A little over a week ago, my family returned from an intense and wonderful ten day trip to New Mexico for my beautiful sister-in-law's wedding. Although we enjoyed the trip immensely, I only in the past couple of days feel slightly normal, energized, and back to the old routine, or something like a routine of course. The first few days, my exhaustion manifested itself in an ugly attitude of frustration with every part of parenting that is unpredictable, helplessness with my lot in life as a stay at home mom, and sometimes even a bitterness in my attitude towards God for not complying with the ways I thought He should be working in my life. Throughout these struggles, I needed to keep reminding myself: all is not wrong with the world! I am just tired. What a dark outlook fatigue can cause! Thankfully I was able to sleep a little extra, and I was able to approach the Lord in prayer with renewed energy and freshness of mind. God is so faithful.
One of the things I had been frustrated about was my request that God make me better, make me a holier person. To me that means God providing something like a 12 week program to holiness, a spiritual bootcamp if you will, some kind of lesson plans or directions that I just have to follow step by step in order to become St. Therese. I kept praying that God would give me something to say yes to, and then I waited for my holiness packet to come in the mail, or something like that. When it didn't, that combined with such tiredness and a drowsy spirit led me into some confusion and slight spiritual turmoil, or maybe a little worse than slight.
If you have read my blog before, you might understand that I have a love/hate relationship with A Mother's Rule by Holly Pierlot. It is a wonderful book about order and discipline and routine in such a way that our lives are able to be more contemplative and we are more easily able to invite God into every action. I have bitterly muttered under my breath on multiple occasions that Holly Pierlot must not be a real person, or a real mom at least, or else she at least had perfectly predictable babies who napped and nursed on schedule without fail. I am sure this is not true, but it is easier to blame someone I don't know for my life problems than to blame myself, who has not even been very diligent at my own mother's rule in the first place.
As I sat and prayed one afternoon this week, listening with agitation to my baby fuss after sleeping only a half hour and hoping he would go back to sleep, I felt like the Holy Spirit was finally revealing His request to me for a "yes." Though I had wanted something steady and planned and predictable to say yes to, my own version of do it yourself "become the perfect Catholic" set with planned prayer times and daily Masses and evening prayers that don't get interrupted, He was asking me to say yes immediately and always to the immediate, to every moment Christ presents me with in the best way possible. My son cried, too early in my opinion, and he sleeps in a way that makes me feel out of control. God was asking me to say yes to that, to say yes to being out of control! To say yes to letting go of control. To say yes to giving God control and to say yes to that daily manifestation of roadblocks in my simplest of plans. This is God's holiness program for me, saying yes to what He presents to me every day.
I am not saying that I should just go with the flow and not seek to grow in diligence and routine in a way that serves my family, just as the captain of a ship does not throw out the compass and map just because he has to move around an iceberg. My goal is to keep trying to build good habits of order, while still letting the Holy Spirit lead in all of the ways that He permits my circumstances to be what I planned and in all of the ways He permits them to be different from what I expected. It goes beyond not complaining into a repeated yes, yes, yes. It's funny as I write this, because it is so familiar, something I've already known and been convicted of over and over. Thankfully God is so patient with me and willing to convict me again and again by letting me hear Him in a new way.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Thursday, August 21, 2014
What Iraq has to do with ME
Today and over the last several weeks, the Christians' situation in Iraq has been plaguing my heart. So many times I see a new article on facebook giving information and insight into the terrible happenings going on there, and I wonder how is it ok for me to sit and drink coffee with a good book for a moment during nap time? How can I celebrate the happy occasions here with food and parties? How can I laugh and enjoy life, when across the world, parents are throwing their children off of a mountain top because they believe the alternative is worse?
I am still not sure how to handle these questions, but I have come to a conclusion on some parts of it. These are our brothers and sisters. These are not people who have nothing to do with us. These are men and women and families who in the face of oppression bow before the cross, strive to love as Christ loved, carry the words of scripture on their lips, and seek the Lord's guidance for the way that they live, the way that they raise their families, and the way that they love their friends. In short, they have everything to do with us.
