Lent is almost over. It seems to have gone by in a flurry of activity. I have been working on many home and craft projects with all of my "extra time" (sans TV shows). I know that it will be hard to resist watching TV again, but I've really enjoyed not watching it. I have been spending my time on more valuable pursuits, like walking my dogs so that they are less resistant to the leash someday.
I love the Triduum. I went to the Holy Thursday mass tonight, which ended with the candles being extinguished and the altar stripped. The services in the Triduum are always the most moving and beautiful, I find. There was the display of humility and service tonight in the feet washing, and tomorrow night there will be the veneration of the cross, with the climactic candle-lit vigil on Saturday night and the completion of the initiation process for the catechumens. I really enjoy each one.
I don't really have much to say, but that I am thankful to be a part of such a wonderful church, and that I'm able to get these nights off work to go to these services. I am ready to move and be moved, to love and be loved.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Giving Things Up
I don't know if it's just traditionally a "Catholic thing" to give up something for Lent, or whether or not it's just a modern thing that folks do in addition to fasting on certain days during the season. In the past, I've given up soda and/or coffee. I've had problems over-consuming soda in the past (I have awful cavity-ridden teeth), so it's been useful to give it up just for the purpose of being healthier. However, being healthy isn't really the point of Lent is it?
The homily from this past Sunday was about allowing God to carve away at us, to strip away the things that are not really "me," in order that I may become more like Christ and grow closer to God. The priest referenced the Jeremiah quote about the potter's wheel to drive home this idea. We give up things during Lent that we should probably go ahead and give up altogether. We should give up something that interferes with our relationship to God, or prevents us from being good people.
When I gave up soda the first time, I remember on Easter going down to the grocery store across the street from my apartment to pick up a delicious cold something or other. I stood in front of the rows of cold sodas and thought, "Maybe I should just stay quit." This thought was fleeting, as I chose the unhealthy, I chose a delicious Vanilla Coke. I constantly make choices that are less healthy, the wrong choices. I choose to sleep in instead of getting up and getting a head start on the day. I choose to not brush my teeth at night (sometimes). On some Sundays, I choose to sleep in instead of going to church. I constantly put other things before my faith.
This year, since pregnancy has forced me to give up many unhealthy foods and beverages already, I decided to give up watching TV shows. This was a casual decision, but I am really enjoying the results. I feel as if I have so much extra time, and more energy, and that I'm getting more done. It could just be the pregnancy hormones, but my house has never been cleaner or tidier. I've been emptying the dishwasher the same day I run it (this is no small thing for me), I have been washing pans the same night I use them (mostly). Spending this "extra" time a little more intentionally, I feel happier and I feel more content. Since I'm being more productive, I feel less edgy about the level of cleanliness in the house, which means I'm a much nicer person to be around (I hope). I may just quit watching TV for good, in the name of doing more of the things that I really enjoy...and I hope that in so doing, I am somehow moving closer to God.
The homily from this past Sunday was about allowing God to carve away at us, to strip away the things that are not really "me," in order that I may become more like Christ and grow closer to God. The priest referenced the Jeremiah quote about the potter's wheel to drive home this idea. We give up things during Lent that we should probably go ahead and give up altogether. We should give up something that interferes with our relationship to God, or prevents us from being good people.
When I gave up soda the first time, I remember on Easter going down to the grocery store across the street from my apartment to pick up a delicious cold something or other. I stood in front of the rows of cold sodas and thought, "Maybe I should just stay quit." This thought was fleeting, as I chose the unhealthy, I chose a delicious Vanilla Coke. I constantly make choices that are less healthy, the wrong choices. I choose to sleep in instead of getting up and getting a head start on the day. I choose to not brush my teeth at night (sometimes). On some Sundays, I choose to sleep in instead of going to church. I constantly put other things before my faith.
This year, since pregnancy has forced me to give up many unhealthy foods and beverages already, I decided to give up watching TV shows. This was a casual decision, but I am really enjoying the results. I feel as if I have so much extra time, and more energy, and that I'm getting more done. It could just be the pregnancy hormones, but my house has never been cleaner or tidier. I've been emptying the dishwasher the same day I run it (this is no small thing for me), I have been washing pans the same night I use them (mostly). Spending this "extra" time a little more intentionally, I feel happier and I feel more content. Since I'm being more productive, I feel less edgy about the level of cleanliness in the house, which means I'm a much nicer person to be around (I hope). I may just quit watching TV for good, in the name of doing more of the things that I really enjoy...and I hope that in so doing, I am somehow moving closer to God.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Door Knockers and the Homeless
A few minutes ago, a minivan pulled up in front of my house. I might not normally have noticed such a thing, except that I happened to be by my kitchen window washing dishes, and my dogs alerted me to potential visitors.
