UPDATE ON “NOT IN INK”:
Dear readers, I need to take a break for a while. The pope’s election on Wednesday threw a monkey wrench into my planned posts for this week; and I seriously need to focus on some projects at work right now.
So, I am going to be taking a “spring break” from this blog for about the next 10 days. I still encourage you all to check the blog, because I am going to be posting some pre-written materials (like “Ecce Homo”) and some posts from guest authors! But, because of my need to focus on work and my travel schedule, I won’t be able to write a new musing each day (which is mostly what I have been doing).
So, this is my rough plan for the next 10 days or so:
- Today, March 15 — “Ecce Homo” Part 4
- Musing/Meditation on Sunday’s Gospel
- Monday, March 18 — “Ecce Homo” Part 5
- ~Friday, March 22 — A guest-author post on “Masculinity”
- ~Saturday, March 23 — A complementary post on “Femininity”
- Sunday, March 24 — Maybe a meditation on the Gospel (???)
- Monday, March 25 — “Ecce Homo” Part 6
- March 26 thru March 31 — HOLY WEEK MEDITATIONS/MUSINGS!! 😀
With all that being said, Thanks for reading the blog!!! 🙂
I have really enjoyed writing these musings, meditations, and misc. stuff for you all — and for My Most Important Reader (a.k.a. God).
Two things I’m asking you lovely readers to do:
- Please pray for my mother, because she is trying to find a new job.
- PLEASE share this blog with your friends and family… and anyone and everyone! It would be really awesome to come back from my “spring break” and see that I have like 300 new followers (Not going to happen, but a writer can dream…) So, again, please share.
I shall keep you all in my prayers, and I ask that you please keep me and my family in yours. Thanks and Blessed Lent!
Short Story: “Ecce Homo” (Part 4)
Author’s Note: This short story was written in 2010 or 2011, and is dedicated to my friend F.S.B. The story is titled “Ecce Homo: A Calling.” This is the fourth of six parts, which will be posted each Monday of Lent. The previously posted parts of the story are on this Word Document.
(From Part 3) “You know, son,” the man said, making eye-contact, “You really believe a lot for someone who doesn’t have much faith.”
That remark struck the boy down in his core. Yet, he still wouldn’t show it. He merely shrugged his shoulders and looked out at the street.
“Have you ever considered becoming a priest,” the man asked him.
END OF PART 3; PART 4 BEGINS HERE
“Tsk, why would I want to become a priest?” the boy said. He was clearly offended by the question. It was almost worse than a punch in the face.
“That’s not what I asked,” the man responded in a voice that was calm, but firm. “I asked you did you ever consider becoming a priest, not if you wanted to.”
There was a long pause, until the boy finally said, “Not really. Maybe when I was younger, ‘cause I went to Catholic school, and they kinda drilled that into us, you know. ‘Become a nun! Become a priest!’ Not now, though. I just don’t want to. Plus, they probably wouldn’t take me. I mean, who’d want me to be a priest?”
“God,” the man said with a smile.
“I already told you, man: I don’t believe in God.”
“‘It doesn’t matter. He believes in you.’”
In the back of the boy’s mind he thought that sounded familiar—like it was from a movie or TV show he had seen once. But, he didn’t respond. He was still churning the man’s previous words over in his head, like an endless drying machine – his thoughts continued to cycle around and around.
“Perhaps it might benefit you to know this: ‘God does not call the qualified. He qualifies the called.’”
“Jeez, what are you?” he asked, trying to deflect, “A priest or something?”
“Of a sort,” the man replied with a genuine grin. “I know a lot of them. It’s tough work, believe me, but it is – in and of itself – a very rewarding vocation. And I believe you look like someone who’s up to the challenge.”
The boy stood up. He freed himself from the constraints and the protection of the umbrella and its keeper. He stood in the rain and shouted at the man on the bench.
“Man, who do you think you are? You don’t know anything about me!”
He had been seen through, exposed. He was rebellious and independent by his nature, and now he had to defend himself against the pressure he was under. The whole time he was shouting at the man, the boy never looked at him directly – only in his general direction. He couldn’t bear to make eye-contact, for fear that he would become transparent to the man’s gaze.
“Son, look at me.”