesterday, I had called my mother about my car problems, and she told me they really didn't have any money to spare at that point.  All in all, it seemed silly to me to ask St. Jude for help with money because when I think of St. Jude, I think of incurable cancer prayers or prayers to save a life that seems like it can't be saved.  And prayers like that need more space in heaven than prayers for money.  Regardless, I tossed it out there.

Still, I didn't feel good about the situation. So what's a millennial generation gal to do? Google.  And here I found St. Expeditus.

Saint Expeditus is not an official Saint, and the poor guy has a bit of a sordid history.  A primer: Supposedly a martyr in Rome, his name actually seems to be Elpidius, but the person copying down names of remains got it wrong along with several other martyrs who accompanied Elipidius.  Originally, he was invoked against procrastination, which is why you see him standing on top of a crow.  In Italian, a crow is often associate with "tomorrow" because the "caw-caw" onomatopoeia is a lot like "cras cras" which is Latin for "tomorrow."  Thus, he's normally depicted as standing on top of a crow with a banner that reads "Cras," and the banner Expeditus holds or is around him reads "Hodie" or Latin for "Today." 

Legend has it that some nuns received a package marked "expedite."  When the nuns opened the package, they found the remains of a martyr, and they mistakenly took his name to be "Expedite" which they then Latinized to Expeditus. From this, many people began to have fun with the name and invoke Elipdius for quick and speedy answers and prompt deliveries of packages.  However, if you do a bit of research, it seems that this story has holes poked in it pretty easily, but I still like it. 

From there, it seems his patronage grew, but unfortunately, he became popular among voodoo and hoodoo-ists, and they adopted him for their own reasons, causing some Catholics to shy away from him. 

After reading about him, though, I really liked him.  I'm the worst about procrastinating.  In fact, I've got a few things I could be doing now, but I'm not because I decided I could do them later (because that's how we phlegmatics roll).  He also seems to have a cult following among computer programmers, who essentially, but not always, are nerds.  I am, unfortunately, a nerd.  (Many people aren't probably aware of how nerdy I am.  Just ask Heathcliff.  He has to hear all the time about the science of theoretical time travel and why hot water makes ice quicker). So, I said a prayer to him as well.

Within three days, all my money problems disappeared.  All the bills are paid, I still have my apartment, the kitties are fed, and I have plenty of gas and groceries.  I have no extra money to do extra things, like go out to eat or buy birthday presents, but I have just enough to survive on, and that's all I could ask for, and I'm incredibly grateful to both Jesus and to Expeditus for helping my prayer be heard quickly.  

Supposedly, if you invoke St. Expeditus, he asks that you advertise your patronage of him somewhere very public.  (Probably because of all the bad press he gets for being involuntarily associated with voodoo).  So please, if you like to procrastinate or if you need a quick solution to a problem or if you'd like your package delivered promptly, ask St. Expeditus for his help. 

Linkage! 

Saint Expidite.org

Catholic.org Entry

SQPN Entry

General Overview Page with Prayers

Less than 3,

V. 

P.S. I found the random saint generator via much linkage which eventually led me to Conversion Diary.

I got Saint Paul the Hermit.  Seriously? He seems more like a Saint for Heathcliff... Then again, he is patron saint of the clothing industry, and I did work in the clothing industry for a long time. My first instinct is to associate him with my desire to dress modest but remain cute and fashionable at the same time.  I don't know about this...

V. for Veils and Vegetarianism

I feel like there is too much to say today.  I have lots going on and lots floating around in my head.