Six well-dressed folks poured out of the van and started walking around. Jehovah's Witnesses. Two women came to my door and read me a short bible verse. God wants us to be happy and at peace. I let them leave a couple of magazines with me, and then they left. I sure don't mind a well-meaning person reading me some scripture, wishing me a good day, and departing. I always try to be as polite as possible to door-knockers of all forms, because I know that many people prefer to just slam the door in peoples' faces (how rude!).
I really am not a fan of evangelicism. Not a bit. However, I believe in the power of the words of the bible being spoken aloud, and it was quite a nice midday reminder of God's love. These particular people, along with missionaries, are doing what they can to be witnesses to God. They believe that one way of doing this is sharing the good word. I can respect that, whether or not I'd choose to do it myself.
The other night I went to KFC right before they closed (late-night craving, what can I say?). I held the door for a man lugging some chicken wings and a suitcase, and he said "God bless you." This man was probably homeless- he had an unopened can of beer on him, and had clearly been imbibing some already, and was dragging his belongings around him in not such a nice place in town. What if he deeply meant this? Someone who, on many unknown levels, has seemingly not been blessed can still warmly wish well upon others. I thought about this on my way home, in my warm car, to my house full of food that I was ignoring in preference to fast-food. I have been blessed in many apparent ways: all of my basic human needs are being met. I have a home, a job, an education (whether I'm using it or not in my employment...this is something I really need to get over), a family, and a loving husband.
Obviously, this man doesn't know any of this about me when he wished God's blessings upon me...The Witnesses today did not know that I already have God in my life and don't wish to join their church...But those things are irrelevant. In both scenarios, these people are being witnesses to God's love. They are wishing well upon others, wishing happiness and peace, despite (probably) being ignored by others and viewed as pests.
Six well-dressed folks poured out of the van and started walking around. Jehovah's Witnesses. Two women came to my door and read me a short bible verse. God wants us to be happy and at peace. I let them leave a couple of magazines with me, and then they left. I sure don't mind a well-meaning person reading me some scripture, wishing me a good day, and departing. I always try to be as polite as possible to door-knockers of all forms, because I know that many people prefer to just slam the door in peoples' faces (how rude!).
I really am not a fan of evangelicism. Not a bit. However, I believe in the power of the words of the bible being spoken aloud, and it was quite a nice midday reminder of God's love. These particular people, along with missionaries, are doing what they can to be witnesses to God. They believe that one way of doing this is sharing the good word. I can respect that, whether or not I'd choose to do it myself.
The other night I went to KFC right before they closed (late-night craving, what can I say?). I held the door for a man lugging some chicken wings and a suitcase, and he said "God bless you." This man was probably homeless- he had an unopened can of beer on him, and had clearly been imbibing some already, and was dragging his belongings around him in not such a nice place in town. What if he deeply meant this? Someone who, on many unknown levels, has seemingly not been blessed can still warmly wish well upon others. I thought about this on my way home, in my warm car, to my house full of food that I was ignoring in preference to fast-food. I have been blessed in many apparent ways: all of my basic human needs are being met. I have a home, a job, an education (whether I'm using it or not in my employment...this is something I really need to get over), a family, and a loving husband.
Obviously, this man doesn't know any of this about me when he wished God's blessings upon me...The Witnesses today did not know that I already have God in my life and don't wish to join their church...But those things are irrelevant. In both scenarios, these people are being witnesses to God's love. They are wishing well upon others, wishing happiness and peace, despite (probably) being ignored by others and viewed as pests.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Epiphany
There are two different priests who conduct mass at my local church, each with their own style. Father Steve, the older (?) of the two, has been doing most of the masses for the last few months (at least the ones I've attended). Father Steve is a major word-nerd. He very much enjoys the richness of etymology, and will often explain the historical, spiritual, and cultural significance of words that come up in the readings.
Today was no exception. Epiphany comes from an ancient Greek word meaning, 'to show.' This word (and its significance in The Epiphany) is expressed through the Platonic ideal that there are forms that contain a deeper significance that remain hidden to individuals until there is a moment of light when understanding is gained (an epiphany, if you will). That is to say, in such a moment one can see "how things really are." Good old fashioned metaphysics are at hand, here.
The classic example of an epiphany is "the moment of clarity" experienced by an alcoholic when he or she realizes that drinking has become a problem and it's time to quit. An epiphany calls for a fundamental lifestyle change. Even if the addict doesn't make a complete turnaround at that point, it's impossible to truly turn back and silence the understanding gained during that moment. That addict will know that the behavior is wrong, that it isn't healthy, and will not lead to anything good.