I don't think that we are called to depression because of what is happening over there, or because of what is happening to a part of our Church, a part of our living Body of Christ. I do think we are called to be struck by this. I think we should be shaken up. I think we should be disturbed, not in a way that drowns us in fear, but in a way that stirs us to action. What is God doing here with this situation? Shouldn't we all as Christians be asking God not why are you doing this to them--but why are you doing this to us? What do you have for me, the comfortable American sitting peacefully on the couch, watching my child play and look out the window at her relatively safe world? Jesus, what you are doing with them is not our concern. We must trust You. You are at work in their lives. You are at work in Your Church. You have not abandoned them. But me? How does this affect me?
We are so helpless in the physical sense, and because of this I am learning to pray, to intercede, to bear these people on my heart. I have nothing to give them but prayer. I have nothing to offer but the cold I have had all week, my daughter's short naps that drive me crazy, and a chaotic evening that leaves me doing dishes almost until bed time. My daily life has more meaning because through it, I am able to be conscious of prayer gifts that I can send to these suffering. The ordinary of my life becomes extraordinary, because its purpose is that much more powerful.
I am also struck with an old realization, made alive again. This is what Christianity means. We are seeing it again in our times. Once it meant being thrown into an arena with lions before a cheering crowd, now for some, it means abandoning homes and livelihoods and even life itself for the sake of the Gospel. I am shaken up, in a good way, because I need to ask myself would I do the same thing? What sacrifices am I willing to make for Jesus? To what limit would I serve Him? Are there ways to stretch myself, to say yes to Christ in a deeper more sacrificial way, that I am ignoring? They are witnessing to us to what lengths we are called. The faith they are being persecuted for is my faith.
Finally, I am encouraged, because I have been taught that the blood of the martyrs strengthens the church. Wouldn't you think we would be wiped out by now with all of the persecution we have undergone? How many martyrs and saints were the very executioners or soldiers taking part in the persecution of Christians? Hello, St. Paul! The Christian people is not weakened by what is happening. I am encouraged because they are not suffering in vain. How many saints are being added to Heaven and ready to pray for us? How much grace is there in their sacrifice? They are building up the body. I am not rejoicing in their suffering. My heart aches. I hope that this ends very soon. But I know that because of our belief in the Cross of Christ and the resurrection of the dead, the story does not end at the tip of the sword. It ends in the glory of Heaven.
My hope is that their suffering will not be in vain in their own lives or in mine. I want to grow in prayer. I want to grow in faith. I want to follow their example in whatever it means in my life. I want to let the graces pouring down from Heaven to affect me. I do not want this to just be a facebook article that I have to try to forget about so I can have a good day. This is my life. This is my faith.
Christ, please transform Your whole church through this, including me! Please deliver them, and please give them strength to say yes even when it is the most difficult!
I am still not sure how to handle these questions, but I have come to a conclusion on some parts of it. These are our brothers and sisters. These are not people who have nothing to do with us. These are men and women and families who in the face of oppression bow before the cross, strive to love as Christ loved, carry the words of scripture on their lips, and seek the Lord's guidance for the way that they live, the way that they raise their families, and the way that they love their friends. In short, they have everything to do with us.
I don't think that we are called to depression because of what is happening over there, or because of what is happening to a part of our Church, a part of our living Body of Christ. I do think we are called to be struck by this. I think we should be shaken up. I think we should be disturbed, not in a way that drowns us in fear, but in a way that stirs us to action. What is God doing here with this situation? Shouldn't we all as Christians be asking God not why are you doing this to them--but why are you doing this to us? What do you have for me, the comfortable American sitting peacefully on the couch, watching my child play and look out the window at her relatively safe world? Jesus, what you are doing with them is not our concern. We must trust You. You are at work in their lives. You are at work in Your Church. You have not abandoned them. But me? How does this affect me?
