Writings by Carmela P.

Formerly "Mel's Musings" but do to many authors with name of Mel - changing to "Writings by Carmela P."

Wednesday, July 06, 2011


Words cease when the spirit requires peace
Oral prayer makes room for quiet meditation
The soul longs for contraints of life's release
And for the Holy Spirit's illumination.

Our souls long to be free to soar through the sky
To fly unabashedly upon our charted course
With spirits in flight ever upward our souls fly
We yearn 'til we reach The Ultimate Source.

Our Father, Creator of all that was, is and will be
Has instilled within our souls the desire
To be united with Him throughout all Eternity
With, by and through His Holy Spirit's Fire.

His Gifts are limitless but by far the Best
Was His Son to lead us on our quest,
Lifting our souls to the wing'ed height
Far beyond our mortal sight
To Heaven's Eternal daylight.

Copyrighted Mel Patterson, 7-6-11

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Thursday, May 26, 2011


Just yesterday I tore up a spider's web again,
Sweeping it away with a fling of my right hand
Yet I ponder that spider's handiwork,
See its' diligence and I think... "How grand!

The silky web feels sticky to the touch
In an instant with broom it is swept away
One reason for the spider's intricate network
Is to ensnare and feed upon unsuspecting prey.

We can liken the cleansing of our souls
To the removing of cobwebs from our portals
Always cleansing, scrubbing and purifying
The lifelong endeavor of Christian mortals.

If the cobwebs in our lives hold us bound
We push and pull to no measureable avail
We're stuck in that web unable to let go,
Bemoaning our fate in that cagey travail.

Cleaning the threads before they form webs
Keeping after them day to day, hour to hour
We wash them all away in the Blood of Jesus
Watching satan back off, slither and cower.

What we learn from the spider and her web
Is her instinct to persevere in weaving it
Our souls are worth the same diligent care
In faith, hope and love we are believing it.

© Mel Patterson, 5-26-11

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Saturday, November 29, 2008


Father of mercies, we lift up our children to you. We lift up the unborn, the infants, babies, tots, children, pre-teens, teens and adult children and beg blessings of protection all about and around them. We plead the Blood of the Lamb all over each child. We know the evil one flees at the thought of your Precious Blood touching him so we rebuke him with You, Lord God, that he may flee to the dregs of hell to which he belongs.

We rebuke the addictions of drugs, alcohol, smoking of any substance, sex,
stealing and all other addictions besetting our children. Strengthen
the vulnerable, the susceptible and fill them with wisdom and discernment, gifts of Your
Holy Spirit.

Provide in their lives loving parents, caring foster homes, compassionate guardians, good teachers, and dedicated professionals who will help guide them along the right path.

Bring into their lives good and holy Pastors, Ministers, Deacons, Priests, Chaplains to guide them into Christianity. Fill their minds with knowledge of why we are really here. Fill their hearts with the openness to love as You love, and bless their spirits to mirror Your Spirit.

Thank you Father for how you are working in their lives.
Praise you Father for all blessings thus far and for all blessings
yet to come. For it is by you, through you and to you we
come in prayerful petition for our children.


© Mel Patterson, Nov. ‘08


Thursday, May 22, 2008


The kneeler on the altar has deep knee indentations from years upon years of use. It is the kneeler that Lectors use after reading from Scripture during the celebration of daily Holy Masses.

As I sat and glanced at those indentations, the idea of this writing came to me this morning, April 28, 2008, in Church after I had read from Acts of the Apostles.

"Mother's Knees" impressed itself upon my mind in such a way that it is the impetus for this writing.

A mother's knees often times kneel in prayer, kneel in scrubbing a floor, kneel to play with a child, kneel to mop up spills, kneel to garden, kneel to paint, kneel to find a coin under a chair, etc. There are many times a mother uses her knees in addition to kneeling.

During pregnancy, a baby is being miraculously formed within a mother's womb. At the appointed time mother goes into labor and her knees are bent to deliver her little miracle of life. The little cherub is wrapped and given to his or her mother. Mother is joy-filled forgetting her own pain as she sees her baby for the first time.

