It Gets Better

I went to the Grand Canyon in early June and hiked the rim-to-rim trail with some family members. It was a 23 mile hike spread over two days. As my brother and I flew down to Arizona, a real chatty Cathy got talking to my brother about the upcoming trip. She promised that it would be a "spiritual experience," and that we were doing the Grand Canyon right.

As we trudged through some 120* heat on the first day, blistered and run out of water, my brother and I joked bitterly, "Are you having a spiritual experience yet?" The second day was much harder, and I was flooded with thoughts of how unprepared we were, that it was someone's fault for not packing enough food, that it was Dad's fault for suggesting this trip would be easy, that it would be "a walk in the park." I almost had several princess-diva fits, but managed to swallow the growing sobs and keep walking.

As we walked along the bottom of the canyon, the sun rising over the canyon and lighting up the rocks, I thought, "It does get better." Another day dawns, the light shines again. I thought back to being 14, ready to end my life, and where I stood that day in the canyon. I had been broken and put back together, broken again, and put back together again many times. I was now a homeowner, on the brink of getting married, with good health and much to be thankful for.
I tried to keep this mantra in my head as we began the painful ascent that would take 7 hours for about 4.5 miles. This hardship will soon be over. I will be able to take off these boots and rest and be thankful.

I have hope in having hope again. My grandmother passed away about six weeks ago, and I have kept a framed prayer that was in her old parent's bedroom.
"I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year, 'Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown,' And he replied, 'Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.'" *Copyright Louise Harkins

I have been abandoned in this life; I have sometimes been forgotten but I will always have God's love to find myself again.

Praying?

You know those comic strips where little kids are praying because it's Christmas and they really really want a new bike, or they really really want to pass a test? "Please God, if you get me a bike for Christmas, I promise to be good." This is the framework I have in mind about praying.

There are, of course, the other prayers...the ones that are said on other people's behalf. Praying for the good health of other people, or to become a better person (please make me less selfish) seem to be the only "other" kind of prayers.

Yet, I keep hearing about all of these "other" prayers...there is a whole other side of praying that I have absolutely no idea about. I know a little bit about the rosary, and I know that it doesn't really have a hidden agenda. Praying the rosary doesn't really serve any one thing...it's more of an exercise (at least it seems to me) in devotion.

Lately, I've been so unfocused and stressed out that (again) instead of leaning more on God, I've been struggling it alone(ish). Most of the prayers that want to fall from my lips are along the lines of, "Please God, let this house deal fall through," or, "Please throw me a bone here as to what direction my life should be taking as far as some sort of vocation." However, these seem to fall into the first category of prayers: What can God do for me?

I've come to the conclusion that the only thing I should be praying for right now (besides for the good health of others) is for grace...grace to handle what God throws at me a little more gracefully. Lately, I feel more inclined to act like the 6 year old that didn't get that bike for Christmas.

A Different Church

I went to a lot of services this past Holy Week, and I feel content for having done so. I feel closer to God, and I feel like I am more focused on the light.

So, full of the light and joy that came from a beautiful and moving Saturday Vigil service, I got up very early the next morning to go to an Easter service at my future mother-in-law's church. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen before.

First off, the church that she goes to is in an affluent area, and the church itself is very large (and Protestant, but it's not your "typical" church, as you will see here shortly). The church I go to regularly is smaller, is in a pretty rough neighborhood, and doesn't have a free shuttle service.

So, I was prepared for a "multimedia experience" in a large, rich church. When I got there, it was very sterile, very bright, and very clean and modern looking. The room where the service was held was much like a movie theater (same kind of seats- very comfy) facing a large stage. On either side of the stage was a large projection screen. A professional worship band took the stage and sang 3 or 4 songs while the words were projected onto the screens, and everyone stood and watched. Next, a young man (I'm used to seeing very old priests) in jeans and a express-looking shirt came out and introduced himself and said his welcomes. Then, a fairly young man (dressed similarly trendily) came out and gave a comedic performance, with short bible verses and religious themed ideas sprinkled in. To finish, more worship band singing.

It was a very feel-good sort of a service. There was some lead-public prayer...but besides that, there was nothing really sacred about it. It lacked any ceremony or ritual, something I have come to love and lean upon in the Catholic church. When we stand up during a Catholic mass, there's a reason. We are giving reverence to something, whether that be the reading of the Gospel by the priest, or the procession of the cross. At the other service, we stood up so that we could clap or sing along with a band. It was very foreign, and very strange.

All that being said, I'm glad that that particular service exists because some people just love it, and feel a genuine emotional response, and leave feeling closer to God. That's great for them, it's just not my cup of tea. It did make my future mother in law very happy to have us with her at the service, so that was nice.

I'm looking forward to going to regular old Mass this Sunday. I never imagined when I first started the RCIA less than 3 years ago that Mass would one day feel so familiar, so comforting.

The Bigger Picture: A Good Investment

On this Holiest of Weeks...

I've been reading a lot lately. I've been reading more blogs and I'm feeling inspired to try and write better; I'm hoping to eventually write in such a way that each post is more essay-like, in that it would be centered around a theme (so serious!). That being said, it's about the process and I'm still looking towards the bigger picture.