We are so helpless in the physical sense, and because of this I am learning to pray, to intercede, to bear these people on my heart. I have nothing to give them but prayer. I have nothing to offer but the cold I have had all week, my daughter's short naps that drive me crazy, and a chaotic evening that leaves me doing dishes almost until bed time. My daily life has more meaning because through it, I am able to be conscious of prayer gifts that I can send to these suffering. The ordinary of my life becomes extraordinary, because its purpose is that much more powerful.
I am also struck with an old realization, made alive again. This is what Christianity means. We are seeing it again in our times. Once it meant being thrown into an arena with lions before a cheering crowd, now for some, it means abandoning homes and livelihoods and even life itself for the sake of the Gospel. I am shaken up, in a good way, because I need to ask myself would I do the same thing? What sacrifices am I willing to make for Jesus? To what limit would I serve Him? Are there ways to stretch myself, to say yes to Christ in a deeper more sacrificial way, that I am ignoring? They are witnessing to us to what lengths we are called. The faith they are being persecuted for is my faith.
Finally, I am encouraged, because I have been taught that the blood of the martyrs strengthens the church. Wouldn't you think we would be wiped out by now with all of the persecution we have undergone? How many martyrs and saints were the very executioners or soldiers taking part in the persecution of Christians? Hello, St. Paul! The Christian people is not weakened by what is happening. I am encouraged because they are not suffering in vain. How many saints are being added to Heaven and ready to pray for us? How much grace is there in their sacrifice? They are building up the body. I am not rejoicing in their suffering. My heart aches. I hope that this ends very soon. But I know that because of our belief in the Cross of Christ and the resurrection of the dead, the story does not end at the tip of the sword. It ends in the glory of Heaven.
My hope is that their suffering will not be in vain in their own lives or in mine. I want to grow in prayer. I want to grow in faith. I want to follow their example in whatever it means in my life. I want to let the graces pouring down from Heaven to affect me. I do not want this to just be a facebook article that I have to try to forget about so I can have a good day. This is my life. This is my faith.
Christ, please transform Your whole church through this, including me! Please deliver them, and please give them strength to say yes even when it is the most difficult!
Friday, August 15, 2014
Mary our Mother
The feast of the Assumption... Death, where is your sting? Sin, where is your victory?
I have never quite understood why to celebrate this day. I know that makes me sound like a complete pagan, but it has never struck my heart as anything very important. I absolutely love the feast of the Annunciation. Mary says yes and Christ is conceived in her. For the first time ever, the Eternal God is physically present on this earth. God becomes a little tumble of cells at the mercy of His mother's body to keep Him alive and to cherish Him. And then we are invited to encounter this living God, not only spiritually, but physically as well. The mysteries of the Annunciation bring so much joy and wonder to my heart.
Other times, the great feast days of the Church are, sad to say, an excuse for me to eat more or to break a fast. St. Joseph's feast day in Lent is exciting because it is just that, a feast day. But as being a parent often challenges me to be more conscious about my behavior, dreaming of raising a good Catholic family on which these feast days are significant for more reasons than that we absolutely have to go to Mass or... what a great reason to run down the street and get Chipotle--my dreams also include relaying to my children why we are celebrating in the first place. What is taking place? Why rejoice in such a particular way today, this day that Mary assumed into Heaven? What does that have to do with us?
This morning in prayer I ended up surfing the internet for reflections on this special day, and was struck by words of Pope John Paul II saying that Mary leads the way for us into Heaven. She shows us the power of Christ's triumph. She is the first victim of God's mercy, she who was protected from even sinning in the first place, and who is first in line to experience His glory. God shows us in her what will be for us. This is good news!
I still am hungry for more knowledge about this day and for a deeper encounter with Mary and Jesus in these mysteries, but I want to share one other comforting reflection. I am probably not the only mother who often is gripped with anxiety over harm coming to my children. Of all of these things I attempt to surrender to God and His providence, the lives of my children are the most difficult. I find myself returning again and again to this breach in my relationship with Christ, because I can't seem to bring myself to trust Him with this. Lately I have had an image that brings me closer to peace when I am swamped by these fears, and it is also significant to this feast day of Our Lady. When Agnes gets hurt, she is hurt for but a moment, and I hold her in my arms until she is ok again. My love for her is what she desires the most when she has to go through pain. If I have this much love for my child, and if she is so consoled by me, so imperfect a mother, how much more, when death takes her, will Mary, the most perfect of mothers, and perfect in love, be able to hold her, to comfort her, to bring her rejoicing into beautiful Heaven. How much confidence I can have in our Mother to care for my child if I am absent?
