The Infinite In-Between (take two)

We had both been looking for this:  a break from the mundane and drama-filled ball of stress we call life.  So two old friends embarked on a weekend encounter hoping to find refreshment for our thirsty souls.

The Spirit moved within us and we experienced God, were reminded of His Presence in our everyday lives, were filled with renewed vigor to live our lives for Him.  We reunited with old friends and shared two day of peace.  It was all we were given, and we soaked in every last drop.

Then came Monday.

We faced it stretching and yawning, renewed and prepared to face anything.  It was a good thing too, because I walked into a storm.

My professional life exploded (in a good, but rather challenging way), and with it came the reality of planning the simplest, lowest-key wedding possible while trying to avoid any and all things that have to do with the words:  Pinterest, bridal showers, monograms, and wedding registries.

The pressure keeps mounting and in all the chaos and noise I find that I'm not praying.  And when I try, I find that I can't.  

How can my Lord feel so near one day, then so far the next?  Because love is not about feeling.  Love is a choice.

It's the choice to wake up every day and dance in the rain and laugh with the thunder, even though I'd rather stay curled up in bed eating brownies and watching Disney movies.

It's the choice to be grateful when I'd rather be begrudging.

It's the choice to keep moving even as the tears flow freely.

And I seem to be caught perpetually in this infinite in-between:  dragged down by stress and fear, but wanting to keep walking on toward the light.  We are pilgrim souls, weak and imperfect, but redeemed.

I am Peter walking on water, and as soon as I look down at my own feet, I begin to sink.  My feet may fail, but Christ will not.  If only I could keep my eyes, my trust, my hope, my reason for being on Christ. . .

And that's become my prayer.  No words are needed, just a glance toward heaven and I know: 

I am Yours, and You are mine.

Seasoned

For a little while in college, I had a strong desire to move to California.  I had a lot of friends from the southern part of the Sunshine State who told me of their magical land where it is sunny and in the mid-60's year round.  Being from Ohio, I'd grown up hearing "If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes."  I had waited twenty-something years and still didn't like the weather.  One miserable winter day, I told my mom about my California dream.

Her response:  "People who live without seasons don't live in reality."  I love my mother, but she is a murderer of dreams. (Or resurrect-er of Truth, as she prefers it.)

In any case, per the norm, she was right in a way.  Obviously people who live in California and other parts of the world that have perpetually glorious weather face reality in their own ways, but it's different for those of us who experience all the seasons.

Not only do we face all four seasons, but sometimes we face them all in one week.  It could be 80 degrees and muggy in the morning and 50-something and wet by mid afternoon.  It could be 75 and sunny one day, and snowing the next.  There are tornadoes and floods and blizzards and ice storms and weeks of seemingly endless rain.  Yes, it's miserably unpredictable.  Yes, the pollen might kill you.  Yes, the humidity will negate any and all products you have used in your hair.  But this is reality.

November snow.

The reality is that life happens, just like weather happens, and sometimes it's out of our control.  We are weathered and worn, and no one makes it out alive.  But without the storms, we wouldn't recognize the sunshine.  The bitter cold winds of winter make the muggy 90 degree days feel like a welcome warm hug.  We learn that tornado and flood warnings usually only mean breezy thunderstorms and big puddles.  Partly cloudy means the sky will likely be a gray canvas of claustrophobic misery for the next two or three days, but when the sun finally does shine again, we will appreciate it that much more.

I've heard that in order to learn how to accept God's will for our lives, we should first learn to accept the weather.  That's QUITE the challenge in the Ohio valley, but I'm learning.  I'm beginning to realize that rather than be bitter toward the ever-changing climate, I should learn from it.  It makes me stronger.  It keeps me on my toes.  It makes life interesting and spicy.

Today as I walked out to my car to go to work in the early morning darkness, I shivered for the first morning in more than a week. I gave the sky the stink-eye and said, "Really?  I was really enjoying those muggy, 80 degree hugs!  Are we back to this already?!"  Then I sighed and shrugged, because it doesn't really matter.

Even if I can't see the sun, I know that it is still shining above the clouds.  Whatever the weather, God is still Good.  He is the Author of all life, and He made life to be full of seasons:  growth, death, purification, and rebirth.

The really good news?  He makes all things NEW.

