Covering My Head

I've recently begun to wear a head covering to Mass.  I already did this for times I spent in Eucharistic Adoration, and occasionally for prayer - the chapel veil helps me to keep focus.  Kind of like blinders on a horse, the veil allows me to focus "straight ahead" and not let distractions bother me.  I do not wear a chapel veil for the Mass, though, just a small expandable head band.  Perhaps one day I'll have the courage to wear the veil, but as it is now the small covering is all I manage.  Even in wearing this, I notice some of the more progressive (mostly women) people of this already progressive parish looking askance at me, and some even avoid eye-contact with me. 

I am the reader for Christmas - will I wear a head covering when I read?  I'm not sure yet.  I am praying about it.  What is my motivation?  Why do I want to wear something on my head?  In one way I am trying to lead by example - lead people "back" to a more traditional/orthodox expression of the Faith.  But on the other hand, I am doing it because it helps me and reminds me where I am and in whose presence I am sitting.  Do I have to wear a head covering to remember this?  No, but it helps - and most weeks I need all the help I can get!

Merry Christmas!   

Why?

He has drawn me closer and closer to Him,

Encouraging my independence from creatures

And my dependence upon the Creator.

He has pulled me further and further in,

Showing me His hand, gentle and strong,

Inviting me to rest within His embrace.

He has called me and helped me to answer,

Not leaving me on my own but always staying with me

Carrying me just as I take a step forward,

Gracing me with strength, courage, wisdom.

He has shown me that I have nothing, am nothing,

Yet am full of all that He is,

Full of all that He has given me.

So why do these tears haunt me?

Why do these questions weigh down my heart?

Why can I not just take what He offers,

Giving myself completely to Him,

Knowing that when I do,

He will give everything to me?

"I Have Sent Your Children to Heal You" (with minor changes)

I don't know how a parent recovers from the loss of a child.  We, parents, are supposed to die first - it is the "natural order".  It is expected that our children will live long, healthy lives years beyond our own.  A parent shouldn't attend their own child's funeral.  These are some of the thoughts that have gone through my mind in the days after the shooting in Newtown, CT.  My heart is broken over this tragedy.  I have found myself in tears, feeling sadness - yes, for the children, their parents, the adults killed, their families, the shooter, his family, the town, etc...  But also for something far deeper and bigger - what is going on with this world we live in?  I have asked this question so many times over the past several months.  I have been thinking of death a lot, and am working on an article which has required me to think of death, hope, faith, suffering....  There are days it is too much and I just want to curl up in a corner and cry.

I must be careful and aware of my internal emotional state.  I tend toward depression and despair, so when things begin feeling "normal" I have to stop and take stock.  It seems my default setting is depression since I have suffered from this illness since my youth.  It is said this can be hereditary, but I wonder how much is nature vs. nurture since both my parents self-medicated with alcohol and though never "diagnosed" with any mental illness, it is quite evident to me that we as a family suffered from one or more psychological conditions.  When a child is brought up in a situation like this, it is "normal" and so any other state seems abnormal.  Is this caused by genetics or is it just a reflection of the environment to which one is exposed - or a combination of both?

It is only in the past three years that I have risen out of the grip of depression.  As I made my way back to Christ, as I re-found my true Father in God, I began to feel a strange sensation:  Hope.  What a wonder hope is!  Hope was not something I remember having much of as I was growing up.  But as long as I can keep my eyes focused on the Cross I can fairly easily find "hope" and that seems for me the key to maintaining a grip on the joy that we are all meant to possess.

But there are times when this hope escapes me - I try to keep my eyes on the Lord but just can't seem to gather the courage - like the past few days.  It all seems so senseless - and it makes me think of the research I have been doing for my article.  This tragedy sends my mind thinking of abortion and physician-assisted suicide.  I am left wondering, praying, doubting, seeking, grasping....