Granted this latter reflection is probably not the one I will share with my little children around the feast day dinner table, but I will have more to share with them about death's failure to triumph, about our mother who waits for us in Heaven, about our own resurrection, and about Christ, who is the ultimate Prize, and so completely available to us always.
I have never quite understood why to celebrate this day. I know that makes me sound like a complete pagan, but it has never struck my heart as anything very important. I absolutely love the feast of the Annunciation. Mary says yes and Christ is conceived in her. For the first time ever, the Eternal God is physically present on this earth. God becomes a little tumble of cells at the mercy of His mother's body to keep Him alive and to cherish Him. And then we are invited to encounter this living God, not only spiritually, but physically as well. The mysteries of the Annunciation bring so much joy and wonder to my heart.
Other times, the great feast days of the Church are, sad to say, an excuse for me to eat more or to break a fast. St. Joseph's feast day in Lent is exciting because it is just that, a feast day. But as being a parent often challenges me to be more conscious about my behavior, dreaming of raising a good Catholic family on which these feast days are significant for more reasons than that we absolutely have to go to Mass or... what a great reason to run down the street and get Chipotle--my dreams also include relaying to my children why we are celebrating in the first place. What is taking place? Why rejoice in such a particular way today, this day that Mary assumed into Heaven? What does that have to do with us?
This morning in prayer I ended up surfing the internet for reflections on this special day, and was struck by words of Pope John Paul II saying that Mary leads the way for us into Heaven. She shows us the power of Christ's triumph. She is the first victim of God's mercy, she who was protected from even sinning in the first place, and who is first in line to experience His glory. God shows us in her what will be for us. This is good news!
I still am hungry for more knowledge about this day and for a deeper encounter with Mary and Jesus in these mysteries, but I want to share one other comforting reflection. I am probably not the only mother who often is gripped with anxiety over harm coming to my children. Of all of these things I attempt to surrender to God and His providence, the lives of my children are the most difficult. I find myself returning again and again to this breach in my relationship with Christ, because I can't seem to bring myself to trust Him with this. Lately I have had an image that brings me closer to peace when I am swamped by these fears, and it is also significant to this feast day of Our Lady. When Agnes gets hurt, she is hurt for but a moment, and I hold her in my arms until she is ok again. My love for her is what she desires the most when she has to go through pain. If I have this much love for my child, and if she is so consoled by me, so imperfect a mother, how much more, when death takes her, will Mary, the most perfect of mothers, and perfect in love, be able to hold her, to comfort her, to bring her rejoicing into beautiful Heaven. How much confidence I can have in our Mother to care for my child if I am absent?
Granted this latter reflection is probably not the one I will share with my little children around the feast day dinner table, but I will have more to share with them about death's failure to triumph, about our mother who waits for us in Heaven, about our own resurrection, and about Christ, who is the ultimate Prize, and so completely available to us always.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
I sing because I'm happy... I sing because I'm free...
I used to think I knew what it meant to be Christian. Being a Christian meant doing all of the right things. In high school, it meant obeying my parents, not lying, and not partying. In college, it meant pouring myself into my studies and into serving in the Catholic college outreach program in which I was heavily involved, and now as a wife and mother it means oh so many things! It means praying every day. It means going to daily Mass unless I have a good excuse (which is like everyday...). It means keeping the house clean all of the time. It means never having too many dishes undone. It means a perfect meal and clean kitchen when my husband walks in the door. It means packing my husband's lunch every day. It means being loving all of the time. What else does it mean? What else do I have to do to make myself feel good? And when I don't do all of these things (I don't. Only like half of them), then aren't I not as good of a woman as Sally Joe down the street? Can I really think that I had a successful day if my husband came home to a messy house? So my heart is heavily burdened so often because to me, being a Christan means being perfect. And I'm not.
