rose amongst thorns

hello! I really love the reflections on your blog. You seem like a cool kid just trying to live out your faith the best you can. I am Catholic as well and I struggle with reconciling my faith with the Church, but each day gets better.I would love to chat more sometime! Maybe we could email? Have a great day. ~Zach

Tue, 07 May 2013 19:07:39 -0400

Hi Zach! Thank you so much! My contact email for this tumblr is allenroseamongstthorns@gmail.com

Feel free to email me whenever about any questions, or if you just want to talk!

To my future daughter(s),

Tue, 07 May 2013 18:51:00 -0400

When I was 14, I had a crush on a popular boy in my class. A big crush. A HUGE crush. It felt like my heart burst every time I thought about him, and when I saw him my breath would catch. We were both in band and drumline, and our moms were friends, so I wasn’t exactly crushing from afar. We were friends, and I took full advantage of it. This was around the time my mom was pushing me to think about attending a private high school instead of the public, which would’ve meant leaving all my friends. It would’ve meant leaving him. Being the rebellious teenager I was, I refused to go. I thought I was absolutely, positively in love with him.
But, like most teenage romances, there were two things wrong with him. 1, he had a girlfriend. And 2, he was straight. Or so I thought. See, one day, at a band competition no less, he started telling our friends he thought he was bisexual. As if that wasn’t enough to make my heart thump out of my chest, he was saying that it was because of me. He LIKED me. And because of ME, he and his girlfriend decided to take a break.
For the next two weeks, my dreams came true. We talked, we wrote in notebooks about each other and exchanged them. The entrance exam for the private high school was in a month or so, and I decided to purposely fail the exam so we could go to school together. All my friends knew. Everyone knew he had a crush on me. I knew girls were jealous, and I loved it. I basked in every single minute of it. I was ecstatic, floating in air and sailing through skies of giggles and butterflies in my stomach.

Then, almost as sudden as it began, it ended.

He went back to his girlfriend, who still wanted to fight me. The jealousy glares turned into sympathy stares. I was free falling from the sky with no parachute, and I felt like someone had ripped out my heart and tore it apart, stomped on it and then shoved it back inside. I couldn’t bear to go to school, because that meant seeing him. I couldn’t bear to go to band or drumline rehearsal, because that meant having to work with him. I avoided parties, because I didn’t want to force myself to smile in front of him. I was destroyed. I went through the next few weeks in a haze. I finally forced myself to go to a party, to ease my mom’s mind, and of course, there he was. Despite my attempts to avoid him, I was cornered. He said he wanted to talk. The rest of the party, the rest of the world sort of just faded away. So we talked.

As it turns out, he wanted to talk about what happened at the band competition when he told me he liked me. He and his girlfriend were having problems, he explained. He needed to get her attention. And what better way to get your girlfriend’s attention than to tell her you have feelings for someone else? Not just anybody else…but someone of the same sex? Why make a splash when you can make a tidal wave, right? In this case, it was a monsoon. And I was the city it was about to destroy. It was all a lie. Everything, the notes, the words. None of it held truth, and the tape holding my heart together fell apart and it was broken again. This time, the pieces were even smaller. I thought it would be impossible to put it back together again.

At the peak of my teen angst, came exam day.

I poured every single tear, every single rip in my heart into that exam. Going to a different school would mean I would never have to see him. It would mean starting over. It would mean leaving all my friends, but at least I would be away from him. And you know what happened, baby girl?

I got in.

I left my heart in junior high. And I went to a brand new school, away from all my friends. I spent my first day of high school eating lunch in the boy’s bathroom.

Some people said I was crazy; changing my life for a boy. Leaving everything I knew, leaping out of my comfort zone just because my heart was broken. But what I really did was move on. I’ve made a lot of bad, spontaneous decisions in my life, but I knew deep in my bones that this was one for the better.

High school is where God found me.

My dad didn’t protect me from my very first heartbreak, and he wasn’t there to pick up the broken pieces. But my Father? He was there in every single tear, in every single sleepless night. In every sad love song, and in every crack in my heart, because the only way for Him to consume my whole heart was for him to break down the walls guarding it first.

