STS. CYRIL & METHODIUS CATHOLIC CHURCH – MARAK
Church Office: 20120 Fm 485, Burlington, Texas 76519
Rectory (254) 985-2280 Church (254) 697-4861
Parish Website: http://marakchurch.org Diocesan Website: WWW.austindiocese.org
Bulletin information: Merlene Slavik (254) 697-3801 or slavik@farm-market.net
Monday No Mass
Tuesday. 7:00 A.M. Velma Schindler
Wednesday 6:00 P.M. (Marak) August & Mary Hubnik by Sr. Andrea
Thursday 7:00 A.M. Annie Mae Vansa by Joe Vansa
10:15 A.M. (Marak) Mary Ann Vrazel by Adolph Vansa
Lector Kylie Hrozek
Offertory K J Z T Jrs.
Altar Server M Stermer, M. Green, T Fincher
Ushers Larry Green & Jason Green
Offering Offering $1,155.00 Building Fund $462.00
CHURCH CLEANING FOR Sunday Listed
07/18 Gen Schoppe, Debbie Godwin & Karen Pratt
07/25 Patsy Gaines, Andrea Anderle & Helen Gaas
SANCTUARY LIGHT 7/12 August & Mary Hubnik by Liz Jungmann
Watering Schedule 7/11 Julie 7/18 Jack Rhoades
Things to do and places to go
Cedarbrake Retreats
“Together in God’s Image” for Engaged Couples --July 30th – Aug 1st; Nov. 19th-21st. 512-949-2495
Prayer Chain : Please pray Alfred Vansa and Lisa Hanel May God grant healing to all.
Wednesday, July 21st –6:30 after Mass ----Parish Council Meeting
Loving God and Neighbor
Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life? Luke 10:25
You might expect a lengthy answer for such an important question. But the answer Jesus gives is quite short. He simply tells you to love God with all the strength you have, and to love your neighbor as yourself. That’s it! That’s all you need! Love like that, and you will inherit eternal life.
Of course, it’s easy to love when things go well, and we’re surrounded by people we care about. But how do we love when things don’t go well, and we’re hurt by people who are selfish and insensitive? Perhaps that’s the time to say to God, “Lord, I know what you are asking of me, but I find it hard to forgive. Please give me the strength to forgive as you do and to love as you love.” We can trust in a favorable answer to this kind of prayer, for the compassionate Jesus has promised to be with us in all the difficulties of our lives. Fr. Kenneth E Grabner, C.S.C.
Grandma’s Hands
Grandma, some ninety plus years,
sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, just sat with her head down
staring at her hands. When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my
presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK. Finally, not really
wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her
if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. 'Yes, I'm fine,
thank you for asking,' she said in a clear, strong voice.
'I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here staring
at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,' I explained to her.
'Have you ever looked at your hands? ' she asked. 'I mean really looked at your
hands?'
I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up
and then palms down. I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to
figure out the point she was making.
Grandma smiled and related this story: 'Stop and think for a
moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your
years. These hands, though wrinkled shriveled and weak have been the tools I
have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life. They braced and
caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. They put food into my
mouth and clothes onto my back. As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in
prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my husband and
wiped my tears when he went off to war. They have been dirty, scraped and raw,
swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn
son. Decorated with my wedding band, they showed the world that I was married
and loved someone special. They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook
when I buried my parents and spouse. They have held my children and
grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I
didn't understand. They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed
and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and
broken, dried and raw. And to this day, when not much of anything else of me
works real well, these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold
in prayer. These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of
life. But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and
take when He leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and
there I will use these hands to touch the face of God.'
I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out
and took my grandma's hands and led her home. When my hands are hurt or sore or
when I stroke the face of my children and grandchildren, I think of grandma. I
know she has been stroked and caressed and
held by the hands of God.