Musing at the Monastery

I dig ditches, build dams, take dams apart, haul rocks for dams, and say damn sometimes. Each day before I begin I tell God that I am doing it for God's glory. Then I bless myself and ask Mother Mary to keep me from getting hurt.

One day, my four wheeler broke down far from the monastery. I was in hip boots. I forgot to pray for my four wheeler, I guess, or else God was testing me. Most of the tests I fail, and when I say bad words, God's glory goes out the window, or, since I am already outdoors, God's glory just goes **poof**. I am not sure if I am getting holy.

We had summer for a few days last week, so the monks turned off the heat. Whenever they do that, winter returns, or at least early spring, cold and wet. It is not too much warmer inside than outside right now.

We are not allowed to whine here. That helps to keep me silent. This is supposed to be good for contemplative prayer, but when I try and center, I think whining thoughts. There is no rule against thoughts.