When baby is again brought to mother, she adjusts herself to a better position and she must do this using her knees. Mother's knees are a gift with which to be grateful. Knees are needed. Do we think of our knees and their usefulness before they become burdensome?

I must say, I had not given much thought all of these 67 years to knees, as I have today, simply by looking at that kneeler in Church this morning.

I wonder how many times our very own mothers knelt to either pray or to tend to a chore. Watching your own mother pray is a beautiful witness to her faith in God. A praying, kneeling mother teaches by her example. She exhibits grace and humility and the lessons she teaches can make an impression upon all who see her.

In examining the various uses of knees, particularly a mother's knees, since this is a Mother's Day Devotion, we think of the mother who kneels on the floor to play with her baby, the mother who kneels by her child's side if the child has fallen and hurt himself. We picture the mother scooping the child up and tending to his needs. We see a mother leaning over and tending to her sick child. Without knees she would be unable to lower herself to the child's bedside.

We see a mother bouncing her baby and/or her child upon her knees. We see a mother sit in her rocking chair comforting her baby, singing softly, and rocking him to sleep. The downy warm head of the baby may bobble and mother supports him placing her hand to the back of his neck and upper back.

We see a mother about her chores, kneeling to scrub the floor with a soapy brush, wiping and rinsing and drying and waxing it to a spiffy sparkle. You could eat off that floor, well, not really, but it would be clean and gleaming.

In stooping to perform many duties, sometimes it is easier to get upon one's knees while the knees are still working well. Agility is given to the young and that is wonderful and when you come to a point where we can no longer do those kinds of jobs, someone younger can get it done. Isn't that why we have children and grandchildren? No? Yes? :):)

Yours truly was a mother who got down on the floor to play with her children. We would kneel to play with Lincoln Logs, Legos, Checkers, Monopoly...maybe not kneel the whole time ~ but a good portion of it was spent shifting from sitting, stooping and kneeling. When my knees do not groan, I sometimes do the same with my grandchildren. It feels good to play like a child now and then. As a grandmom I see my grandchildren differently than I did my own when I was raising them.

Gardening is another way a mother kneels in beautifying her home's surroundings. Planting evergreens, flowers, shrubs, etc., involves much kneeling and often times her child could and would learn about nurturing by helping her. How lovely to see mothers kneeling by their children teaching them how to plant seeds. I have seen the glee in a child's face when what he planted began to immerge from the soil. There was much excitement to see a little piece of green pop up out of a flower pot or the earth.

You hear a plink and a rolling. The coin disappears. What do you do? You get down on your knees to look for it and you seek it until it is found. If we had no knees, how would we get down there to look for it, let alone find it. The mother in me has done it innumerable times when the little ones would drop whatever could roll and which was small enough to roll under the couch, chair, or bed.

Do we take our knees for granted? Do we thank God we were able to use our knees as mothers to perform all that needs and needed to be done. Do we, like me, think only of knees now....now that they are not what they used to be? I can't remember thanking God for the use of my knees. I may have thanked Him for many other things, but knees? I think not. From now on, though, I will try to be more aware of all of the gifts He grants, no matter what size and shape I may be assuming as I am consuming. I love to eat and as I think about it, moderation is the key to saving extra work on those knees. A pun was intended. :):)

The most important use of knees is kneeling in prayer of petition, thanksgiving, praise and worship. When a mother kneels she teaches her child, not only by her example but by her words. She encourages her child to kneel by his bedside to say thanks to God for the gift of the day and everything within it, to ask God to protect him through the night. She is also teaching the child humility.

The child can learn to say, "Good Morning, Dear God" upon arising, and at bedtime, "Good Night, Dear God." These are simple prayers a child can learn in greeting the Lord as his personal Lord and Savior. As in gardening, the seed is planted early on; nurture it well. Water it with the Word of the Lord from the holy Bible and the Son will shine upon your child.

Mother can kneel while her child kneels at his bedside to pray to God. When a mother thinks she may go unnoticed, her child notices quite a bit. So Moms, put your best knees forward, if not in kneeling, then in sitting in a fashion you would not mind your child copying. Our children are little "me's." Teach your child to mirror you, as you mirror Jesus.

