The Eighth Story Mountain of Blood and Tears  Memoirs Volume 1   by Lorie Cramer

Memoirs, Volume 1   ~   Lorie Cramer   ~

Book Sample


From The Eighth Story Mountain of Blood and Tears

     a Memoir, Volume 1

          by Lorie Cramer


Our Gorgeous Trash in 1999 at Our Teeny, Tiny, Red Brick Storybook House in Kentucky Near the Abbey of Gethsemani Monastery


       We moved here to our tiny red brick home in Kentucky at the end of November in 1999. And at this particular time in December, we had already piled our deck high with much trash and many, many boxes that were stacked all over.

       And on this early morning that I am speaking of right now, naturally I had more trash and boxes to put out there. But when I opened the door to the deck, I was utterly astounded and in awe, as I looked out over all the trash, which was piled very high. I was astounded because the trash surely had the appearance, of being like a brilliant city of diamonds. A city of diamonds, instead of all the plain junk and trash that it really was which we had thrown out on the deck the day before.

       But anyway, the sun had just risen, and overnight we had a very, very, heavy and gorgeous thick layering of elegant frost. This elegant frost was everywhere, and as I approached our exquisite looking trash, the sun was dancing around and striking the glittering frost as I walked towards it. So the brilliance of the streaking lights were reflecting here, there, and everywhere around me. Everything most assuredly seemed like it had been sprinkled with star dust, and a heavy layering of the finest diamonds.

       Well, I literally almost went bananas with me having stepped out, and into all of this glittering brilliance that absolutely almost seemed like I might have opened the door to Heaven. It surely had an elegant heavenly appearance. I literally could see, and feel God in absolutely everything. So, the enlightenment and infused knowledge, and with the experiential feelings, of seeing God in everything, just seemed like more than any one person could bear. Also, there seemed to be the most experiential touchings and loving signs of God and His love everywhere. Here, there and everywhere, over and on all the earth.

       All this came from far and wide. From here to there, up to the high heavens or so it seemed, as I am engulfed in the love and the beauty of God. I was completely enclosed with this. Thanks be to God, for a taste of Heaven, while here on earth. Thanks be to God, too, for being satiated in His Love at least for a few glorious moments on this earth.

       And as I looked out at the embellished trees, they, too, were dressed eloquently, the intricate designs of the beautiful up-stretched limbs (praising God, no doubt?) All the limbs were frosted thickly, and were in gorgeous attire, and seemingly draped with the finest jewels. Draped in the abundance of the sparkling diamonds, that also adorned the gorgeous limbs. Thanks be to God for sure, for allowing me to see and feel this as I did.

       I then could see that the sky was a pale bluish white, and luminous with almost a frosty appearance, or more with a frothy appearance. Beautiful frosty horizons all around, too. I decided to go down to our ugly rural mail box, to check it out, but then I could see that this ugly box, was bedecked with jewels and looked like it might be fit for a king. Our tall oriental grass was heavily frosted, too, and was flowing to and fro while throwing out sparks of sweeping brilliance as it flowed back and forth in the gentle breeze.

       And as I started back up to our house, I noticed that our yard seemed to be a blanket of glitter. The grass seemed to be standing proud and tall, as every single blade of grass seemed to be supported with stacks of flowing and shining diamonds. The grass was throwing out brilliant streaks of light, too, as the sun seemed to dance along the ground as I walked on it. As I was doing so, the sun was striking the glittery frost, which was sending out streaks of the brightest rays, as I went back up to the house.

       Well, needless to say that by this time, and after witnessing all of this, which seemed like Heaven, I was about fit to be tied, because I was so ecstatic with joy... By this time, I was back on the deck, examining closely all the trash, the beauty of it. I would bend down and pick up big pieces of frost, to examine it closer, and I would seem very surprised and disappointed, that it would melt so quickly. Such beauty, and in an instant it would be gone. Each time I seemingly was amazed that something so pretty, with such elegant designs could or would, just up and melt like that, and be gone. All of this left me in mysterious wonderment and in awe of it all.

       Well, after a few more happenings of this sort of thing of me acting very childish (I thought,) I suddenly thought to myself too, that if any of my new neighbors were seeing me, that they probably were thinking that I not only was a city slicker that had just moved in, but also that I probably was a ‘bloomin’ idiot, too, who just moved here. And, after all, who would act the way that I had been doing, unless, they were a bit bananas, I thought. (Or perhaps a child?)

       I had already been doing a lot of things like the above for the last several years, (since 1992?) and in the beginning of these happenings, I started wondering if perhaps I was getting senile, because I would be getting so childlike at times. (But I would always see God in all of this.) Well, at this time now, after the trash experience, I decided that maybe I had better check this out for sure, with my spiritual director. Check to see if he thought that perhaps I was starting to go bonkers with senility.

       Well, so I did discuss this at length with my spiritual director, and he assured me that I wasn't going bananas. But anyway I did already know that I seemed to enjoy creation much like St. Francis did. And, I had already been thinking that at times that I surely am, and, or that I do act like God’s fool. But, even so, I still was glad that my spiritual director did affirm me as being sane anyway. (I really needed this assurance it seemed.) Plus two psychologists had affirmed that I was not hallucinating also.

       But anyway, when I told my spiritual director through email about my gorgeous trash, he wrote right back to me and said, "Your whhaaaaaaat?" He seemed to think it was amazing that I saw all my trash and junk as being gorgeous. (He did believe me, and was very happy about it, but he was just surprised.)

       Well, anyway, only an artisan such as our God could possibly put such exquisite beauty here on earth such as, He has, and the same HE has done in Heaven. And, it gets better there in Heaven, with us really being at home then, with God, in Heaven. Thanks be to God.

       God gave us supreme authority over all this on earth. He decorated it with splendid ethereal beauty and divine love, for us to enjoy and to see ... and feel ... So. If we will open our hearts for Him, and if we are willing to have eyes that can see him, and open our ears to hear him; Then, in the whisperings of the sacred silence of the heavenly breezes, we will see, and know and feel, the pull of the ethereal heavenly city. The city that is always seeking and drawing us in. This will be done by the most powerful drawings of the Holy Spirit. Thanks be to God for sure and with certainty, I know that this can happen, and everyone should know that this will happen, if we actively seek him interiorly and if we thirst for and love him ... we will be drawn into His embrace.

       But in my opinion, simply doing external things without our heart and soul truly involved in our pursuit, this then, will not get the job done, or so it seems to me. Amen.


From the Tiny Red Brick Storybook House, a House Just Big Enough for Love

       I had been referring to our house as the “Storybook House,” and some of the monks had said that it was a house just big enough for love.  Fr. Bob Keller, O.P., our pastor at St. Paul Catholic Center on the campus of Indiana University, said that a house big enough for love is the right size house for sure. However, I should stick the word “suffering” in there somewhere too, because that is the way that it really is and the way that it really has been. Fr. Bob also said that he believed that a house big enough for love would be a house that requires sacrifice and suffering. How right you are Fr. Bob!



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