Paco's Blog

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Happy Birthdays!

...to my dear friends, Ana Ethridge and Raul Contreras who celebrated one more year of life on the 26 and 27 respectively.
May God bless you always my friends!


Marlene's Garden. Hopkinsville

The Ones Who Paved the Way...

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Last night at Holy Cross parish in Omaha we had to prepare dinner for the Archdiocese of Omaha’s retired priests. I, practically an illiterate when it comes down to the culinary arts, had to prepare the potatoes for the casserole, chop garlic, cuts peppers and many other things. Thank goodness I was not alone on this: 8 more seminarians were helping as well.
The whole kitchen looked as a war zone. One of the guys had to make the hour d’oeuvres and they just looked like a squirrel rolled over by a mower.

-rectory kitchen: a disaster zone!

Yet the effort was worth it: we wanted to honor these priests who have said YES to God decades ago. They arrived at 6:30. We served them all these great food and drinks. We also shared advices, memories and opinions.

-John Leonetti, Paco and Fr. John

I was appalled by their love for their priesthood and the Church. It was an inspiration to see these men of God, faithful to their promises, who have given their time, youth, energy and everything else to God.

-priests, seminarians and laity

More pictures click here

Evangelization Joke

Sister Mary, who worked for a home health agency, was out making her rounds visiting homebound patients when she ran out of gas. As luck would have it, a gas station was just a block away.

She walked to the station to borrow a gas can and buy some gas. The attendant told her that the only gas can he owned had been lent out, but she could wait until it was returned. Since the nun was on the way to see a patient, she decided not to wait and walked back to her car. She looked for something in her car that she could fill with gas and spotted the bedpan she was taking to the patient.

Always resourceful, she carried the bedpan to the station, filled it with gas, and carried the full bedpan back to her car.

As she was pouring the gas into her tank, two men watched from across the street. One of the them turned to the other and said, "If it starts, I'm turning Catholic."

Another Poem for Jesus

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Three Seconds of Glory

Here we are: you and I, looking at each other
What a charming smile you have!
In this silence your voice sounds like the thunder
as I respond with words only you can understand.

And you love me. You just love me. You love me! You love me!
And I become sand, mud, a rose, the dew. I go crazy!
You give me three seconds of glory: with you, you let me be,
yet I know my soul in your mercy is immersing.

I just wanted to touch your hand and you gave me your heart
-now my mind cannot control my soul.
This feeling dissolves me and puts me back together, just like that!
You are the joy prayer brings to my soul.

Now I just have this fever of you, my Jesus, my all, my love.
Out of the night, out of this 28 year-old, out of a dream
you come and touch me, pat my back and give me your love
then you take me to the place where we belong.

Love is worth living for you are here
I believe in love now, my Jesus: I believe in you.
Remain with me, my beloved. Rest here,
reign in my heart, because it only beats for you.


*Please do not use without permission: byronmacias@hotmail.com

The Holy Family Shrine in Omaha, NE

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I just got back from this shrine in the outskirts of Omaha (towards Lincoln. The chapel has no walls; intead, there is cristal.

"The Chapel
As the visitors continue north, they experience the chapel facade. As high as forty-nine feet, arching members of wood, frame the stone entry structure below and within the chapel structure. The arching wood members inlaid in the facade articulate waves of grain, symbolic of the grain of the Eucharist, the bread of life, and the essence of the Catholic faith. As the visitors enter the chapel, so does the water, flowing through the church like the Holy Spirit. Two streams of water flank the entry and flow along the sides of the pews. The waters cut a stream in the limestone that forms the floor and foundation of the chapel. Set on top of this mass of limestone are wooden structural members that arch across the chapel like waves of grain. The twelve structural members represent the apostles. At the front of the chapel, the image of the Holy Family is beautifully etched into a single pane of glass sixteen feet tall."

"With an open view of the prairie and the Platte valley beyond, the image of the Holy Family appears like spirits in the heaven. The elevated altar area sits in front of the Holy Family image. An elevated slab of limestone at the altar area appears to float above a pool of water. This pool is collecting the flowing streams on either side of the pews as they flow through the chapel."


?Sitting in the chapel, the natural gifts from God surround the visitors. The prairie grasses embrace the glass walls on all sides of the chapel. The sereneness of the gentle waving of the grain places the chapel as if in a cloud. The gifts of the sun, moon, and clouds are felt as the natural light filters through the arching interlacing structure within the chapel. These interactions of the man made with the natural creations of God, call those present, to realize the "Divine providence" of God. It is here that the Holy Spirit stirs the supernatural sense of faith to seek the truth. "

Text courtesy of the Shrine's offcial website: http://www.holyfamilyshrine.com/chapel.htm



Poem for Paul, on his birthday

I met my friend Paul about 22 years ago in Riobamba, Ecuador. I still remember it: I was the new kind in school. I walked into the classroom and there was a free spot at his right hand. He befriended me no questions asked. Since then we have prayed, fought, shared many things, gotten in trouble (mostly everyday) drank, and have been there for each other. It is hard for me to write “non-religious” poetry but I challenged myself to write this ode to my best friend, my brother, who has a heart as big as the moon and a smile as wide as the sun.
Lester, this is for you…


29 years… 28 years… 22 years…

You and I grew up together like to black and white carnations.
We shared times and names that are but written in our consciousnesses.
We used to walk to school on crispy Riobamba winter mornings and come back home in buses,
Joking, looking for the next adventure: we were ready for it all.