For mothers whose children have gone before them, I pray a Holy Happy Mother's Day blessed with the knowledge your child is still loving you and most likely more so as he waits for your arrival one day at the appointed hour for that joyful reunion.

And in coming to a close, may I take this opportunity to greet all mothers, all grandmothers, all great grandmothers, all step-mothers and all adoptive mothers by wishing all of you a HAPPY and HOLY MOTHER'S DAY filled with God's Blessings a thousandfold upon you.

© Mel Patterson, 5-08

Monday, March 24, 2008


Many years ago when my husband and I were little more than newlyweds, I would make his lunch and pack it so he would have a fit meal to carry him through the day. I had the bright idea one day to include a little note inside of his sandwich. The note said simply: "I love you."

He reminded me this morning, some 46 years later, of that day when he bit into his sandwich and tugged on the note within. We laughed for the humor it evoked and then how much more through these long years our love has continued to grow and still grows.

I asked him what the people who saw him biting into his sandwich thought when they saw him pull out the note?. He said they were somewhat taken aback and just looked. However, I seem to remember their ribbing the dickens out of him saying in sing-song fashion that his 'wife sent him a love note in a sandwich.'

Do you receive love notes everyday? What am I getting at? Well, we all receive love notes everyday in the form of prayers others pray for us and in the love notes we send praying for others. Whether they are actually on paper or email or within our hearts, we send and receive many love notes everyday. Look at the love coming through our prayer groups.

We can receive huge windfalls of love notes everyday in the form of the books of the Bible. The Word of the Lord is the Love of the Lord for us. Every verse, every word is a love note inspired by the Holy Spirit from writers so disposed to hearing and writing down what God wanted them to do, every word, every phrase, every verse, every chapter, every book, all in the Holy Bible. All of it is a gargantuan love note from God.

If for some reason you are feeling unloved, take a step back as soon as you gain some equilibrium and make note of the many ways love does come to you through the designs of Almighty God who loves you beyond all telling.
Many people do not realize they are part of a bigger picture, thinking the world revolves around them and only them. They need our prayers, patience and love as they are children of the same Father who is Father to all of us. As mirror images of our Father we must radiate his love to others, treat them as our sisters and brothers, love them. As the Lord came to serve, so also we as Christians must serve. Let us serve love notes with kind words and kind actions. Let our love notes be in the form of prayers to our Father for them, for their salvation.

Your love notes might not be in a sandwich, like mine, so long ago, but consider the love you can send, literally, to someone in a note,
or in prayers you can pray for them.

© Mel Patterson, 3-17-08


Do you feel as though you are being tossed about,
As if in high seas with the storm's pounding clout?
Do you feel battle weary, fatigued beyond all reason?
Do you wonder if you'll ever reach a peaceful season?

As the rolling waves of the ocean ebb and flow
And the fierce winds blast your life to and fro
Know you're in a temporary and not permanent place
And ask the Lord to fill your heart with His Grace.

The storms of life are many; this we know as fact.
We've tried every conceivable thought, word and act
When all has been said and done seemingly for naught,
We pause finally and listen to God's renewing thought.

At times we wonder why no one comes to our rescue
Feeling defeated and deserted, our lives all askew.
We come to the realization that God truly does care
And we can see a new horizon on the wings of Prayer.

© Mel Patterson, 3-16-08


In an attempt to remove caked-on wax from 3 brass candle holders,
I had placed the three of them in the freezer to harden the wax,
hoping and expecting the wax removal to be made easier. One candle holder had a big piece of white candle stubbornly locked in place.

We light the candles every week during a meeting in our Church Hall. Our meetings last one and one half hours. Being so wrapped up in our meetings we don't pay strict attention to the condition of the candle holders but simply relight them week after week until those large white candles need to be replaced. We also use clear 1 inch wide disks to collect the melting wax. Some people call them bobages or babages. They help to save the table linens nicely.