1. It's been a really, really, really tough week.  I mean, it was one of those weeks where the phrase "when it rains, it pours" aptly describes it.  First it was my car, and then I couldn't make it to work.  And then I upset my Mom over the car, which I'm not even sure how I did that. Then it was "we're not paying you until March 1," and I've used my savings to live off of for the past month, so for February, I have no money.  Which means asking my parents to borrow money. Which means no Valentine's Day supper to fix for Heathcliff.  I was going to go all out and make him filet mignon and buy a fondue pot for dessert, but there will be none of that this Valentine's Day.  Along with no V-Day present for him: a four way medal.  And then I found out I don't get a tax refund this year.  Somehow, I OWE the government money! :((((

Sometimes, though, I think we get dealt crappy weeks to be reminded that we need God. It seems like every time I slack up in the spiritual life department, I get slapped with crappy days, and it always has a way of driving me back to Jesus, calling on Him and the Saints to help me because Lord knows, I can't help myself. 

2. As per my last post, I realized I'm not really fasting anymore since I've pretty much transitioned to vegetarianism. However, I was reading about Saint Francis.  Saint Francis didn't eat meat because he wanted to respect all of God's creation. So, many vegetarian websites like to claim him as a "famous" vegetarian. What they don't realize is that he didn't actually subscribe to vegetarianism as a philosophy or as a form of protest like these people do.  The meat industry wasn't around when Saint Francis wasn't eating spare ribs.  Rather, it seems he took it as a permanent devotion to abstain from meat. 

My solution to the vegetarian fasting problem was to simply give up fish and soy protein since that seemed to be the most logical things for a vegetarian to give up. I tried to go without fish or soy today, and it was hard.  That basically eliminated most of what was in my fridge. I wasn't really tired, but I was hungry.  I gave in at supper and ate some sardines on a slice of cheese pizza. 

I'm well aware that we don't "have to" give something up for the Fridays year round, but I'd rather do it. Penance is good for the soul.  So, I feel like I have a couple of different options, one of which is to become an omnivore again.  But I do like the idea of vegetarianism as a devotion a la Saint Francis.  

I don't know.  More research, prayer, and contemplation is required before I take that option. 

Speaking of which, I'm going to visit my parents tomorrow, and they plan on buying BBQ for dinner. LOL.  I love my parents.  

3. I had a really profound moment tonight.  While reading up about veils as I so often do in an attempt to hype myself up to wear one, I came across this article: Veils

Most of those arguments I had come across before, but I had not heard the argument about the angels.  However, if you take a second to follow this man's logic, it is quite convincing.  But I cannot tell you the profound moment of "a-ha!" I had regarding this statement: Hence the idea seems to be that since the angels veil their faces (heads) it is fitting for women to do the same. But then the question, why not a man too? And here also Paul supplies an aswer that is “difficult” for modern ears: A man, on the other hand, should not cover his head, because he is the image and glory of God, but woman is the glory of man. For man did not come from woman, but woman from man. In other words a man shares God’s glory immediately whereas a woman does as well but derivatively for she was formed from Adam’s wounded side.

You would think it would be so obvious.  Of course woman was made from man! But when you understand yourself in terms of "made in the image of God," this changes things.  It truly shows that if you are a woman, by default, you are different from your male counterparts.  You're lower down on the totem pole, but no less valuable. One way you can glorify God is to glorify the image of him: man. 

I can honestly say I've always had a bit of a rebellious streak when it came to submission to a man, and I've had problems accepting this teaching. Course, you  must consider, I am a product of a two income house hold; my mom grew up during the 70's, and all my college mentors encouraged feminism.  In fact, I used to be a bit of a raging feminist in my early college years (probably as a reaction against a boyfriend who was abusive).  However, in my own meandering way, I did come to the conclusion that some submission to a man is necessary in a relationship.  In fact, I can remember telling Heathcliff something similar to this during one of our many conversations when we first met: "No man can control me unless I give him permission.  And I won't give him permission unless he is a stand-up kinda guy and treats me with respect. And even then he won't be controlling me.  It'll be more like I'm choosing to listen to him because he's a good guy, and a good guy is never going to do you wrong." He replied that he really liked that answer, and I told him that I had learned that lesson the hard way. 

So you can see why this teaching has been a particularly hard pill for me to swallow.  Perhaps this is one reason why I haven't donned the mantilla yet.  Maybe I'm just not spiritually ready. 