Love is everywhere around you, my dear. In every star that burns in the night and in every flower that blooms from the ground. In every smile, and if you look hard enough, in every tear. You might not want to tell me everything, but remember that while my arms are always an available haven for you to take refuge, God holds your heart in His hands. Immerse yourself in the love of Christ, my child. Be so in love with Him that any boy who even thought about courting you would have to know and Love Him first.

Also remember to look for blessings, even in the worst of times. If I was praying for a way to get over this boy, God wasn’t going to make my feelings dissipate overnight. He gave me the opportunity, and I took it. It was His invitation. It pains me to know that I won’t be able to fend off every boy who falls for you, no matter how much I try to scare them, but I only pray that one day you’ll find the man who will sprint toward Christ by your side. Not behind you, or in front of you. Beside you.

“Pure gold put in the fire comes out of it proved pure; genuine faith put through this suffering comes out proved genuine…It’s your faith, not your gold, that God will have on display as evidence of His victory.”
—- 1 Peter 1:6-7

I love you so much already. I’m already praying for you.

Love always,
Papa

Photo

Wed, 17 Apr 2013 01:15:53 -0400

openyoureyestobeauty: You are more than the choices that...

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 23:45:05 -0400

openyoureyestobeauty:

You are more than the choices that you've made, 
                            
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes, 
                              
You are more than the problems you create, 
               
You've been remade.

Hi brothers and sisters,

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 23:26:00 -0400

The last post from this blog was 7 months ago. Simply reading (and re-reading) that fact, for me, doesn’t truly speak on how long 7 months feels. Approximately 28 weeks, give or take. 196 days. Four thousand seven hundred four hours—-of struggle, of diminishing faith and of heartbreak. Abandonment. Anger-turned-rage. Fear. Depression.

In short, I was falling apart.

I would feel pieces of darkness sticking to me, but at first they were small enough for me to brush off, like bits of lint attracted by static. It wasn’t much of a distraction, then. I plucked off the tiny pieces and blew them away. It took a while, but after some time, I grew weary. And for whatever reason, I thought it best to rely on my own strength. The pieces of darkness grew bigger, like pieces of scrap fabric. By then it was like there was a stronger adhesive, and instead of brushing them off I found myself trying to rip them away like velcro. And with the bigger pieces went little parts of myself. I watched as I was being slowly ripped away and the pieces of darkness simply increased in size and density. I became exhausted. I fell. Humiliated, I attempted to save parts of myself; I was met with more darkness.

Defeated, I stopped moving. I allowed the darkness to wash over me, because it was easier than standing. I let myself stand still because I couldn’t find the fight or strength in myself to move. I thought that someone, anyone, would come to help me. I thought that someone would pull me out and help me through it. Like a child, I waited with outstretched arms. I waited. And waited. And after giving up hope that none of my friends would come, I found myself being suffocated by the darkness of what the world told me was freedom.

It wasn’t until recently that I discovered that I could not rip off the darkness myself. It is impossible for me to rely on my strength alone, for He is stronger than me at my strongest. I wasn’t waiting to find someone who would help me. I was waiting to be found. The child in me, with outstretched arms, was—-is, and forever will be—-reaching for my Father.

The only way to rid of darkness is with light.

In luce vive, vive in amore
(Live in light, live in love)

Allen
St. Rose of Lima

Photo

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 22:47:53 -0400

When I think of this blog I think of St. Rose of Lima. I also think it's awesome that you've posted on her feast day. :)

Fri, 24 Aug 2012 03:13:58 -0400

Aww, thank you Myra! What a commendation, coming from someone who I’ve come to look up to and respect so much. It means a lot :) I hope all is well with you and, from what I hear, your travels!

Objective? Or subjective? Im a bit lost. Seems subjective to me since it was your experience. Unless you are implying that the reason behind taking your best friend is object and should be viewed that was by all ppl

Fri, 24 Aug 2012 02:16:28 -0400

whoops! I did mean subjective, based on my experience. I apologize! It has been fixed. Thank you!

teenage dreams and gay youth culture

Fri, 24 Aug 2012 01:35:00 -0400

This list came up on my dashboard under “things I hate about being gay”. I just wanted to take a few of the points and talk about them.

That I never got to go to prom with who I wanted to go with because I was so deep in the closet.