This week I decided to take all of the candle paraphernalia home to clean it and have it ready for the meeting next week. I pulled out of the freezer the 3 brass candle holders and easily cleaned two, polished them and set them aside. The third brass candle holder needed much work because the white candle was wedged above and beneath the holder.

Intellectual brain that I am, I took a knife and worked and worked, probed and probed and I could see a break in the offing. There was just the hardened piece in the middle that was the most stubborn. I took the point of the knife and neglected to move my left hand from the point of the knife. After seeing a little hole in the candle I kept working until I pierced my left palm. Boy, did that hurt. It bled only a little. I cleaned it with alcohol swabs to ward off infection.

That wound throbbed and throbbed for quite a while. I thought how dumb I was to do that and just as quickly was reminded of Jesus' wounds, that of being nailed by the hands, both of them, and His feet, to the Cross. I offered up the mild pain in reparation for my own sins and united it with Jesus on the Cross.

I still have a discolored area of dried blood healing over without any signs of infection but it reminds me that Jesus suffered tremendously for me, for us. If my wounding myself hurt me as much as it did, I can only imagine the intolerable pain He suffered even though He did, in fact, suffer that same intolerable pain a thousand times over for an immeasurable amount of God's children from from Adam to the very last person conceived in the future, in this earthly life. Incomprehensible Lord Jesus, thank You. Thank You for taking our sins to the Cross. Mercy Incomprehensible, by Your dying You have restored our life.

When I look at the wounds of Jesus, I am filled with sorrow, with remorse and with love for Him. When I look at His death, alone on the Cross, with all the bystanders watching, I see myself as a bystander as well. I stand with His poor afflicted Mother and wonder at her own pain and sorrow. I see Jesus taken down from the Cross and see a living Pieta. I see Jesus being taken to the place of His Burial and the stone rolled over with soldiers standing guard.

I see His loved ones walking away bearing their own sorrow pondering the meaning of Jesus' life and death. Do they know what will happen in three days? Do they believe all He promised? Are they bereft of hope, or deep down inside is there the flicker of a Holy Spirit spark welling up, as yet, unbeknownst to them? Three days of heart and gut wrenching pain they all endured, especially Mary, His Mother. She had to have been reminiscing shared moments from His infancy to His childhood to His manhood, His cruel torture and His ultimate death. She surely must have pondered within her heart all of these things.

Then comes the Morning and now ends the mourning. JESUS has RISEN from the dead !!! There is excitement and wonder. The LORD has RISEN !
The news spread among His loved ones, among His Apostles. His Mother was relieved, overjoyed, excited and longed to see Him. They all longed to see Him. One by one eventually they came to believe all He taught them was coming to pass. The only one had a problem in believing Jesus had risen was Thomas. The others and His Mother, of course, knew Jesus Christ was Lord and the Son of God. Thomas placed his hand into Jesus side and prostrated himself, "My LORD and my GOD!" "Thomas, because you have seen, you believe. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe."

That is you and I, friends. We are blessed because the Lord tells us so. Being blessed we thank Him for His Life, His Death, and His Resurrection. He says "I AM THE RESURRECTION." Because He lives, we live. He has opened the Gates of Heaven to us. THIS is what it is all about. As Jesus rose from the dead, when we die, we shall also rise from the dead to life, eternal life in heaven if we believe and love as Jesus loves. His whole life pointed to eternal life. Something beyond now awaits us. For some it is a distant shore. For others it is closer. When our ship comes in we will be greeted and embraced by the Lord, each one of us, at the appointed hour. We look forward to the day we will enjoy the fruits of the Lord's Resurrection, that Heavenly Shore where we shall see Jesus face to face and be reunited with loved ones who have risen with Him already.

Be of good cheer, the Lord draws near. HAIL to the KING of GLORY! Heaven awaits those who follow His ways.

© Mel Patterson, 3-22-08

Friday, March 07, 2008

Meditations on the Passion

Your Agony in the Garden

Lord, I punish you mentally. My sin causes you anguish. I have delighted in evil and have ignored you, Sweet Jesus, immeasurably. Look what I have and am doing to you. Your agony is my fault. You sweat beads of blood. The evil one lurks and hovers over you because of me. The vulgarity and stench of evil slithers all around you, who are all Purity. You are human and Divine. You are making a way for my soul and I am overcome with remorse for my sins that have and are causing you this horrible agony. Forgive me.