The other part of this man's argument also really strikes me: a woman's hair is her glory; thus, as not to detract attention from the Eucharist, she should cover it up.  

This concept is not new to me, as I grew up in the backwoods with several Pentecostal friends.  Those girls don't cut their hair, and if asked, you would get schooled on why.  In seventh grade, I probably knew more Pentecostal doctrine than Protestant because of this.  And they took care of their hair too.  As if it truly were their glory.

I love my hair, and I do think it to be one of my better features.  In fact, most of my life, my hair has been my most complimented feature. And I am quite adamant about taking care of it, though it tends not to want to cooperate.  But I have had super short hair before (not by choice - I got lice from a rented theatre costume and had to lose all of it to be cured and finish school), and I can honestly say I've never felt less feminine in my entire life.   In fact, a good bit of my life, my hair has looked like this: 

(BTW, excuse the pose; this was the least offensive picture I could find as most of them are from my early years of undergrad) But you can see how long my hair is. 

So the argument that "a woman's hair is her glory" completely makes sense now, considering how strongly I feel about my hair. And the idea of covering it up makes sense as well.  It all comes back around to modesty and humility.  I don't want to detract from the Eucharist or divert another lay person's attention from the Eucharist because I decided to pull my hair into a fancy side chignon.  Time to cover it up, lady.  

4. I'm thinking of a redesign of the site.  While writing this, I couldn't help but think of V. for Vendetta. 

Only mine would be:

V. for Veils

V. for Vegetarianism

V. for Veronica

Ahahaha. That's so corny and dramatic, but I'll probably do something similar because that's how I roll. 

And if you read all of this; God bless you.  You have to care a lot to get this far in my ramblings. 

Less than 3,

V. 

Post Friday Fast Thought

Some people may know this; some may not.  I am a closet vegetarian.  Or a 90% of the time vegetarian.
Technically, I'm a pescatarian (a vegetarian who eats fish), but let's not get bogged down in labels.

I've always had a problem eating meat.  When I was twelve, I tried to become a full vegetarian, but it just wasn't possible with my family's diet. Don't get me wrong - if someone has invited me over for dinner and they've fixed a meat dish, I'll eat it.  But I've always shied away from meat. If you asked me if I wanted a hamburger or fish, I would pick fish.  Chicken or fish, fish.  And even now, I feel kinda guilty eating fish. (But more on why I do later).

One reason I don't like eating meat is that it just makes me sad that there used to be a living, breathing, animal.  Granted, animals don't have souls, and if they're here for our sustenance, then people should have no problem eating them.  Still, I never liked the idea that I was consuming something that used to be alive, in the sense that it respired.

Over the past year, I've read books about what the meat industry does to their animals, and it makes me cry. And gag.  There is some really terrible stuff going on in our meat industry. So part of why I don't eat it is social protest, but it's not my only reason. (And no, I'm not in PETA).  :)

The other reasons: it is cheaper not to eat meat.  When I started living on my own, meat was one of the first things to get tossed off the grocery list because it was too expensive.

It's healthier. Getting rid of meat in my diet forced me to buy more vegetables and fruits to make up for what my diet would now be lacking.  Now, after eating a supper, I don't get the post supper -itis.  (You know, that feeling where you're so bloated you can't do anything but sit and then sleep).  But before, when I was eating meat, it made me feel gross and sluggish afterwards.

So to bring it back around, I do eat fish.  And I think it's because my father used to take me fishing as a child.  At six, I used to clean and gut the fish we caught.  Granted it did make me sad, but there is something about being around an animal while it's dying and making your peace with it (I think I might have actually told the fish "Sorry fish. But you sure are going to taste good").  I think this is why I can eat fish and be ok with it.

I know you're thinking - V.  where does Catholicism fit into all of this? Well, here's my quandary.  I do the Friday fast.