The epiphany of advent is that God is with us. Love is with us. Love is a force governing and existing in the universe, even in the face of evidence pointing to the contrary. There were over 2,000 emergency calls made in Manchester, England on New Year's Eve; 33 of those calls were to report stabbings. There is a shocking amount of violence in the world.
I've had "moments of clarity" in my life, several of them with the same epiphany. I don't think that the message I'm receiving is falling on deaf ears. I have not been as successful as acting on this message as I would have hoped, but I recognize that it is a slow, slow process. On different ocassions, I have realized that I do not show love to myself the way I do to others. I have, at different times in my life, engaged in self-destructive behaviors, while still maintaining friendships wherein I displayed great concern for the other person but very little for myself. I have come a long, long way to correct this, and realize that I am at a much healthier place now than I ever have been.
I go through phases of wanting to eat healthy, exercise daily, and do all sorts of very health-nutty things. Due to a recent event (which I will share in about a month), I have actually started working on this more actively. I have eaten brown rice and whole wheat bread today--something utterly unprecedented in my life! This recent event is still (mostly) rooted in loving another, but since I am also the benefactor of this caring and healthy lifestyle change, I will embrace it as a good thing.
Things really are good. God is with me. At any point, I can always pick-up, try again, and be healthy and wish goodness upon myself. I can show love towards myself by making healthy choices. I am excited for these small, good changes.
Today was no exception. Epiphany comes from an ancient Greek word meaning, 'to show.' This word (and its significance in The Epiphany) is expressed through the Platonic ideal that there are forms that contain a deeper significance that remain hidden to individuals until there is a moment of light when understanding is gained (an epiphany, if you will). That is to say, in such a moment one can see "how things really are." Good old fashioned metaphysics are at hand, here.
The classic example of an epiphany is "the moment of clarity" experienced by an alcoholic when he or she realizes that drinking has become a problem and it's time to quit. An epiphany calls for a fundamental lifestyle change. Even if the addict doesn't make a complete turnaround at that point, it's impossible to truly turn back and silence the understanding gained during that moment. That addict will know that the behavior is wrong, that it isn't healthy, and will not lead to anything good.
The epiphany of advent is that God is with us. Love is with us. Love is a force governing and existing in the universe, even in the face of evidence pointing to the contrary. There were over 2,000 emergency calls made in Manchester, England on New Year's Eve; 33 of those calls were to report stabbings. There is a shocking amount of violence in the world.
I've had "moments of clarity" in my life, several of them with the same epiphany. I don't think that the message I'm receiving is falling on deaf ears. I have not been as successful as acting on this message as I would have hoped, but I recognize that it is a slow, slow process. On different ocassions, I have realized that I do not show love to myself the way I do to others. I have, at different times in my life, engaged in self-destructive behaviors, while still maintaining friendships wherein I displayed great concern for the other person but very little for myself. I have come a long, long way to correct this, and realize that I am at a much healthier place now than I ever have been.
I go through phases of wanting to eat healthy, exercise daily, and do all sorts of very health-nutty things. Due to a recent event (which I will share in about a month), I have actually started working on this more actively. I have eaten brown rice and whole wheat bread today--something utterly unprecedented in my life! This recent event is still (mostly) rooted in loving another, but since I am also the benefactor of this caring and healthy lifestyle change, I will embrace it as a good thing.
Things really are good. God is with me. At any point, I can always pick-up, try again, and be healthy and wish goodness upon myself. I can show love towards myself by making healthy choices. I am excited for these small, good changes.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Excitement
My husband often tells me, during times of stress, that I should enjoy the experience. He doesn't mean that I should "live in the moment," but rather allow myself to really feel the stress and recognize that every difficult time is one that I will look back on someday.
When we were in the process of buying our house, there were several occasions when I felt certain that the deal was going to fall through: we weren't going to be approved for the loan, someone else was going to outbid us, the house wasn't going to pass inspection...But, in the end, here I sit in my very own living room, with a faint memory of that anguish-filled process.
Even when I'm filled with anguish, whether it be house-related or deciding upon a career or education path, I'm excited for something. Hope lies underneath that unrest. Underneath my negativity, there lies a deep and abiding optimism that things will work out. I am not doomed to unhappiness. Graduate school did not work out (for now), but we did get our house to fill with our dreams. I'm still excited about the possibility of future education, and I'm excited about the prospect of growing a family.