There are logical and rational and practical considerations, but right now they are all out the window.  The idealist in me is devastated.  And I am reminded of something which came to me a couple of years ago in prayer: "I have sent your children to heal you."  This was a personal message for me, and it has personal implications and meanings, but as I have thought and felt and cried my way through the news of this tragedy, this "message" returned to my thoughts and I began to wonder --  what are we to do if we are killing our children?  How shall we ever be healed?  How deep is the evil ingrained in us when we turn on our own children? Our future? This pain I feel is the same pain I have felt when considering the numbers of children who have been killed by their own mothers - the pain I have felt when trying to gather people together for pro-life prayers, and none have come - the pain I have felt wondering what this world is coming to if we cannot protect and cherish and love the most precious and innocent life there is.  It is a pain I am unable to bear on my own - a pain which runs deep - a pain which threatens to engulf me.  A pain which can only be mitigated through prayer, and a practice of and trust in Faith...Hope...and Love.

Now for something completely different....

Ever wondered what I do in my spare time?  Didn't think so, but here is a picture of something I've been working on most of my life...one day I'll be able to grab my foot, right?  :-)

Excerpt from Psalm 51 (Knox translation, 50)

Have mercy on me, O God,
as thou art ever rich in mercy;
in the abundance of thy compassion,
blot out the record of my misdeeds.
Wash me clean,
cleaner yet, from my guilt,
purge me of my sin,
the guilt which I freely acknowledge,
the sin which is never lost to my sight.
Thee only have my sins offended;
it is thy will I have disobeyed;
thy sentence was deserved,
and still when thou givest award thou hast right on thy side.
For indeed, I was born in sin;
guilt was with me already when my mother conceived me.
But thou art a lover of faithfulness,
and now, deep in my heart,
thy wisdom has instructed me.
Sprinkle me with a wand of hyssop,
and I shall be clean;
washed, I shall be whiter than snow;
tidings send me of good news and rejoicing,
and the body that lies in the dust shall thrill with pride.


Purify me, O Lord - create a clean heart in me.  Renew a steadfast spirit in me. 
This is my prayer.  This is my desire: to be with the Lord for all eternity.

The Art of the Heavy Rosary

I don't usually come down with illness very often, but when I do I get pretty sick.  So nearly two weeks ago when I began to feel poorly, knowing I had to go off-island to get my windshield-wipers fixed (it is a requirement to have working wipers in the Pacific NW during the rainy season), I just buckled down and focused on getting through whatever I needed to get through.  Well by the time I got back home, I was down for the count for a few days.  Then last Tuesday I suddenly felt better, but remained tired.  I'm still easily fatigued, physically and emotionally, hoping that this will pass soon and I can get back to my usual crazy schedule. 

My prayer life has suffered these past two weeks, and I am easily distracted, unfocused and don't "feel God's Presence" (sorry, I had to :-)!!).  But what I do "feel" is only what I can describe as a heavy weight and sadness that I somehow know is not my own.  I didn't realize it until this morning, since my usual routine is to pray for specific people and their intentions during my Rosary - but for the past few days as I have sat and asked/thought/prayed for what or whom I should pray, what has come to mind is not a single person or a single problem.  What has come to mind is the totality of the world and its slow loss of knowing what is True and right and good - the loss of Faith - the loss of Joy.  I have no idea how to pray for all of this, have difficulty verbalizing what it is I feel, so I just sit and let the heaviness that I feel descend to the Rosary in my hands.  On my own I cannot take this weight, but these small beads, this fragile chain, can.  But it sure makes for a heavy Rosary!! 

I am reminded of Romans 8:26-27  "In the same way, the Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings.  And the one who searches hearts knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because it intercedes for the holy ones according to God's will." 

I am also reminded of last May when I attempted to gather people together for group praying of the Rosary, and no one showed up (throughout the month, only 1 person came - once).  I sat there that first morning, weeping, and all I could think to do was apologize to Mary and Jesus for the "lack of"...could no one spare 30 minutes to pray?  The feeling I have now is quite similar to the one I had then.  It is what it is.  And all I can do is continue to pray and keep my focus on our Lord and the Cross.  Even though many days it is quite challenging, and that cross is difficult to pick up in its heaviness - though once I remember to look at Jesus, it becomes lighter and easier to carry...I just wish I could remember to look up more often! 

