It's my party!

I have a lot of time. I am retired and now to top it off, I am recovering from some surgery. I do not go outside and probably will not for another few weeks I have a lot of time. No pain, just time.
I have chosen to keep open the portal here at my house just for the company it brings. Lots of spirits good, bad and ugly are not shy about traipsing through whenever they feel like it. I finally learned how to keep the bad and the ugly in their place. The good are a fun bunch. I almost passed out the other day when the spirit of one of the nuns from my High school days showed up. She was in full habit. I yelled at Carol to come see but it takes Carol awhile to figure out that we are being visited. Carol kept interrupting while I was in deep conversational prayer with Sister Florentia. I was in awe because I never, never, never would have expected this very tightly wrapped person who passed 35 years ago to partake in such goings on.
Now, more and more traditional types are showing up. They seem less and less interested in talking to me than to each other. I now believe that I am running a dating service for uptight spirits who have crossed over but brought with them their 1950s Catholic image of God. They feel safe with me because I am a priest but they also can share their hangups in a safe environment trying to accept an open, inclusive and loving Creator Spirit which they call God the Father. I tell them that it's ok to yell at God and share their disappointments. It's my party and they can yell if they want to. You would yell too if it happened to you.
(I apologize to Lesley Gore) I wonder if Dick Clark's spirit is available. I may want to pass this ministry on after a few more late night revelries.
Fr. Rod

Mohegan Teacher

When my mother was in a nursing home in New London, Connecticut, she would tell me about the native American spirits that visited her there. She said that there were three of them, an older gentleman and a woman with an infant. They were accompanied by a large white dog.
Last night I was visited by the spirit of Rev. Sampson Occom. Please look him up on wikipedia. This learned man died in 1792. He was a Mohegan Indian from the New London, CT area. He presented a wonderful lesson on the positive and negative aspects of stoicism. Like all my lessons lately, it was done in rich living color. At the end of the lesson he insisted that I remember occom. He said it over and over so that as I awoke I was saying it out loud. It was 3am. I took my little flashlight and got my dictionary out to look up occom. I was not sure what occom was. I did not know it was his name. No luck in the dictionary. So, this morning, at a reasonable time, I googled occom and found the Rev. Professor. Its great to know that those in charge of my spiritual education can find such talented people to help me. It is also nice to do this in my sleep.

Toothless in Phoenix

Sorry for the laxness on my part. I have been too busy to blog. Busy in a psychic sense.It turns out that my little house here in North Phoenix contains a "portal." This was news to me but it explains a lot of the strange goings on around here. Even Carol is getting used to the spirits whisking in and out. The five dogs are settling down also, they seem to understand that this is going to be the norm.
As I have blogged before, I have a hard time sleeping at night, I end up wrestling with all kinds of angry spirits. I thought I broke my toe the other night while I was trying to kick one. But my friends Laura and Karen along with the hardy troops from the local Spiritualist group have taught me techniques on how to control the unruly spooks. I was given the option of closing the portal but I have elected to keep it open. In the recent past we have been able to help several traumatized spirits cross over to God's love. I can't think of a greater calling. Maybe this is why God had me become a priest. It certainly was not to serve in a church that thinks I am irreconcilable. Yes, I have given up trying to get back in the church's good graces. Over the last twelve years they have come up with all kinds of accusations to keep me out. A lot of these are accurate but I thought that since I am "special" they would get over it. Nope.
So I will continue my healing ways with those that God sends. I am heartened by the news that Stephen King is using the theme of a hospice worker who has gifts similar to mine in his next novel. I do miss the opportunities to minister that hospice chaplaincy provided but the government limitations and the deer in the headlights look from some of the hospice staff caused me to quit.
By the way, I am now officially broke even without Mitt Romney's standard of brokeness recently exhumed.
That's it for now. If I run across any ghosties that have a direct message for any of you, I will pass it along.
Oh, the title of today's missive refers to Friday's oral surgery which left me without choppers and a hole in the roof of my mouth. Many have said that I act like I have a hole in my head. Perhaps it was prophetic, to those who believe in such things. Not me!