Be the Buttercup: Seeking His Hidden Kingdom

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Seeking His Hidden Kingdom

SON OF DAVID. KING OF THE JEWS.

Where should a soul first seek the Kingdom of God?
Is not every sort of Kingdom found where the King reigns?

Like the buried mustard seed hidden in the dirt of a garden, Christ the King reigns hidden in the hearts of those humbled with holy poverty; knowing themselves to be totally dependent on the King's Good Grace. Christ the King is hidden in those who resist the seductions of vain glory and instead have surrender their lives to toiling in the vineyard of souls. Christ is found hidden in every tear that mourns over evil and sin. He is hidden in the interior lives of those with an appetite for holiness alone; yearning only to reflect the beautiful, perfect image of Christ the King. Transfigured in His perfection, Divine Mercy rules in the heart of every Knight, Lady and Bishop of the land. The intentions of every royal servant is purified in selfless devotion to the common good; motivated by sincere charity. Here, within the shelter of His palace walls of Truth, His children are not subjects of fear or anger or want..and they hide not... for they are a people of peace. Waging war with prayers, fasting and sacrifice against the enemy of souls; the militants of this Kingdom cannot be contained.

The children of God will preach the Gospel. They will baptize, serve, admonish and forgive. Come mocking, come hatred, come dungeon or come sword they will rejoice and be glad.They will be comforted and satisfied in knowing that their persecution adds to the Glory of Christ their King. And they will come to rule the world.

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Blessing on the hand of women! Angels guard its stregth and grace, In the palace, cottage, hovel, Oh, no matter where the place; Would that never storms assailed it, Rainbows ever gently curled; For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the hand that rules the world. Infancy's the tender fountain, Power may with beauty flow, Mother's first to guide the streamlets, From them souls unresting grow-- Grow on for the good or evil Sunshine streamed or evils hurled; For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the Hand that rules the world. Woman, how divin your mission Here upon our natal sod! Keep, oh, keep the youn heart open Always to the breath of GOD! All true trophies of the ages Are from the mother-love impearled; For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the hand that rules the world. Blessings on the hand of women! Fathers, sons, and daughters cry, And the sacred song is mingled withthe worship in the sky-- Mingles where no tempest darkens, Rainbows evermore are hurled; For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the hand that rules the world. William Ross Wallace (1819 - 1881)

Discontent, by Sarah Orne Jewett

Down in a field, one day in June,
The flowers all bloomed together,
Save one who tried to hide herself,
And drooped, that pleasant weather.

A robin who had flown too high
And felt a little lazy
Was resting near this buttercup
Who wished she were a daisy.

The daisies grow so trig and tall,-
She always had a passion
For wearing frills around her neck
In just the daisies' fashion.

And buttercups must always be
The same old tiresome color-
While daisies dress in gold and white,
Although their gold is duller.

'Dear robin,' said this sad young flower,
'Perhaps you'd not mind trying
To find a nice white frill for me
Some day when you are flying.'

'You silly thing!' the robin said,
'I think you must be crazy.
I'd rather be my honest self
Than any made-up daisy.

'You're nicer in your own bright gown,-
The little children love you.
Be the best buttercup you can,
And think no flower above you.

'Though swallows leave me out of sight,
We'd better keep our places;
Perhaps the world would all go wrong
With one too many daisies.

'Look bravely up into the sky
And be content with knowing
That God wished for a buttercup
Just here, where you are growing.'

Sarah Orne Jewett