Year of Faith Cont: Make Sunday Mass a Priority

Now that I'm feeling mostly better, I shall continue my comments on Fr P's three suggestions for this Year of Faith.  And it is one with which I agree:  make Sunday Mass a priority.  I do.  The first thing I do when planning a trip that involves a Sunday is to check around for Catholic Churches...and if my older son is with me (or if he is on a trip with his Dad), I am then increasing the level of difficulty by needing to find a Mass with confession prior.  Why is that so hard to find?  Very few parishes offer this.  The last time my son was off without me, I made arrangements for him to have confession before Mass.  I think most priests will accommodate this if asked, but I wonder how many people will actually ask?  But Sunday Mass -yes!  Make it a priority.  It should be the first thing for that day - all other activities must take second fiddle to the one primary "activity" for Sunday (or Saturday anticipatory).  Our island parish only offers one Mass each Sunday, at 1pm.  Many people complain it is inconvenient - so they don't come.  All I have to say to that is then it must not be very important to them - then I suppose the next question is how do we make it important to them?  How do we get people to understand WHY God should be first in their lives?  How do we get people to look at us, look at us knowing we are Catholic, and have them wonder what it is we have that makes us so joyous?  And then leave them wanting to have what we have - to desire that which we desire.  To think:  I want what they have...and to somehow give them the impetus to enter those doors and simultaneously open the doors to their hearts.  Well, that's another blog post :-)!!

But back to Fr P's suggestions.  He also stated that we should stay at our Parish (territorial), even if the priest was a heretic, the singing was atrocious, etc...  At one level, I agree - Christ is present, the Mass is valid, Jesus is fully present in the Eucharist; we should stay and effect change from the inside.  Sure.  Sounds good.  But what if what used to be the favorite part of your week is now something you almost dread?  What if your love of the Liturgy causes you to cry every time you step into this particular parish church for Mass?  What if you have children who begin to parrot back the incorrect/incomplete theology the parish priest preaches?  Luckily my older son is old enough to discuss these things, and my younger son is too young to really pay that much attention.  With children involved, it changes the dynamics a bit.  Much prayer, and thought, have gone into my decision to go to another parish.  I realize that I feel too new, too unsure of myself - that I just don't have the strength to stay here and battle.  Another time, sure, but not now.  I need to be nurtured in my faith, to be helped along.  And when I get that, you know what?  I AM able to participate in Mass at my territorial parish - even with "Gather Us In" or "Abba, Father" being sung; even with questionable theology spouting from the priest's mouth; even when we are usually the only family kneeling - not holding hands - kneeling for communion - staying afterward to pray...if I can nurture my faith elsewhere, at parishes where the Liturgy is loved, respected and cared for, then I find I do have more strength and I'm sure that one day I will have gathered enough strength to try to make changes here.  But now, right now, I just can't...even though it means I travel approximately 3 hours one way to the next nearest Parish.  It is worth it.  I am fed - and from that nourishment I can begin to give back, to teach, to "fight the good fight."

Go to Mass!  Go to confession!  You'll be amazed at what transpires in your life if you consent to making these a priority. 

2 A.M.

Have you ever opened yourself in love to another, completely exposing your heart - offering your vulnerability, and been rejected?

Within a second, it occurred to me:  Yes, Lord, you have been here.  And how many times have you opened your heart to me, and I have rejected you?  How many times a day do you open your heart to the world, and how many times are you rejected, scorned, spat-upon, ridiculed?  And yet, you respond with Love.

I'm not a fan of the 2am awakening, but when the Lord reminds me to love others as He has loved me - when He reminds me that I need to keep focused on Him, following his footsteps as He carries His cross and I shoulder my very small one - then, I feel blessed to have been awakened from sound slumber.  Blessed and so very unworthy.  Blessed and completely unequipped for the task at hand.  Blessed and so very thankful.