Well the only response I can give to this is ~~objective~~ subjective (thanks anon!) , because when it came to my senior prom I refused to have my date rule my experience. Your date is meant to enhance your prom experience, not make or break it! I went to my senior Prom with one of my best friends, a girl, and it was one of the funnest nights of my life. I understand that having a boy as a date would have been nice, it would’ve made a nice story. But I wouldn’t let that ruin the once-in-a-lifetime (kind of overrated adjective but true nonetheless) experience that is senior Prom.

How people can hate me or tell me I’m going to hell based off some old book.

Let’s start off by saying that the Bible is so much more than “some old book”. I won’t speak for the general Catholic community here, I’ll speak from my opinion: the Bible, to me, is the greatest Love story of all time. The story of how the Son of God loves me so much that walked down the Via Dolorosa and died on the Cross for me (keep in mind that He died for ALL of us! I’m just speaking from a single person point-of-view)

Second, Catholics are not called to hate gay people.

I will say it again for emphasis:

Catholics are not called to hate gay people.

We are all called to love one another, as we are all God’s children, we are all created in His image. Any disrespect shown toward gay people should be avoided, always.

Third, people will talk a lot of smack to your face. I’ve heard it all: you’re gonna burn in hell, fag! God hates gays! you’re a living abomination!

I’ve also learned that I cannot let it phase me. And I won’t let it. If someone says to me, “you’re going to hell”, does it mean I have a one-way ticket to damnation? Uh…no. I will get to where I am called to be through my actions, through God’s Will and plan for me. Not through some snide and rude remark made by a shopper at Ross (yes, it’s happened).

Being known or defined as the “gay friend.”
Having to out myself every time I meet a new person and worrying about whether they will care or not.

I combined these two together for a reason. Throughout high school, especially in my senior year, I walked around campus dripping in fabulous. Every student and faculty member knew who I was, and when I first arrived to my private school, it was because of my sexuality. I quickly became “the gay kid”, and with a school as small as mine, that kind of label was hard to escape.

Of course I met girls who wanted a “gay friend”, and I fit the stereotype: I shopped with them and was honest, I told them that they looked good, and I gave them relationship advice even though I was single throughout my 4 years in high school. But in my group of friends, was I known as the gay friend? No. Because I let my actions speak for me. I had my friends’ back, I loved them like family and I cared for them with compassion. That’s what defined my friendships.

As I got older, I refused, absolutely down-to-my-bones refused to be known for being gay. I would not let my personality, character or attitude be overshadowed by who I am attracted to. I did everything I could to make my mark. I was in school plays, I was on Student Council, I ran my own fashion show, I became the first boy on our school’s flag team, I coordinated rallies and was a co-captain of Prom Team. I was not going to leave my school being known as “the gay kid”. And I didn’t.

Now, in college, I still feel a little uneasy meeting a bunch of new people who may or may not know that I’m gay. It’s funny because earlier this year, during my last lab of my second semester, I was talking to my lab partner (who had been my partner for 2/3 of that semester) and I casually brought up how I thought someone in our class was cute. She looked at me in awe and said, “You’re gay!?” I couldn’t believe I almost went through an entire semester and she had no idea. Now, this could just be attributed to the fact that I dress differently than I did in high school, but I’d like to think it’s because I no longer felt like it was a big deal. If someone who I meet suddenly changed their opinion of who I am as a person just because I’m gay, then why should I worry about making that person my friend? If someone is that prejudiced against gay people that they don’t want to be my friend based solely on that little part of what makes me me, then why should I dwell on it? It’s their loss.

My point is: if people want to be your friend, they will be your friend because of your personality. Being gay does not define who you are, unless you let it.

That I never got a Teenage Dream like Katy Perry’s.

I can see how this would be upsetting. I used to wish that I could have that stereotypical teenage romance too, because that’s what the world portrayed to me as happiness, as love. The media kinda shoves this idea of teenage romance into the youth of today that we all crave it, no matter what our sexuality. But we have to remember that everyone’s story is different, and not all of us will have that “teenage dream”. And that’s okay. Because if God isn’t calling you to it, it’s because He has something that much better in store for you.

It also kind of upsets me that the media makes relationships seem like such a big deal when they’re not (I know, I know—-“only single people would say that”). It IS possible to be happy and successful and single! You don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy, and if you think that you do, then you probably shouldn’t be in a relationship.