As I remember you so clearly while flipping my phonebook’s pages:
I see the names of faces I have completely forgotten:
They were our friends, our loves and benefactors; musicians, poets and actors
-who like you and I had vanished from the face of our old town.

You and I are but two drops of water about oceans of people in the planet
But we still run through the fields and somehow we give life.
We have smoked hundreds of cigarettes and traveled here and there and fought,
Because our friendship has never taken away some of our identities.

Sometimes I gaze into the nights and then I fold them like umbrellas.
Sometimes I gaze into myself and see the adolescence years:
I walked the streets following the wind and feeling so tired,
But I never walked alone, for I had you walking along.

And you are still here. And you are there: right when friends come back to basics
You are here with a big smile, a joke and a cold beer.
You are here to show me that true friendship means more than superficialities,
You are here because I am here, appreciating you.

I know so well that this poem will not change our lives
Neither have I known why we journey through infinite searches;
What is that that moves me to follow God and you to follow love?
-So that our tomorrow will shine, for tomorrow will be good.

Live your life and you will see that you are never alone
Be on your way and you shall find the right path towards heaven.
Along the way you will hear your heart beating in peace:
You had found your true love, your real love.

Sometimes I dream of you and see you the way you were when I met you:
Big brackets, big hair, green sweater, gray pants and big innocent eyes:
That was Paul, my buddy, my best friend, my subtle advisor and my brother
Thank you for your friendship. Happy birthday.


Paul and I at Saint Joseph College Seminary. Fall 2000.
(picture courtesy of paulnaranjo.8m.com).

The Encounter -written on June 7, 2007.

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The Encounter

This is the first day of my life
I was born in an auditorium filled with people,
I was even baptized today as well
for this is the first day of my life.
Life begins when you find its meaning
-when you reach to the depth of the cave.
Life initiates when you find yourself:
I am man; I am child, I am dependent; I am loved; I am.

This is the first day of my life,
this rebirth shakes me, turns me around and wakes me up,
and the skies drop down to your feet to let you see simplicity:
Love is so simple; Love is so real,
Love has the power to make you be born again.

This is the first day of my life,
by my side: the joy that prayer can bring; the Author of my tears and laughter.
The sea calms, the roots dry at His command
and the arrows don’t touch me because You are with me.

This is the first day of my life.
What else can I ask for? What else?
I have it all and I don’t need anything more.

Actually, there is something I kind of want
I want to love in excess; I want to love too much,
to the point of dying in a cross like the Love.
Praised be Jesus now and forever, let the birds chant a song with no end.

Love the Love and He will love you even more.
I just wanted to touch his hand, and He gave me his Heart.
Now my mind cannot control my soul: you give me three seconds of glory and I find “me,”
and life makes sense, and sacrifices become responses and I am not afraid anymore.
I am Paco, and you love me my Lord.
And this is the first day of my life.

*Inspired by the love of my life: God the Father.

Happy Birthdays!

Very good friends of mine have celebrated birthdays today, July 14th:
-Shane Austin Ethridge
-Celeste Schmidt
-Mitch Brazell

May God bless you guys...

Here we are celebrating Mitch's birthday (Mitch is the very first one from the right)

Good morning!

It's about 7:15am and the sunrise is beautiful here in Omaha! Just wanted to wish you a happy day. Today is the day: fix your eye in God and He will not let you down.

Here's me studyig:


Essay on Love

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Essay on Love

Have you ever been in love? Love is the embarking on a journey of adventure towards the point in which you find your deepest desire. This desire is the source of strength and the gas for the journey. Love is not a mystery. Love is the response to a more sublime love. You need two people in order to fall in love. To really love mans to realize that you feel loved and we all are loved by God, who has given us his free gift of all.
God’s love mirrors in you and comes back to its source: the eternal flame that burns and produces more love.
In a song once I heard that “love is an innocent journey. Love is a cancer, love aint benign.” Of course! Love kills! Love kills anxiety, time, distance and bad desires.
Is love a feeling? I don’t know. All I know is that love is a reality and is more real than you and me because love still exists after we die. The above-mentioned song continues: “love is for free people like me” of course! To love someone implies to be rid of vices, intrigues, bad passions, rancor, bad strings attached, and of course the Devil. The Devil can deceive you with false love, but real love cannot come from him.
When you get married, you do it for love and the greatest expression of that love is intercourse: you are offering, giving and receiving the best of you. This love usually becomes concrete in children, the product of love. This is why abortion is bad: rejecting the fruit of love. Now, some people would offer pro-abortion or pro-choice arguments here. There is not a single reason to abort for abortion in itself is not love, regardless of the reason why the woman became pregnant. See, the thing is that we don’t stay focused on love. Even if you are raped, the child in your womb is your divine consolation and the proof of love: God is telling you: “I know what you are going through, but looks, there is a new life, a new beginning, and 9-month-old reason to love.”
Love is like ad old-fashioned pair of glasses: we kind of think twice before putting them on, but in the end they make you see well.
Love is an innocent journey.