If the Friday fast means giving up meat for the day, and I give meat up on a daily basis and eat fish centered meals on the weekends (read: Fridays), should I be giving up fish or some other protein based food on Friday? Because getting to eat salmon or shrimp or catfish is a real treat for me compared to what I eat during the week (stir fry tofu, pb&j, meatless tacos, etc).  In fact, I look forward to eating my fish on Friday, but should I? Abstinence is supposed to be an act of penance, but I don't feel like eating my fish is.  And I know I could give something up and just offer up more prayers, but I know myself. I won't do it.  Cutting something out of my diet is something I can handle and will remember to do on a weekly basis.

So, I guess my question is this: is my Friday fast of fish still an act of penance even though I don't eat much, if any, meat during the week?  And if it isn't, what should I fast from on Fridays? My most heavily protein based foods?

Less than 3,

V.

Those Mormons...

Sure know how to dress!

Cute and modest, and dare I say - somewhat high fashion.

I MUST OWN THIS DRESS

There are lots of other cute dresses for sale on that site, but I am totally drooling over that one. It works for day and night. They also have it in black. What, what!?!?! A modest LBD??? Oh yes, with the Mormon online clothing stores, it's possible.

Anytime you google modest clothing, a plethora of online LDS shops come up, and they aren't afraid to put LDS Clothing Shop right up front in the google results.  And it's all super cute and (mostly) affordable, gosh darnit.

And this has always kind of baffled me - why, if we Catholics are supposed to have the same modesty guidelines as the LDS (which we do; I've checked), do we not have a plethora of shops that come up in google?  What is it that makes us so lackadaisical in our dress in and out of Mass?

I think the answer might lie in the fact that the Mormons consistently evangelize their young.  From what I can gather, the idea of modesty is not only reinforced by the parents, but there are online resources (like Jen, a modest young girl's answer to Cosmopolitan magazine), there are brochures handed out on a regular basis by LDS youth to their peers on LDS college campuses about modesty, and so much more.  They are constantly reminded by their community, whether it be elders or peers, that modesty is important, in dress or otherwise.

Which leads me to my next question - why aren't we doing the same thing? I really wish I had even an inkling of an answer for that, but I suppose, as a Faith, we're more worried about getting people in for confession or believing transubstantiation actually takes place during Mass (I think I read a recent pew study that an alarming ~40% of Catholics don't actually believe that what they receive at Mass is the body and blood of Christ). Source Here.  Granted modesty is not the be-all end-all answer for these growing concerns, but I would think it would help some. If people weren't dressed so sloppily or immodestly drawing other's attention to themselves, maybe people would focus on what's right in front of them at Mass: Christ!

I suppose this blog was stirred up by this article America's Next Top Model Contestant Lobbies for Modesty.  This lady has recently gone on to become a speaker for the program Pure Fashion, and I must say, I think their guidelines are quite reasonable compared to some of the other stuff I've seen floating around. Pure Fashion Guidelines.

Honestly, I still have problems with the no sleeveless thing during the summer, or I can't wear running shorts to go for a run, but I continually tell myself it's better for everyone if I slap on a little more clothing.  Besides, no one wants to be blinded by my pasty white legs anyway. :)

Happy Thursday and less than 3,

V.

I've been up exactly 24 hours now. Getting grades ready. Cause we have a one day deadline.

......... yeah ...........

It's hard just typing.

I lost some blank grade sheets, so I couldn't grade papers for a while back around 2 or 3 am or so. Saint Anthony and Jesus must love me. Or they must have realized how desperate I was. Cause I said the prayer and there they were.

Okay, this as a tactic to keep me awake is not working.

One more class. . .

It's Phlegmatic V. today.

Teaching, as a career, is so bi-polar. Or maybe I am.

One day you're so frustrated because you can't get a single student to understand one single, simple concept.

And in the next week, the students miraculously get it. The light bulb goes off. The Eureka! is screamed. The epiphany is had.

I have been preaching in my Comp. I classes all semester about certain concepts. And in 4 out of 5 essays, no one really got it. Until the last one. They all got it. They finally got it. Insert happy bootay dance. I'm not saying this to brag. But I feel like my students are a reflection of how well I teach; if they don't get it, I didn't teach it well enough. (Well, to some extent. I understand you can only give the information so many times until the responsibility of learning is transferred to the student).