How certain straight guys think I’m hitting on them just because I’m friendly. Don’t flatter yourself.

Okay…kind of agree with this one. I mean, I’m just tryna be homies ya feel? Don’t get it twisted. /better recognize

Not feeling normal, feeling different from everybody else.

I don’t know about anyone else…but I love being different. I love standing out from a crowd, and I even like feeling like I don’t belong (sometimes). Living in my little town in the east Bay Area for almost all my life, I always stood out.

One Sunday, exactly a week after my nineteenth birthday, I took a lonely trip to San Francisco for a cheer clinic. Afterward, I had to roam around the city for a while to find 1) sea salt for my recent nose piercing, 2) sustenance, 3) clothes for Mass because I didn’t bring any with me. Walking around after that clinic is when it hit me: I didn’t stand out here. I was comfortable, sure, but I was just like everybody else: we all talked the same, walked the same, had similar hand gestures. It was nice, but it made me anxious. It made me feel like while I belonged here, it wasn’t what I was used to. I was born to stand out. I was born to be different.

Sure, it was comfortable. But I wasn’t made for comfort. I was made for greatness.

Litany to St. Rose of Lima

Thu, 23 Aug 2012 16:19:00 -0400

The Litany of St. Rose of Lima

For Private Use Only.

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, have mercy on us.

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, hear us.

Christ, graciously hear us.

God the Father of heaven,

have mercy on us.

God the Son, Redeemer of the world,

have mercy on us.

God the Holy Ghost,

have mercy on us.

Holy Trinity, one God,

have mercy on us.

Holy Mary, Queen of Virgins,

pray for us.

St. Dominic, glorious Patriarch, etc.

St. Rose, prepared by the dew of heavenly grace,

St. Rose, in whom the grace of God was not fruitless,

St. Rose, from infancy illustrious for holiness,

St. Rose, in whom the grace of God, was not fruitless,

St. Rose, from infancy illustrious for holiness,

St. Rose, foolish to the world but chosen by God, to confound the wise,

St. Rose, dear to the Virgin Mary, while yet a child,

St. Rose, consecrated to Christ by a vow of virginity,

St. Rose, who didst abhor worldly vanities,

St. Rose, who didst despise beauty,

St. Rose, who didst disdain all things to gain Christ,

St. Rose, shining example of an angelic life,

St. Rose, lily among the thorns,

St. Rose, nailed to the Cross of Christ,

St. Rose, model of patience and mortification,

St. Rose, who didst fast almost beyond human strength,

St. Rose, crowned with sharp nails,

St. Rose, who didst gain unnumbered victories over demons,

St. Rose, victim of many calumnious tongues,

St. Rose, refreshed by heavenly consolations,

St. Rose, favored by appearances of the Mother of God,

St. Rose, devoted to heavenly contemplation,

St. Rose, inflamed with seraphic love of God,

St. Rose, ardently zealous for the salvation of souls,

St. Rose, whose charity was not extinguished by persecutions,

St. Rose, whose didst exhale the sweet fragrance of Christ,

St. Rose, dying in the love of Jesus and Mary,

St. Rose, who wast brought to Him whom thou didst love,

St. Rose, first Flower of sanctity in America,

St. Rose, ornament of Christian virgins,

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world,

spare us O Lord.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world,

graciously hear us O Lord.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world,

have mercy on us.

Christ hear us.

Christ, graciously hear us.

Pray for us St. Rose.

That we may be made worthy of the promise of Christ.

Let Us Pray.

Almighty God, the author and giver of all good things, who didst will that Blessed Rose should

be prepared by the dew of grace from Heaven, and should bloom in America as a beauteous

flower of virginity and patience, grant to us Thy servants to be drawn by the perfume of her

virtue, that we may deserve to become a sweet fragrance of Christ, who livesth and reigneth

world without end. Amen.

Happy Feast Day, St. Rose of Lima! St. Rose of Lima is the...

Thu, 23 Aug 2012 16:18:22 -0400

Happy Feast Day, St. Rose of Lima!

St. Rose of Lima is the reason I have the word “rose” in so many of my social networking sites. For anyone who may be unfamiliar with her biography, it was said that St. Rose was a strikingly beautiful young woman with many admirers; because of this, she saw her beauty as a potential temptation to others. She refused to marry because her heart had been given to Jesus. Because of this, she marred her face with pepper and lye until it was red and blistered.