Year of Faith

One of my favorite Dominican friars :-) wrote a short post on his blog noting three suggestions for the Year of Faith (which began yesterday): http://www.hancaquam.blogspot.com/2012/10/your-year-of-faith.html .
I've wanted to write something on 2 of these suggestions for some time, and reading his post this morning gave me the impetus to finally do so. 

First suggestion:  1).  Commit to making more and better use of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. (aka "Confession")  To this suggestion I give a hearty "AMEN"!!  In a previous post I wrote of my own difficulty with this sacrament.  It has gotten easier.  But, still, I find it challenging to approach this sacrament without some level of fear and anxiety.  But I don't let that stop me.  One thing that really helps is a daily examination of conscience.  Another is keeping my focus on Jesus - which is a double edged sword.  One the one side, as I keep my gaze focused on Him, on the Light in which I long to be enveloped, my many failings and faults and shortcomings and sins are so easily seen against the backdrop of Him.  But on the other side is the enormous, unfathomable, indescribable LOVE He has for me.  Just look at the Cross - look at Jesus on the Cross:  there is Love beyond all attempts at description.   I know, really I do, how intimidating that Love can seem.  But that feeling of intimidation does not come from God.

Also, in preparing my older son for his entry into the Church (we have no religious ed available here, so I took on the job of preparing him for Baptism, First Eucharist and Sacrament of Reconciliation), somewhere between the Baltimore Catechism and his old-fashioned (ie all pictures showed kneeling to receive) Eucharist prep book, he decided of his own volition that weekly Confession was the only way to go, and always prior to receiving Eucharist.  He made me think and pray, and now I, too, prefer frequent (weekly if I can get it) Confession.  What I've found is that there seems to be a grace to avoid sin included in the sacrament, for when I have contritely and completely confessed it is much easier to avoid sin...at least for a day or two!  So, yes, please, frequent the Sacrament of Reconciliation.  You will notice a distinct difference in your spiritual life if you commit to regular use of the Sacrament.

Fr. P, in his post, noted he hears confessions daily.  Would that more priests did this!  My territorial parish does not offer confession times.  You have to track the priest down.  Neither does he preach on sin, confession, etc....  Neither is there a choice for anonymity - confession takes place in the little (maybe 8' x 8') Eucharistic chapel which contains our tabernacle.  It is face-to-face ONLY, even for those of us who  requested an anonymous option - this option was not rejected as much as it was ridiculed (I know, because I was the one who asked).  I travel a considerable distance to receive this Sacrament, but even with all the challenges involved...IT IS WORTH IT!!

Go to confession!!

(I'll continue with his point # 2 later).

A Prayer

I have ceased to question you, My Lord,
except to know Your Will.
These tears within my heart
are reminders of the wall You have dismantled,
leaving me open and vulnerable
to Your mercy and love.
Protecting myself has only kept me far from You.
The Way I have traveled to Your arms
has left me bruised and bloodied,
but in Your Presence my wounds are healed,
my heart made pure.
With each step taken closer to You,
each opening of my heart in trust,
I tremble with fear.
Yet, You know my heart.
You know my desire.
Take me and mold me;
hold me in the warmth of Your hands
until my heart is pliable
and ever ready to be made into
that which you desire of me.
Amen

Sorrowful Mysteries

I find myself deeply involved in the Sorrowful Mysteries when I pray the Rosary.  My "favorite" mysteries are the Joyful, but the deepest meditations - the ones in which I sometimes get lost - are those I find in the Sorrowful Mysteries.  Today I thought about the cross - who will carry their cross?  How many of us just stand there looking at it, afraid to pick it up - afraid of the possible pain and suffering involved?  Are there many of us willing to endure the pain of the scourging?  Or even small mortifications, like fasting?  Doesn't our society look upon suffering with derision, as something to be avoided at all costs?  Hasn't our focus become pleasure, on our own well-being, on our own will?  How many refuse to follow our Lord?  Refuse to follow the sorrowful path, which leads to final death and resurrection...even while still in the world, dying to our self so that we may rise in Him?