I'm excited for Christmas Eve this year. This particular Christmas Eve is the ten-year anniversary of an unmentionable incident. Every year, it is a cause for grieving, but I'm planning on making this my last year that I choose this particular path of dealing with it. I go shopping on Christmas Eve. In a daze, I wander through crowded stores and splurge on clothing (hello, Old Navy!). This year, I'm mainly shopping for house-goods because I have quite a closet full of clothes that I don't wear. Next year, I'm going to look into volunteering on Christmas Eve.
I'm excited for Christmas Eve mass this year. I look forward to taking communion, to kiss goodbye all the sins and failures and letdowns of this year, and be re-born in hope for the new. God has been with me through all of my past anguishes, through all of my hopes.
Even right now, a time when my plate is relatively blank: I'm a newly-wed, pre-pregnant, with no future education lined up, no new job prospects in sight (although I do now have my CNA license), and in the process of becoming a US citizen. There is a potential tornado of activity ahead, and right now I'm living in a period of stability and calm. I am trying to savor this calm because I know I will look back on it someday with nostalgia (probably some future night when I am changing a newborn, and am utterly exhausted).
I hope to do better next year; I hope that I will be more positive, and that I will be able to more fully open myself to God and all His love and wisdom.
When we were in the process of buying our house, there were several occasions when I felt certain that the deal was going to fall through: we weren't going to be approved for the loan, someone else was going to outbid us, the house wasn't going to pass inspection...But, in the end, here I sit in my very own living room, with a faint memory of that anguish-filled process.
Even when I'm filled with anguish, whether it be house-related or deciding upon a career or education path, I'm excited for something. Hope lies underneath that unrest. Underneath my negativity, there lies a deep and abiding optimism that things will work out. I am not doomed to unhappiness. Graduate school did not work out (for now), but we did get our house to fill with our dreams. I'm still excited about the possibility of future education, and I'm excited about the prospect of growing a family.
I'm excited for Christmas Eve this year. This particular Christmas Eve is the ten-year anniversary of an unmentionable incident. Every year, it is a cause for grieving, but I'm planning on making this my last year that I choose this particular path of dealing with it. I go shopping on Christmas Eve. In a daze, I wander through crowded stores and splurge on clothing (hello, Old Navy!). This year, I'm mainly shopping for house-goods because I have quite a closet full of clothes that I don't wear. Next year, I'm going to look into volunteering on Christmas Eve.
I'm excited for Christmas Eve mass this year. I look forward to taking communion, to kiss goodbye all the sins and failures and letdowns of this year, and be re-born in hope for the new. God has been with me through all of my past anguishes, through all of my hopes.
Even right now, a time when my plate is relatively blank: I'm a newly-wed, pre-pregnant, with no future education lined up, no new job prospects in sight (although I do now have my CNA license), and in the process of becoming a US citizen. There is a potential tornado of activity ahead, and right now I'm living in a period of stability and calm. I am trying to savor this calm because I know I will look back on it someday with nostalgia (probably some future night when I am changing a newborn, and am utterly exhausted).
I hope to do better next year; I hope that I will be more positive, and that I will be able to more fully open myself to God and all His love and wisdom.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Vocation
I'm back. It has been some time since I've written and quite a few big things have happened. I had my first confession, I was married, and I went on a really magical honeymoon to Mexico. I've been contemplating confession, birth control, marriage, and vocation. Vocation is the real stumper, not because my decision is difficult, but rather because it requires me to embrace a new way of life. Ultimately, I will move towards the good, but the path of least resistance is easy to get sucked into.
I'm reading 'A Year with Thomas Merton,' which composes of excerpts from his journals over the years. This entry, written on October 22nd, 1952, has really struck me and is haunting my days.
"Whether we live or die, we are the Lord's. Life and death alike can be offered up as penance. I can make reparations for my impiety by living as perfectly as I can the Rule and Spirit of St. Benedict- obedience, humility, work, prayer, simplicity, the love of Christ.
The light of truth burns without a flicker in the depths of a house that is shaken with storms of passion and of fear. 'You will not fear the terror of the night.' And so I go on trying to walk on the waters of the breakdown. Worse than ever before and better than ever before. It is always painful and reassuring when he who I am not is visibly destroyed by the hand of God in order that the simplicity in the depths of me, which is His image, may be set free to serve Him in peace. Sometimes in the midst of all this I am tremendously happy, and I have never in my life begun to be so grateful for His mercy..."
Beautiful words, no? I think about this in light of my graduate school rejections, about the loss of my dream of professorship, and about the possibility of instead becoming a nurse. What could involve more humility and kindness than nursing?