And actually, as frustrating as these students were and as much "tough love" as I had to give them, I think I'll miss this group of students. I had one student say, "This has been a really fun class. I think I'll miss it."

Another girl gave me a Christmas card. (Turns out, she goes to church with me because I recognized the Saint on the card).

Another girl on her way out said, "See you for Comp. II!"

I still honestly don't know if this was supposed to be my vocation or not; I sort of haphazardly stumbled into it. But it's days like today that make me feel better about my choice.

So often though, I forget to say thanks in my prayers.

Lord, thank you for these kind and encouraging words from these students. Please give me the strength to continue teaching, and please give me encouragement if this is my vocation.

It's melancholic V. today.

I've been neglectful; I know. It's just I feel like I have nothing profound enough to post. But here's something that's troubling me.

Today, I took up short story papers. We read Flannery O'Connor's "A Good Man Is Hard to Find." If you haven't read her, she is one of the best Catholic writers of the 20th century, and I highly recommend any Catholic at least have a working knowledge of her body of literature.

In case you haven't read this story, a short synopsis goes like this: A selfish grandmother is going on vacation from Georgia to Florida with her son, his wife, and their two bratty children. However, the Grandmother wants to visit Tennessee and see an old Plantation home. It is also mentioned that the serial killer the Misfit is roaming the countryside.

Eventually, the grandmother tells a conscious lie in order to get her way. Going off the paved road causes the family to have a wreck. A carload of guys comes along, and the grandmother is faced to make a choice: accept the moment of Grace offered and reconcile herself to God or not. I won't ruin the story for you, but let's say it's bittersweet.

What's troubling to me is this: I have a student in my class. This student is catholic. This student attends Sunday mass every Sunday. But this student argued the grandmother could not have been redeemed in his or her paper. This student argued there was no salvation or redemption for anyone in the story. And basically argued that O'Connor's Catholicism, much less her Christianity, was irrelevant. All my protestant students, however, got it. They really liked the story.

I would say this student is typical of the 18 and 19 year olds who attend St. Joe's. It's worrisome because these are the children who are growing up to be future lapsed or Cafeteria Catholics. (I hate using those terms because Catholic is supposed to mean universal and one, but it's true. Even Protestants have the ability to pick out the differences. A protestant lady labeled me a 'cradle' Catholic because I don't eat meat on Friday. It's sad when protestants can and do see the division within us. But, I digress). If these kids can't even see the possibility of redemption for a selfishly- motivated character in a fictional story, how can they even imagine redemption for themselves? Even more troubling, what do they really believe? Are they just going through the motions? Doing what mom and dad said to do? Do they really know the love of Jesus or is it just a superficial relationship? It breaks my heart to consider the answer to these questions.

Moreover, I feel like a failure as a teacher. One of the ways I can best witness the faith is to teach O'Connor, to educate the ignorant boys and girls, (some are even from our own flock! I once had to explain to a Catholic girl why we fasted before the Eucharist), about the Catholic faith. I never push it on them - I simply explain O'Connor's, the Catholic's, world view (with falling into sin, the moment of Grace experienced when repenting, and restoration and salvation of one's soul after confession and Eucharist) and let them ask the questions. However, if I can't even change the opinion or reach one of our own, what good am I? This is supposed to be my vocation. . .

It's like O'Connor once said about her stories and her wish for people to have a conversion of heart; "To the deaf, you yell. To the blind, you draw large and startling pictures." And I've done that in explaining her stories, the Faith, and how it all relates. I feel like I scream and draw easy to understand pictures about her stories and how they relate to the Faith in order to spark interest in it or even just to renew a Love and Faith in Jesus.

But what do you do when you encounter the deaf and dumb?

Turn your eyes to heaven and pray with hope.

Have faith that these people will come around.

Love them even more.

At least that is what I have to tell myself, lest I fall into despair.

Less than 3,

V.