I find that the more I travel this path, the more I realize how far I am from the "ideal".  The more I see my faults, my failings, my sins.  But the more I see how far I have to go, the more willing I am to pick up my cross; the more willing I am to follow Jesus; the more willing I am to let Him lead me down the path he has chosen for me.  Ultimately, the more willing I am to search for and find JOY.

Who Do People Say You Are?

In today's Gospel, Jesus asks his apostles who people say he is.  Then he asked who they said he was.  That made me think:  To the world, who is this Jesus?  I hear he was a good man, a prophet, an historical figure, an enlightened master, a champion of social justice, misguided, non-existent.  Even people who claim to be Christian will sometimes answer first with one of the above.  It just isn't politically correct to "believe" anymore, is it?

So I asked myself, who do I say Jesus is?  (I know, not really fair)  Here is what I wrote, in the order in which I wrote:  The Son of God, My Lord & My Savior (who died for my sins and rose from the dead), My Love & My Life, My One & My All, My Lord & My God.

All I need is found in Him.
All I desire is within His hands.
He is that for which I long.
His is the breath that sustains me.
It is within His Sacred Heart that I place all my trust.

Would that my mind and heart were one, united in my desire, joined to my true Love, working together to do His Will.

**Who do people say you are?  If they wouldn't say you are a Christian...why not?

Fill Me

At the risk of embarrassing myself, I am posting the prayer I wrote this morning -- for all 6 people who peruse my blog on any given day!  It is such a challenge to put such feelings into words, for I, at least, don't have the words and what I write seems so inadequate and also so easy for others to misconstrue, especially realizing the imagery that I tend to use.  Well, throwing caution to the winds, here goes:

I want You so deep within me
Beyond-beyond- I know not the words
I want to be filled with You
Full of Your Light and Your Presence
I want You as I have wanted nothing else
In truth, it is You I NEED
For without You I would have
No breath, no life, no soul
You are that which I seek
All I desire is contained within You
You are everything
Clean me of my attachments
Clear my heart of my own will
It is to You I long to cling
Your Will alone I long to follow
Drain me of myself
And fill me again with only You
Amen

What Makes Me Cry

I only cry when I am alone, or can reasonably be assured of no-one bothering me.  I cry during Eucharistic Adoration, and once I cried after a confession - the priest on the other side of the screen made me feel absolutely terrible about myself.  I got over it.  Good music can cause me to cry if I allow myself to be immersed within it.  Sad movies, sad stories, yes, these too.  But there is one thing that never fails to sadden me to the point of tears:  disrespect for life.

Of course, disrespect for life takes many forms.  When someone says they are "pro-life", abortion comes to mind.  But respect for life is not limited to the unborn.  The prisoner on death row, civilians in the middle of a war zone, the terminal or very elderly patient thinking about euthanasia, and many, many more situations are "life issues".  When we begin to lack a respect for life, I think we lose much of what makes us human.

A few years ago I heard of someone who had just found out she was pregnant.  She didn't want to be, so she had an abortion.  That made me cry.  It also caused me to start a Rosary for Life at our local church.  No one joined.  That, too, made me cry.  Is life really that controversial?  Can we not agree as humans that life is important enough to be valued?  Without life, what else matters?  If we aren't alive, then does universal health care really matter?  Does national defense really matter?  Does whether we have 3 or 6 county commissioners matter?  I am not an eloquent writer or speaker, but I feel to my core that we must value life, and if we do not then we are circling the drain faster than I thought.  We are sinking into an abyss, into a darkness. 

Here in Washington State the "Death with Dignity" act passed a couple of years ago.  If you are terminally ill, with a very short life expectancy, you can ask for a prescription which will provide you with drugs to end your life.  Of course, one must find a doctor who is willing to write this prescription.  Apparently that isn't too difficult to find.  This makes me cry, too.  I cannot discuss it intelligently right now - maybe later I will write some more on this.  Right now there is a situation hitting too close to home for me, and all I can do is cry and pray and cry some more.  Intelligent discussion will have to wait for another day.