Knowledge of the mind and knowledge of the heart are so different. I know that I am God's daughter. I know that my husband is more disturbed by my unhappiness and insecurity than by the inconvenience of stepping over toys to get to the kitchen. I know that my worth does not depend on what I have accomplished, but somehow, my heart misses these important truths and I continue to dig myself into holes of despair that take begging Clayton for more reassurance, hours of alone time, and eating ice-cream to get myself out of. That is not what Christianity is supposed to be, and that is not God's call for my life. Absolutely not.
Throughout my two and a half years of marriage, it seems as though God is chipping away at the blinding pride that held me up for so long, as long as I was doing the right thing. Now as a wife and mother, that pride continues to shrivel. Domesticity does not come naturally to me, and I sometimes want to scream at God for putting me in a position to fail. When I, as a philosophy and English major, am good at other things, like contemplating the meaning of the universe or writing about what Steinbeck was saying in The Grapes of Wrath, I wonder why can't I just do that? (I am not saying I'd rather do that than take care of my family! I am only saying it would make me feel good about myself!). God has brought me low, and it seems like I am understanding, finally, at least beginning to understand, what it really means to be a Christian. The head knowledge of salvation is working its way more deeply into my heart.
I don't think that being a Christian means doing all of the right things. I think we do the right things because we are Christian. Being a Christian means freedom. I have recently had Audrey Assad's words "I sing because I'm happy. I sing because I'm free" in my head and on my tongue often throughout the day. I sing because I'm happy. I sing because I'm free. Christ has set us free. Our worth and our happiness do not come from having it together. Of course we need to do our best with the vocation He has called us to, but that's it. God has me here, in this day, in this hour, with all of the tasks and habits I have done well and all that I need to grow in. His mercy is here. His freedom is now. All I have to do is get up off this comfy chair, sing, rejoice, and fold the laundry, and vacuum, and take care of the baby, and get lunch ready, and then do the dishes, and... rejoice!
Knowledge of the mind and knowledge of the heart are so different. I know that I am God's daughter. I know that my husband is more disturbed by my unhappiness and insecurity than by the inconvenience of stepping over toys to get to the kitchen. I know that my worth does not depend on what I have accomplished, but somehow, my heart misses these important truths and I continue to dig myself into holes of despair that take begging Clayton for more reassurance, hours of alone time, and eating ice-cream to get myself out of. That is not what Christianity is supposed to be, and that is not God's call for my life. Absolutely not.
Throughout my two and a half years of marriage, it seems as though God is chipping away at the blinding pride that held me up for so long, as long as I was doing the right thing. Now as a wife and mother, that pride continues to shrivel. Domesticity does not come naturally to me, and I sometimes want to scream at God for putting me in a position to fail. When I, as a philosophy and English major, am good at other things, like contemplating the meaning of the universe or writing about what Steinbeck was saying in The Grapes of Wrath, I wonder why can't I just do that? (I am not saying I'd rather do that than take care of my family! I am only saying it would make me feel good about myself!). God has brought me low, and it seems like I am understanding, finally, at least beginning to understand, what it really means to be a Christian. The head knowledge of salvation is working its way more deeply into my heart.
I don't think that being a Christian means doing all of the right things. I think we do the right things because we are Christian. Being a Christian means freedom. I have recently had Audrey Assad's words "I sing because I'm happy. I sing because I'm free" in my head and on my tongue often throughout the day. I sing because I'm happy. I sing because I'm free. Christ has set us free. Our worth and our happiness do not come from having it together. Of course we need to do our best with the vocation He has called us to, but that's it. God has me here, in this day, in this hour, with all of the tasks and habits I have done well and all that I need to grow in. His mercy is here. His freedom is now. All I have to do is get up off this comfy chair, sing, rejoice, and fold the laundry, and vacuum, and take care of the baby, and get lunch ready, and then do the dishes, and... rejoice!