As a Catholic struggling with his vocation to be single, St. Rose is my inspiration to give my entire life and heart to God. Being single doesn’t mean being “alone”. In actuality, it means the opposite. It means that with all my heart and my soul I am called give my life to Christ.

I may not be called to give my love to one person in this world, but it’s only because I’m called to love the world. Which is scary, because there are so many people who will not like me, who will not believe in what I stand for. But that is my cross to bear, and I bear it with joy.

amor vincit omnia
Allen

The Litany of St. Rose will be my next post. Hope you all have a wonderful day!

Photo

Thu, 23 Aug 2012 02:48:28 -0400

gwyneth-the-pianist: Indescribable. Chris Tomlin.

Thu, 23 Aug 2012 02:37:04 -0400

gwyneth-the-pianist:

Indescribable. Chris Tomlin.

update --- 0817

Fri, 17 Aug 2012 04:17:03 -0400

Hi everyone!

In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been very MIA these past few months. Reason being, simply put: I’ve been spiritually dry.

I think I’ll do a longer testimony on this chapter in my life someday. Not anytime soon, however, because I still need time to process it myself. I still need to pray about it and understand why I went through what I did.

I look back at my very first post on this blog to remind myself of why I started writing in the first place. I’ve been struggling with both my sexuality and my faith, not together, but how they’ve sort of influenced each other. With each tribulation that came my way, I’m trying to remind myself that I don’t write to rant about my struggles. So what do I write about?

I believe (correct me if I’m wrong) Mother Teresa once said, “suffering is a kiss from God”. I write because it helps me find the beauty in struggle. It helps me find the Love that has been and always will be present in my life, even when I’m too stubborn to seek Him.

One thing that I distinctly remember during this past summer—-I was constantly trying to look for happiness. I wasn’t happy with my ministry, and because I had tied my ministry to my faith, I assumed I wasn’t happy with my faith. So I searched for happiness elsewhere. In other people, in other activities, at garage parties and booming nightclubs. I searched in clothes I couldn’t afford, in promises I couldn’t keep, in people I couldn’t trust. And even though I was doing what seemed to make other people happy, I was far from joyful. If anything, I was depressed.

It took (or what seemed like) forever for me to realize that every time I sought happiness or love, I was looking for Christ.
Every single time I sought love, I was looking for Christ.
Every single time I sought truth, I was looking for Christ.

And it hit me hard.

I know that I’m ending this chapter in my life, and I pray that one day I’ll understand why it happened the way it did. But for now I can only smile because I came back and was welcomed with open arms. Because even when I thought I didn’t care, He cared about me.

He called my name, shouted for me, and I am running back into His arms at full speed.

amor vincit omnia

onetwozerothree: Party all week!...

Mon, 09 Apr 2012 15:27:49 -0400

onetwozerothree:

Party all week! Yeeeeeeeeah!

SOLEMNITIES(spring break + birthday octave) = PARTYIN’ PARTYIN’ YEAHHHHHH

What Love Really Means - JJ Heller Think of this as an audio...

Mon, 09 Apr 2012 15:20:12 -0400

What Love Really Means - JJ Heller

Think of this as an audio companion for my previous reflection. Enjoy!

I think I’ll make uploading a song a day a new habit, because I’m the type of person who, when he hears a really good song, just HAS to tell people about it.

"We have that swagger, it is a humble swagger, because we know that this is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad."

Mon, 09 Apr 2012 02:52:44 -0400

Happy Easter everyone! To all you who gave up tumblr & are getting back on your dashboards, welcome back!

Also, to everyone who greeted me a happy birthday: thank you! I will be responding to all the messages in my inbox as soon as I can.

I’m on spring break this week, so expect reflections on my Lenten fast (against vanity) and on playing Judas Iscariot for this year’s Passion Play 2012.

"The art of losing myself to bring You praise"

Sun, 08 Apr 2012 12:03:30 -0400

He cries in the corner where nobody sees
He’s the kid with the story no one would believe
He prays every night
“Dear God, won’t you please
Could you send someone here
Who will love me?’