I have been facing the darkness during this darkness of Lent. I am a grad school reject. What would grad school have done for me, besides stretching my intellect and making me feel accomplished? Well, it would have (potentially) been an investment in my career (future, not current...waitressing doesn't really require a whole lot of investment besides buying several ugly, masculine white shirts and some good starch).
So, in light of this particular investment being cut short, my fiance and I have decided to look into purchasing our first home. Since we will not be wandering across the country, we can put down some roots here and start a family sooner. That's nice. I like the idea of having a big kitchen with lots of counter space, and painting the inside of my (our) house all sorts of bright and pretty colors. I also like the thought of being preggo and having some children wandering around the house.

Being rejected has allowed me the freedom to focus more on the changes that are going on right now, and to invest more into my future husband, home, and family. That requires far more emotional risk and investment than studying some esoteric themes in literature (though I do dearly love those themes).

So, besides the obvious "oh, there's always a silver lining," or "God has other plans for you," I think what I'm learning from this present state of affairs is that in the bigger picture of life, that I'm changing direction but not my destination. I will be travelling through some different countryside than previously planned, and I'm okay with that.

The universe is humming a little louder. I've managed to finagle my work schedule so that I can attend all of the Holy-day services (Thursday, Good Friday, Saturday vigil, and Easter morning). The investment into going to church is really paying off in magical, musical, and colorful ways. While I cannot paint with all of the colors of the wind, God can, and it's inspiring me to work harder.

The Darkness

It's been a rough week.

I didn't get into graduate school. I have been fighting the desperation that naturally followed, the one that made me think I needed an immediate fix--the back-up plan of all back-up plans. I thought that perhaps God wanted me to become a nurse (my undergraduate degree is in philosophy, and my intent was to study comparative literature, so nursing would have been quite the turnaround). However, the thought that our bodies are just composed of a pile of organs really disturbs me on a deep, primal level, so I have decided to forgo an attempt to become a nurse.

Instead of turning to my faith to get me through these stressful and confusing times, I have stayed away. I feel like I am very much in my adolescence...I am a sultry teenager whom no one could understand. That being said, in this metaphor I have very loving parents so I don't feel alone (now).

I've been reading a similar themed blog written by a young woman living in Canada, who is a relatively new Orthodox Christian. It has been a comfort and inspiration during Lent.

For now, I am just trying to be patient and wait. "Be still and know that I am God."

One Day at a Time

So, the old phrase, "I'm taking it one day at a time," is commonly used by recovering addicts. Partly, this has to be done out of necessity due to the overwhelming amount of work needed to change one's life after hitting rock bottom. Imagine, a woman who's fallen into drug use, become homeless, lost her job, lost her friends, doesn't have a license, has bad credit (etc.) who decides to get sober and turn her life around. She has to "take it one day at a time" to simply stay sane and not fall into a pit of hopelessness at the seemingly enormous load of obstacles in her path to success.

The other reason to "take it one day at a time," is to avoid the ensnarement of pride. "Oh, think how awesome it will feel in 40 days if I pray the rosary every day!" That thought spells immediate set up for failure and disappointment. Not that I think it's impossible for me to do that everyday but I know I won't. If there's one thing I know about myself, is that (despite my predilection towards addiction), I have a hard time mustering up the discipline to do anything once a day every day (yes, true to British form, I have horrible teeth). So, I tell myself to be thankful for the presence of enthusiasm to do something good when it strikes. When I want to exercise, I'm happy that that particular desire arises at that moment (and I go and do it). Similarly, with the desire to pray or read the bible. As good as it would feel to do either of these things everyday, I know that I'm a long way off from that. It takes a tremendous amount of spiritual discipline to do that, and right now I'm just trying to be patient and thankful for the point of the journey that I am at.

On Lent

Lent is my favorite spiritual time of year. Lent isn't a "holiday" as there are no festivities or frolicking, and because of its time-span of 40 days it can't really be a season either. There is also a distinct lack of shopping sales during the Lenten period, too, so it is certainly not the most popular time for folks. I rather like this underdog that is neither a season nor a holiday.

Having struggled with addiction, quitting things comes naturally and all of the guilt and redemption that comes with it makes sense. Lent is a time to reflect upon the sinning part of our human nature, that is, the part that strays from God through selfish acts, indulgences, and generally just behaving badly. Many of the activities associated with addiction revolve around a cycle of indulgence/pleasure and regret/remorse.

That being said, Lent is more than giving up ice-cream for 40 days. Last year, I quit drinking soft drinks (no mere feat!). This year, I'm thinking about quitting soft drinks and coffee (yikes!). However, while I have quit these two things separately for 40 days and don't imagine that it will be too painful (and, honestly, these are things I will need to quit anyway at some point before my esophagus disintegrates in my sleep)...Jesus died for me, and all I can do is quit delicious caffeinated beverages? It seems that my action is quite tiny.

Speaking of the tiny, I got to reading about sacrifice beads (if I could insert a link in here, I would). Sacrifice beads were employed by St. Therese as a way of keeping track of her good and bad deeds and thoughts throughout the day. She would see every bead pushed towards the "good side" as a sign of a little gift she'd given to God, through the act of a good behavior or a kind deed to someone. You can purchase really cute ones that look a little bit like those chinese bead bracelets that were all the rage when I was 16. I considered making one for myself before I realized that I would bankrupt myself, I would have all my ten beads immediately on the bad side upon stepping into work (I like to complain a lot at work and think bad, judgmental thoughts about my customers). Still, it's a very nice idea...and is a nice illustration of the mighty "littleness" of St. Therese.

So, I will boldly abstain from coffee and soda, and hope that my tiny contribution makes some sort of a spiritual difference.