The Seasons: A Poem

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Sunrise over Amazing Grasses Family Farm The mad Artist wields His brush, Painted colors rush, To life and give flush, Before the quiet autumn hush. The life seems to pour, As colors fall to the floor, To be seen no more, Outside the dark, grey door. Brightness from below, Sun upon the snow, High, cold clouds blow, Flakes and ice appear to grow. The man melts with little seen, Underneath, pale, grey green, Hides life in dark unseen, Waits for warmth and to careen. Buds on branches show, Patience starts to grow, Trickles, streams and veins flow, Bringing fruits of melted snow. Sprung to life it springs, Bees, birds, sound rings, Lush green flings, Its gift bounty brings. Green growth gives one last rush, Underneath the Painter's brush. The mad Artist wields His brush, before the quiet autumn hush. More poetry is available from James M. Hahn in  The Last Dragon and Other Poems  available now. My new book of cryptogram puzzles " Secret Messages from the Saints " is avai
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A difference choice

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In the words of Our Lord, "It is finished." That is, the election is finished and I must say, not a moment too soon. The stress of it all was starting to get to me a little. Congratulations to President-Elect Obama. I will surely keep him in my prayers daily! It is a great day for African-Americans but a horrible day for the unborn.

Today's Gospel reminds us that no matter who our president is, we have a bigger choice to make in this life. We must make a choice to either follow Christ or follow the world. Jesus not only invites us to follow Him, He also lets us know the price we must pay to be His disciple. "Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me, cannot be my disciple." Could Our Lord's words be any more clear? To be a disciple means to carry our cross. There is no way around it.

So, what does it mean to "bear his own cross"? What does our cross consist of? Our cross consists of suffering each and every day. We do not look for or seek out suffering but accept it willingly from God as a means for our sanctification. We carry our cross when we, in imitation of Christ, accept a suffering given to us from God. We carry our cross when we do not cry out WHY but rather when we cry our YHW (WHY backwards) - Your Holy Will!

Yesterday we chose a president who will change the course of the American story and we will have the chance to do so every four years until the end of the age. However, these things will all pass away but the choices we make each and every day, each and every moment will decide the course of our eternity.

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