Monday, July 14, 2014
Trust
My husband keeps reminding me how many days it has been since I have written a blog post, to which I have politely ignored him, not knowing how to explain why I haven't written. So much has been happening to me in the past week and a half, not so much outward circumstances, though we had my precious son's baptism, family to visit, a holiday to spend, and then just plain old life--but internally, God has been doing something new and different, teaching me old news in new ways, and I feel like I am finally beginning to understand what He has been trying to tell me for years. I guess you could sum it all up in two words: "Trust Jesus."
The most significant change has been my meditation and obedience, or at least increase in obedience, to Philipians 4:6: "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God." My last post was about a day in which I basically didn't do this. I spiraled out of control until I was left angry with God for abandoning me. The next day was different. I don't remember why exactly such a change overcame me, besides the Holy Spirit of course, but why I responded to Him differently. Instead of letting the anxiety of ordinary situations have control over me, I brought each situation to the Lord. The day did not go better, but I went better through my day. Since then I have been experiencing so many new graces for surrender.
My life is not full of huge challenges, and my trials are not always obvious to an onlooker, but I believe that that is often why I tend to gloss over so many Bible verses. Oh of course, bring your petitions to God. Help us to be safe. Help us to have enough money. Help me get through pregnancy and mothering a tiny baby... All of the big things. What about the small things that drive me crazy every day? The questions that I ask myself and do not know how to handle? I have been irritated countless times with Agnes waking up too early, and I respond so negatively, because I don't know why and I wonder and I am afraid that she will keep doing that. Bring that to the Lord. God, give me the grace for less alone time--help me to trust that Agnes will get the sleep that she needs, and I will get the restoration I need that did not happen with that short nap break. Clayton is helping someone with something again, at a time when our time together has been limited? Of course I am happy for him to be serving. God, I trust that You will provide the unity in our relationship that I thought needed to come from that hour.
I am in no way Joyful Jill now where everyone can see that I clearly have given God control in my life and have no more anxieties, but I am in the process of becoming more fully who God intends, everyday offering Him my fears and failures and weaknesses and disappointments. I feel like I am understanding more fully what it means to be saved by God and to live in His mercy. I am so far from complete surrender, but how good those moments of trust and surrender have been!
The most significant change has been my meditation and obedience, or at least increase in obedience, to Philipians 4:6: "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God." My last post was about a day in which I basically didn't do this. I spiraled out of control until I was left angry with God for abandoning me. The next day was different. I don't remember why exactly such a change overcame me, besides the Holy Spirit of course, but why I responded to Him differently. Instead of letting the anxiety of ordinary situations have control over me, I brought each situation to the Lord. The day did not go better, but I went better through my day. Since then I have been experiencing so many new graces for surrender.
My life is not full of huge challenges, and my trials are not always obvious to an onlooker, but I believe that that is often why I tend to gloss over so many Bible verses. Oh of course, bring your petitions to God. Help us to be safe. Help us to have enough money. Help me get through pregnancy and mothering a tiny baby... All of the big things. What about the small things that drive me crazy every day? The questions that I ask myself and do not know how to handle? I have been irritated countless times with Agnes waking up too early, and I respond so negatively, because I don't know why and I wonder and I am afraid that she will keep doing that. Bring that to the Lord. God, give me the grace for less alone time--help me to trust that Agnes will get the sleep that she needs, and I will get the restoration I need that did not happen with that short nap break. Clayton is helping someone with something again, at a time when our time together has been limited? Of course I am happy for him to be serving. God, I trust that You will provide the unity in our relationship that I thought needed to come from that hour.
I am in no way Joyful Jill now where everyone can see that I clearly have given God control in my life and have no more anxieties, but I am in the process of becoming more fully who God intends, everyday offering Him my fears and failures and weaknesses and disappointments. I feel like I am understanding more fully what it means to be saved by God and to live in His mercy. I am so far from complete surrender, but how good those moments of trust and surrender have been!
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Hanging on
I wanted to write today about how great God is, how wonderful His works, about the thunderstorm I watched outside with my husband last night, about the power of music to lift our hearts to Him, and about the Creator of sunsets, but that is not what is on my heart today. God is good, but today is one of those days you could call a faith survival day, a day that I can be relieved that I made it through without giving up on God, though I could not hear Him through my two children screaming through a traffic jam and my anxieties drowning out His voice.