I am the Lord's, regardless of how well I have handled this rejection and how hard I have labored to rebuild myself and driven towards a new goal. I need not fear the darkness of unknowing, because God is waiting silently for me to awaken to His plans, and to realize that the person I thought that I should be has been erased. Instead, I am encouraged to pursue the simple solution waiting inside of the peace of my soul, and to pursue it whole heartedly.
Feeling God's presence through this decision is very joyful and very reassuring. I have hope for a different future, one that will still be bright but still challenging. The future will be demanding, no doubt. I hope that I can ground myself firmly in peace, that I will not storm about looking for the answer that is already in front of me.
I'm reading 'A Year with Thomas Merton,' which composes of excerpts from his journals over the years. This entry, written on October 22nd, 1952, has really struck me and is haunting my days.
"Whether we live or die, we are the Lord's. Life and death alike can be offered up as penance. I can make reparations for my impiety by living as perfectly as I can the Rule and Spirit of St. Benedict- obedience, humility, work, prayer, simplicity, the love of Christ.
The light of truth burns without a flicker in the depths of a house that is shaken with storms of passion and of fear. 'You will not fear the terror of the night.' And so I go on trying to walk on the waters of the breakdown. Worse than ever before and better than ever before. It is always painful and reassuring when he who I am not is visibly destroyed by the hand of God in order that the simplicity in the depths of me, which is His image, may be set free to serve Him in peace. Sometimes in the midst of all this I am tremendously happy, and I have never in my life begun to be so grateful for His mercy..."
Beautiful words, no? I think about this in light of my graduate school rejections, about the loss of my dream of professorship, and about the possibility of instead becoming a nurse. What could involve more humility and kindness than nursing?
I am the Lord's, regardless of how well I have handled this rejection and how hard I have labored to rebuild myself and driven towards a new goal. I need not fear the darkness of unknowing, because God is waiting silently for me to awaken to His plans, and to realize that the person I thought that I should be has been erased. Instead, I am encouraged to pursue the simple solution waiting inside of the peace of my soul, and to pursue it whole heartedly.
Feeling God's presence through this decision is very joyful and very reassuring. I have hope for a different future, one that will still be bright but still challenging. The future will be demanding, no doubt. I hope that I can ground myself firmly in peace, that I will not storm about looking for the answer that is already in front of me.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Healing the Sick
I recently went to The Grotto, which is a sanctuary in Portland dedicated to Mary. I prayed for my upcoming marriage and for a little peace of mind. I've been feeling quite lost lately, and have been searching for something "to do" since I was not accepted into grad school.
I had a moment while I was in St. Paul in March, when there was still snow on the ground, and I was out on a run. I thought, I could become a nurse, I could tend to the sick and still be doing an activity of one of the beatitudes. If I'm not tending to the sick, housing the homeless, feeding the hungry, etc...then what am I doing? Being a waitress is technically feeding the hungry, but rarely am I addressing "real" hunger. Anyway, back to this moment. I thought that diving into nursing would be too much of a rebound, and that I shouldn't rush into it with the pangs of comparative literature reject fresh on my heart. I've been letting it mull over since that time, and I believe that it's the right thing to do.
I registered for a CNA course, which will be a good first step to see if I like the field, and to see if I'll be motivated enough to become a nurse some day. I'm sort of starting over (again) in a different field, and I'll have no experiences so I'll be at the bottom of the food chain, but it'll be good I think. It feels like a step in the right direction, and I'll be caring for people in a way that I never have before. I'll be serving people when they are at their most weak and vulnerable. There will be the viewing of more suffering, yes, but also a greater chance to see the face of Christ in my fellow man.
I had a moment while I was in St. Paul in March, when there was still snow on the ground, and I was out on a run. I thought, I could become a nurse, I could tend to the sick and still be doing an activity of one of the beatitudes. If I'm not tending to the sick, housing the homeless, feeding the hungry, etc...then what am I doing? Being a waitress is technically feeding the hungry, but rarely am I addressing "real" hunger. Anyway, back to this moment. I thought that diving into nursing would be too much of a rebound, and that I shouldn't rush into it with the pangs of comparative literature reject fresh on my heart. I've been letting it mull over since that time, and I believe that it's the right thing to do.
I registered for a CNA course, which will be a good first step to see if I like the field, and to see if I'll be motivated enough to become a nurse some day. I'm sort of starting over (again) in a different field, and I'll have no experiences so I'll be at the bottom of the food chain, but it'll be good I think. It feels like a step in the right direction, and I'll be caring for people in a way that I never have before. I'll be serving people when they are at their most weak and vulnerable. There will be the viewing of more suffering, yes, but also a greater chance to see the face of Christ in my fellow man.
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