The Knot

It's the twisted darkness that swirls around inside, the walls we've built to keep others out, the voices that tell us we aren't good enough, pretty enough, strong enough, the selfishness that keeps us from noticing our suffering neighbor, the grudges we hold, our unwillingness to forgive and try to understand, our certainty that our way is the right way.

This darkness twists around inside us until it is a great big knot of evil that causes pain and suffering for us and those around us.

Sometimes the more we try to undo our own knots, the tighter they become.  The fact is, we can't do it on our own.  We need grace.

The good news is that there is always help available to those who seek it.  And in fact, there happens to be a special devotion to Mary, Undoer of Knots.  If you or someone you know is struggling with a particular knot or a particular mess of darkness in their life, Mary, Undoer of Knots is the one you want to talk to. 

Conveniently, a novena to her begins tomorrow!  You can subscribe to the prayers and join thousands of others at Pray More Novenas.  Or, if you aren't a novena type of person but you could use some grace, simply pray "Mary, Undoer of Knots, pray for me."  And she will.  You can count on that.  You can always count on Our Lady.

The Haunting, Wistful Fragrance of Violets

In honor of Mary, I wanted to share these powerful words on the subject of womanhood from the character of author Catherine Marshall in the film A Man Called Peter. These words are from the 1950s so they may sound dated, but they are still relevant:

I never thought much about being a girl until two years ago when I learned from a man what a wonderful thing it is to be a woman. Until that Sunday morning, I considered myself lucky to be living in the 20th century; the century of progress and emancipation; the century when, supposedly, we women came into our own. But I’d forgotten that the emancipation of women really began with Christianity. 

A very young girl received the greatest honor in history. She was chosen to be the mother of the savior of the world. And when her son grew up and began to teach his way of life, he ushered women into a new place in human relations. He accorded her a dignity she had never known before and crowned her with such glory that down through the ages she was revered, protected and loved. Men wanted to think of her as different from themselves, better, made of finer, more delicate clay. It remained for the 20th century, the century of progress, to pull her down from her throne. 

She wanted equality. For 1900 years, she had not been equal. She had been superior [emphasis hers]. To stand equally with men, naturally she had to step down. Now, being equal with men, she has won all their rights and privileges; the right to get drunk, the right to swear, the right to smoke, the right to work like a man, to think like a man, to act like a man. We’ve won all this, but ought we to feel so triumphant when men no longer feel as romantic about us as they did about our grandmothers; when we’ve lost something sweet and mysterious; something as hard to describe as the haunting, wistful fragrance of violets?Of course, these aren’t my original thoughts. They are the thoughts I heard that Sunday morning. But somehow, some thoughts of my own were born and the conclusion reached that somewhere along the line, we women got off the track.

Poets have become immortal by remembering on paper a girl’s smile. But I’ve never read a poem rhapsodizing over a girl’s giggles at a smutty joke or I’ve never heard a man brag that his sweet heart or his wife could drink just as much as he and become just as intoxicated. I’ve never heard a man say that a girl’s mouth was prettier with a cigarette hanging out of it or that her hair smelled divinely of stale tobacco.

May: The Month of Mary

Yes, we Catholics have a whole month devoted to Mary.  Not devoted to worshiping her, but devoted to seeking her intercession and learning how to be more like her. We entrust ourselves to her care.  Why?  Many reasons, but to put it simply:  because God entrusted Himself to her.  This woman was pure and sinless, a humble Jewish woman who trusted God with her whole life, body and soul.  She carried the Son of God inside herself, gave birth to Him, raised Him.  Then she felt a sword pierce her immaculate heart as she watched her perfect, sinless boy suffer under the crushing weight of our sins.  While He was on the cross, He offered her to us:  "Behold, your mother." (John 19:27)  He gives her to his beloved disciple (HINT:  that's YOU).  We would be fools not to accept her motherly love and guidance.  After all, if we want to be like Jesus, shouldn't we entrust ourselves to the same motherly love and guidance He had while on earth?  I mean, I think so.

If you aren't convinced (okay, even if you are), check out  Father Michael Gaitley, MIC's 33 Days to Morning Glory:  A Do-It-Yourself Retreat in Preparation for Marian Consecration.  The book contains thoughts and reflections of Mary by Saints Louis de Montfort, John Paul II, and Maximilian Kolbe as well as Blessed Mother Teresa.  Insightful and inspiring, it's a great explanation of how Mary helps us grow closer to her Son.