The day has gone terribly wrong, and short of a tragedy, it has been one of the most difficult days, a day that at no moment I felt equipped to handle. I woke an hour and a half late and finally headed for a previously planned trip to the zoo with friends with no prayer, no exercise, and no breakfast. I broke an eating out fast as we stopped at Mcdonald's and I gave my daughter a hash brown, a nutritious breakfast of potatoes and oily fats that are probably illegal in most countries. The way home from the zoo, to put it concisely, was full of kicking, screaming, crying, traffic, and hunger. When I had finally gotten Edmund fed and Agnes in bed, Edmund began his habit of needing constant attention and the use of at least one of my hands, a habit which I thought he had broken (maybe only when Clayton is home!).
I do not feel so hopeful (in spite of a wonderful break as Edmund gave a brief cooing and smiling session) but there is so much to be thankful for. These are the days when faith has meaning, a day like Holy Saturday, when any follower of Christ has to wonder what can God possibly be up to? It is a day that I don't have to understand why when at my complete whit's end, I sit down to nurse, finally a moment of quiet, and my phone alarm starts going off across the room. None of these things are a big deal when put in perspective, but putting things in perspective sometimes requires to be outside of the complete immersion in chaos and inconvenience. When "God provides" seems to mean God provides another situation to provoke me, all I can do is continue to pray and wait it out. I know God will see me through these small daily difficulties that seem too great for me to handle.
"A patient man need stand firm but for a time, then contentment comes back to him." Sirach something
The day has gone terribly wrong, and short of a tragedy, it has been one of the most difficult days, a day that at no moment I felt equipped to handle. I woke an hour and a half late and finally headed for a previously planned trip to the zoo with friends with no prayer, no exercise, and no breakfast. I broke an eating out fast as we stopped at Mcdonald's and I gave my daughter a hash brown, a nutritious breakfast of potatoes and oily fats that are probably illegal in most countries. The way home from the zoo, to put it concisely, was full of kicking, screaming, crying, traffic, and hunger. When I had finally gotten Edmund fed and Agnes in bed, Edmund began his habit of needing constant attention and the use of at least one of my hands, a habit which I thought he had broken (maybe only when Clayton is home!).
I do not feel so hopeful (in spite of a wonderful break as Edmund gave a brief cooing and smiling session) but there is so much to be thankful for. These are the days when faith has meaning, a day like Holy Saturday, when any follower of Christ has to wonder what can God possibly be up to? It is a day that I don't have to understand why when at my complete whit's end, I sit down to nurse, finally a moment of quiet, and my phone alarm starts going off across the room. None of these things are a big deal when put in perspective, but putting things in perspective sometimes requires to be outside of the complete immersion in chaos and inconvenience. When "God provides" seems to mean God provides another situation to provoke me, all I can do is continue to pray and wait it out. I know God will see me through these small daily difficulties that seem too great for me to handle.
"A patient man need stand firm but for a time, then contentment comes back to him." Sirach something
Monday, June 30, 2014
Desire
I have lost some of the enthusiasm that drove me to create an entire, new prayer schedule, and also somewhat more of a daily routine. I worked on it over the weekend, talked to my husband about it last night, and launched the project, or at least the rough draft of it, today. Even before the day began, as I spoke with my husband last night, I experienced some inner trepidation and questioning... why am I doing this again? What actually needs to change? Aren't we already doing ok? Aren't I? Why do I want to make more sacrifices or commitments?
Of course I might look back and tweak my goals a bit, or I might toss out the new prayer routine altogether if it is not good for our family, but for now, the reason I came up with it, was because I thought that it would be good, and I cannot let it go until I have seen whether or not it is--and, I cannot see whether or not it is good until I practice it faithfully to see what it brings.
