Writings by Carmela P.

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

Monday, March 24, 2008


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