If you're looking for a shorter, simpler way to grow closer to Mary, try the 31 Days of Mary.  I don't remember how or when or where, but at some point while I was at school, I stumbled on this gem of a devotion for the month of Mary.  For each day of the month of May, there is a virtue of Mary and a little blurb for reflection.  It's a simple way to meditate on Mary each day during the month we devote to her.  I've searched online and can't find the source of this simple prayer, so, hoping that I'm not infringing on anyone's rights, I typed it up, made a few adjustments, and posted it on this blog in the right hand column under "Pages."

May it bring you closer to Our Lady and Our Lord!

Easter Rising

When I was reminded a few weeks ago that Lent was coming up, I groaned dismally.  I believed that trudging through this insufferable and eternal winter was quite enough penance for one year, thank you. The constant frigid temperatures and never-ending snowfall have made this winter bitter.

Lent and those 40 days of hearing that awful song "Ashes" sung at church simply didn't appeal to me.  And the thought of offering up any sort of sacrifice for another 40 days was absurd.  Haven't we all given enough?  Hasn't winter sucked us dry?

It seems everyone has been having a tough time of it, having emotional and mental meltdowns in the face of this interminable deep freeze.  I have felt the crushing weight of the weather while struggling with a spiritual dryness and trying to make some real changes in my life, but change isn't happening fast enough for me.

I've come to realize though, after several of my own meltdowns and encouragement from the loving support I am so thankful to have, that I am doing all that I can do to make changes in my life.  That, while life appears to be at a standstill, God still has more for me to learn where I am.  It doesn't mean changes aren't coming, but that they need to come from within first.

I looked back at my attitude in the last few months and I saw that the bitter cold inside me was much more damaging than the cold outside.  I've begun to change my attitude, to attempt to see everything as a gift, to attempt to move outside of my self and to really and truly see and love others.  It's hard, but I'm trying.  And I'm not foolish enough to try on my own--I'm seeking grace.

It's funny, in all these years I've been on my spiritual journey, I've never had such a strong desire to change.  I think that has to do with the winter, because I am so desperately in need of springtime outside, I can feel that desire for Easter flooding my veins.  Even as I go about my day at work and I am confronted with a particular problem, I pray for grace and I feel that Easter light rising within me.  It doesn't last long, but it's there, I can taste it.  Even though I fail five minutes later and give in to sin, I know that I'm on my way, supported by His love and mercy.  I can taste the hope that Christ is coming, and that His Rising will be so very sweet.

So to all of you who may be struggling with this endlessly bitter winter, I pray that you find the love of God abiding within you, and welcome Him with joy and peace.

Hope for Humanity

I discovered a few months back a story about a normal guy my age-ish doing something simple, artistic, and beautiful:  taking pictures of people in New York City and putting them up on a blog and other social media sites.

As I looked at these photos and read their captions, I found myself laughing, crying, relating to, and wondering about these people.  Some looked like they could be my friends, some made me slightly uncomfortable, some made me intensely curious.  They showcased the colorful spectrum of humanity in one of the biggest cities in the world.

Brandon Stanton set out merely to create a photographic census of New York City with Humans of New York (HONY).  As he started photographing people though, he started talking to them, and actually taking the time to make connections and get to know them.  Now he adds stories and captions to the photos to give us a further glimpse into the lives behind the faces.

I can't get enough of it.  Not because it's a form of speculation or entertainment, but because it offers a glimpse into the heart of humanity.  I've never been to New York, but I see in these faces the faces of my customers, my co-workers, my family and friends, my self, my God.

Brandon's photographs capture simple moments of beauty that the average pedestrian probably wouldn't notice.  They display the beauty of creation and the beauty of man's interpretation of creation.  Some photos and stories raise controversial questions, but that's not the point of the project.  The point is to present truth and beauty, to present raw humanity in all of its beautiful imperfections.

HONY reminds me of God's unfailing love and incredible imagination, and for that, I am grateful.

I am reminded too that for those of us struggling to figure out life after college in a lousy job market, we can still make a difference simply by doing what we love.  It doesn't have to be big or complex.  Simple and beautiful is all it takes, and great things can come from that.