I heard this song on the radio a few weeks ago [“What Love Really Means” by JJ Heller], and knew I had to get my hands on it immediately, based solely on the first verse. It really hit home, because, well: that kid was me.

I “came out of the closet” officially in the seventh grade.

Middle school relationships aren’t always the most serious relationships (bit of an understatement here). For example, I had my first “boyfriend” for exactly one day. He told me what he wanted from the relationship, I realized I wasn’t ready for such a commitment (I was 14!) and I ran away. I’ve never been in a “serious” relationship with someone of the same sex since then.

This bothered me a lot more in high school, when the rest of my classmates had their hormones put into overdrive and immediately began latching onto girls and/or guys and began delving into relationships that, more often than not, ended sooner than later. I naturally made friends with several girls (not because of my sexuality, but because I grew up in a female-dominated household), who demanded I take them shopping and gossip with them. I relented, and eventually became part of a circle of girls who I still care about to this day.

To be honest, I was always a little jealous of these girls. All of them were strikingly beautiful, and the boys in our school definitely took notice. It’s not that I wanted to be them, I wanted to do what they could do. I was always the “gay best friend”, always giving advice and always willing to listen to the relationship drama based on experiences I never had because, well, I never had a “serious” relationship.

I would pray and pray and pray that I would find a boyfriend. Someone who would sweep me off my feet like my girl friends, someone who would accept every quirk and every flaw and listened to every word I had to say. I wanted to be able to stop a guy in his tracks with just a smile (okay now I’m exaggerating, but you know what I mean). I wanted to be happy, like all my friends were. I wanted the butterflies, the laughter and even the tears. I thought it was because I was gay, and the population of males with same-sex attraction in my town was sparse. I would convince myself that this had to be the reason why. I was so irritated, not with him or my girl friends, but with myself. I demanded the truth, I needed to know the truth. I was angry and sad at the same time because I thought I wasn’t conveniently “attractive” enough to have a guy notice me. When I would ask God for someone to find me and love me, my prayer sounded a lot like the chorus of JJ Heller’s song:

Who will love me for me
Not for what I have done
Or for what I’ll become
Who will love me for me
Cause nobody has shown me what love,
What love really means.

This is all in retrospect.

As a Catholic with same-sex attraction, my call is to be single. [Initial reaction: WAAAAAAAT U DON’T WANT NO BOYFREN!?]

Does this mean I’m completely scotch-free of any attraction to males and I have no emotional inclination to be in a relationship ever in my lifetime? No. It’s a daily struggle, but as always, being Catholic PERIOD in today’s society will always be a battle.

As for my prayers to God? Well, they were definitely answered. Only, I didn’t find him; He found me.

Jesus swept me off my feet.
He knew me before I was formed in the womb, and loves me for all my quirks and flaws. Unconditionally.
God listens to every single word I say, because I take the time out to tell Him everything.
I wanted a boy to hold my hand, when all the while, God has been holding my heart in His hands.
I wanted the truth.
I was seeking Jesus.
I wanted happiness.
I was seeking Jesus.
I wanted Love.
I was seeking God.

Little did I know, in my quest for a boyfriend, I found Christ, and because Christ is Love, I found Love. True, unconditional Love.

I have watched you suffer
All of your life
And now that you’ll listen, I’ll
I’ll tell you that I

I will love you for you
Not for what you have done, or for what you’ll become
I will love you for you
I will give you the Love
the Love that you never knew

Memento mori
Allen M
[St. Rose of Lima]

bethestraw: 7LW: Allen Mendoza - “Father, into your hands I...

Fri, 06 Apr 2012 02:50:37 -0400

bethestraw:

7LW: Allen Mendoza - “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

“I have more than just my sexuality, I have my faith. And that’s something that no one can ever take away from me.” - Allen Mendoza

Catholic blogger Allen Mendoza offers his reflection on Jesus’ words: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

Allen explores what it means to offer one’s spirit, one’s whole life to the Father. Hear him reflect on Jesus’ sacrifice in parallel to his own journey of faith as a Catholic with same sex attraction.

For more on Allen and his faith journey, check out his blog: amongstthorns.tumblr.com

For a playlist of all of the 7 Last Words reflections click here: http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL1834649E4ADDC34C

Photo

Thu, 05 Apr 2012 16:05:32 -0400