I didn't start this new challenge because I am feeling so much love for God and so much hunger for Him that I wanted desperately to be allowed to pray more. Far from it. God and I have been wrestling, like Jacob and the angel, for several weeks now, throughout late night feedings, late night awakenings of the baby that aren't even feedings, and many moments of a crying baby throughout the day where I feel at a loss with what even to do. Even before the baby, I cannot say that I had been having any urges to fall on my knees in prayerful adoration or to lift my hands to my Maker.
So often I do not even feel desire for God, but I am convinced with all of my heart that He is desirable. He is the Maker of all that is good. He is my Provider and Sustainer. I have experienced His help and joy in my life. I know that we are made for Him, and that we find our complete happiness in Him. I believe all of this. St. Thomas Aquinas wrote a miraculous summary of theology. Who understood God and His mysteries better than this holy genius? He had a prayerful experience with God, as Jesus told him that he had written well of Him and asked him what he would have for his reward. Now I can think of a lot of things that I would want as a reward if Jesus asked me... but St. Thomas wanted only one thing: "Only Thyself, Lord." Who is this God he desired so ardently? I want to know. I want to know Him more, and not only what I have already experienced of Him.
My mom was telling me a story of St. Therese that I had heard previously, but still appreciated hearing again. One of St. Therese's older sisters was giving away a basket of her old things to Therese and another sister. The other sister picked carefully through the basket to pick out a couple of objects. Therese did not pick through it, but grabbed the entire contents and said that she wanted it all. This was the same spirit with which she pursued Christ and allowed herself to receive all that He had to give her. I want all. I hope for all. I do not want to miss all of the plans and good gifts that my Father has to give me.
Even if my heart does not feel aflame, I know that its deepest thirst and most desperate hope is for Christ, and not just for a little bit or for me to be a little bit given to Him, but for me to be completely consumed by Him and for me to receive Him completely. This isn't going to happen with fireworks and boom bands playing but with simple and faithful obedience.
Of course I might look back and tweak my goals a bit, or I might toss out the new prayer routine altogether if it is not good for our family, but for now, the reason I came up with it, was because I thought that it would be good, and I cannot let it go until I have seen whether or not it is--and, I cannot see whether or not it is good until I practice it faithfully to see what it brings.
I didn't start this new challenge because I am feeling so much love for God and so much hunger for Him that I wanted desperately to be allowed to pray more. Far from it. God and I have been wrestling, like Jacob and the angel, for several weeks now, throughout late night feedings, late night awakenings of the baby that aren't even feedings, and many moments of a crying baby throughout the day where I feel at a loss with what even to do. Even before the baby, I cannot say that I had been having any urges to fall on my knees in prayerful adoration or to lift my hands to my Maker.
So often I do not even feel desire for God, but I am convinced with all of my heart that He is desirable. He is the Maker of all that is good. He is my Provider and Sustainer. I have experienced His help and joy in my life. I know that we are made for Him, and that we find our complete happiness in Him. I believe all of this. St. Thomas Aquinas wrote a miraculous summary of theology. Who understood God and His mysteries better than this holy genius? He had a prayerful experience with God, as Jesus told him that he had written well of Him and asked him what he would have for his reward. Now I can think of a lot of things that I would want as a reward if Jesus asked me... but St. Thomas wanted only one thing: "Only Thyself, Lord." Who is this God he desired so ardently? I want to know. I want to know Him more, and not only what I have already experienced of Him.
My mom was telling me a story of St. Therese that I had heard previously, but still appreciated hearing again. One of St. Therese's older sisters was giving away a basket of her old things to Therese and another sister. The other sister picked carefully through the basket to pick out a couple of objects. Therese did not pick through it, but grabbed the entire contents and said that she wanted it all. This was the same spirit with which she pursued Christ and allowed herself to receive all that He had to give her. I want all. I hope for all. I do not want to miss all of the plans and good gifts that my Father has to give me.
Even if my heart does not feel aflame, I know that its deepest thirst and most desperate hope is for Christ, and not just for a little bit or for me to be a little bit given to Him, but for me to be completely consumed by Him and for me to receive Him completely. This isn't going to happen with fireworks and boom bands playing but with simple and faithful obedience.
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