Your Scourging

You are dragged to the place where switches are waiting. Soldiers with no reverence badger you with merciless jeers. Your hands are tied together and your balance is thrown off with their shoving you cruelly. Finally you arrive for the scourging that you do not deserve. They throw you against a splintered pillar and with each lash the crude leather slices your flesh. It was me, Lord, who beat you mercilessly with my sins. With each raised hand that came crashing upon your back, such was my sin, ripping your skin so that no unbeaten flesh could be seen.
O Lord, I am sorry.
Forgive me.

Your Crowning with Thorns

As your battered body leans against the stone wall of that dank dark cell jeering soldiers approach you with a thorny crown which they press upon your precious head. The thorns's points break the skin of your scalp and forehead. It was I who cruelly crowned you, Lord, with the full force of my sin. Blood dripped from every point that pierced you. You suffered for me. I am ashamed for having put you through this. Forgive me.

The Carrying of Your Cross

The cross not gently applied lays heavily upon your back and shoulder. Slowly with scourged skin, painful crown, and dried blood you painstakingly drag that cross over each cobblestone and with each step the cross digs deeper into your shoulder. You fall, not once, not twice, but three times. You catch a glimpse of your afflicted mother and your eyes meet briefly. Such sorrow a mother has not known and such sorrow a Son has not known for his mother. You move on but barely. If Simon of Cyrene had not been summoned to assist you with the cross, it was feared you would die before your death upon that cross. I was your cross, Lord, with the full weight of my sin pressing unmercifully upon you. I am so sorry.

Your Crucifixion and Death

The soldiers grab the cross from you and let it crash hard to the ground. They strip you and throw you down upon that crude cross. With nails as big as spikes, we hammer them into each of your hands. My face is stained with your precious blood, O Lord my God. Then we move down to your feet and hammer the spike into them. Lord, your cries are like a knife driven into my heart. I can't imagine your sorrowful mother's pain. Then, we hike you up high and as the cross settles brutally into the hole your whole body is yanked crudely. Lord, what have we done? What have we done to you, God's only begotten Son, Mary's Son? We stand around the foot of your cross and realize by your stripes we are healed. You were punished for our offenses and you have died, opening up heaven to those who were waiting to be admitted.
Lord, I am not worthy. Please forgive me.

Please, Lord, do not give me what I truly deserve,
but the grace to celebrate your Resurrection on Easter Sunday.

O Lord, we await your Resurrection.

© Mel Patterson, 3-7-08

Thursday, January 03, 2008

BIRD of the Air

"Look at the birds in the sky,
that they do not sow or reap
or gather into barns,
and your heavenly Father feeds them.
Are you not worth much than they are?"

Matthew 26

Years ago while I was bemoaning my fate, I was inconsolable. I cried hard and long feeling helpless but not hopeless even though I was wailing for all I was worth. I remember being alone in the house. I guess the children were in school and my husband was at work. I had been in my red bathrobe and nightgown all day long. It was a sunny day but it was raining inside my heart. My soul and spirit were wallowing in my self-pity. I knew the day was wearing on and how could I get myself together before the children came home?

All of a sudden, I heard the most unbelievable sound of the chirp of a bird that had to have weighed 500 pounds for the chirp was the loudest I ever heard or will ever hear again. It was one chirp and I ran to the window and saw nary a bird at all.

At that point, I KNEW GOD was making a point and I stopped the wailing, the crying, the sniffling and got my act together. In that one split second, God was telling me that just as he cares for the birds of the air, how much more does he care for me.

I felt loved and consoled and when the children came home, I was showered and dressed, at peace and happy to be alive. I thanked God for his love.

When I think about it or see the above quote, I shall always remember that in my time of distress, when I felt unloved, unneeded, there is One who will never stop loving me, the God who created me out of His Love.

Mel Patterson - 1-3-08