Day Four: Hope

This blog post is part of my 2017 Write 31 Days blog series 31 Reflections on Mental Health and Illness. To read the whole series, click here for the series index page.

"I plead with you -- never ever give up on hope, never doubt, never tire, and never become discouraged. Be not afraid."

- Pope St. John Paul II

Friends, I'm going to be really real with you.  This is a hard entry for me to write.

One of the hardest things in the last four years has been the virtue of hope. I have written about my struggles with this several times on this blog. It has only been in the last six months or so that I have dared to say, "I have hope" with regard to my mental illness. That is a MASSIVE step forward for me and it is one that I do not take lightly.

It has taken me nearly four years to utter the word hope in any meaningful sense, but it has taken me most of my life to truly understand what hope really means and what it means to have hope. This most recent four years has helped me understand that hope is so much more than a feeling or emotion or even some kind of certain knowledge about God or your eternal destination.

Hope is vital. It is the very lifeblood of our existence and that makes it an absolutely critical thing to possess when you are struggling with the darkness and uncertainty of mental illness. It is the thing, without which, you have no chance of healing or recovery. I have known that it is very important for a long time, but it wasn't until I felt as though all my hope in everything and everyone was gone (God included), that I began to truly understand just how vitally important it is.

I included the quote from my patron saint above because it's one that, as much as I love my Papa (my affectionate name for him), has served to cause me great frustration. Many people are familiar with the last sentence of that quote because it is one of the most famous lines from his initial address to the faithful in St. Peter's Square just after his election to the papacy, but fewer know the rest of the quote.

When I read this quote in its entirety, I felt the all too familiar feelings of frustration bubble up inside me. Instead of encouraging me, it made me feel angry and misunderstood. I couldn't understand how this great saint and leader of the Church could say such a thing to people suffering unimaginable horrors and many worse than my own. The simple answer is that he suffered greatly and yet, through all of his suffering, he clung to Jesus and put his steadfast hope in Christ's love. In other words, he could say it because he knew it was true.

"Never give up on hope." -- This doesn't mean that you can't struggle with hope. It doesn't mean that you can't or shouldn't have the experience of feeling hopeless. It doesn't even mean that you shouldn't express those feelings and struggles. In fact, bringing those into the light is what keeps you from falling completely into despair. Telling someone -- a priest or minister or friend or counsellor -- that you are feeling hopeless and telling them as often as you need to is how you find your way back to hope again. John Paul's exhortation here means to me that no matter how dark it gets and no matter how hopeless you feel, realise that despite what you feel, there is still hope and never give up on searching for it anew.

"Never doubt." -- First things first -- doubt is fine. Doubt is okay. Doubt can actually lead you towards the truth and away from lies. This exhortation doesn't mean that you can't ever doubt anything. You can certainly doubt anything and anyone -- even God. I've been there, done that, and yes, even with God. For a very very long time, I doubted that God cared for me anymore because I doubted His presence in my life. I felt abandoned by Him in my darkest hour and so I even began to doubt His existence and His Word, the Bible. I'll admit that I didn't stay in doubt of His existence or the Bible for very long, but during those weeks when I found myself so very doubtful of everything I'd ever known about Him, I wondered if I would ever find my way back. I did find my way back, but that experience of doubting left me changed and with a new understanding of God that I've never had before. In the case of mental illness, I don't think St. John Paul ever meant that doubt isn't allowed, but rather that we should never become so mired in our doubts that we stop believing altogether. During my period of doubting God, I struggled with belief, but I never stopped believing.

"Never tire." -- This one is a real gut punch. Mental illness is exhausting and healing from mental illness is exhausting. Again though, this doesn't mean what it appears to mean on the surface. John Paul's life was marked by the grief of losing both his mother and father and both his siblings before age 20, by being forced to study in secret to become a priest, by living through Nazi occupation of his beloved Poland and Communist occupation after WWII, by being nearly killed by a Nazi truck while working in a mine as a young man, by being shot during an assassination attempt, and by the ravages of Parkinson's disease. If anyone had a license to be tired, it was John Paul II, but he was indefatigable. He had an almost superhuman strength and energy despite all the many crosses he was called upon to carry. I believe there must have been days when he was very very tired, but he kept going and kept fighting the good fight. He heeded Jesus' words to His apostles and made up his mind to "persevere to the end" (Matthew 24:13). "Never tire" simply means -- persevere, even when you are tired of fighting and you want to lay down and die, keep fighting. Keep moving forward, even if only inch by inch.

"Never become discouraged." -- Again, on its face, this seems like a horrible thing to say to someone who is struggling with mental illness. Mental illness is, very often, discouraging. There are medications that don't work, challenges to face (often one immediately after another), suicidal crises, and then all the day to day ordinary life stuff to deal with on top of your mental illness. That can make it feel as though you're drowning in discouragement. This statement "never become discouraged" doesn't mean that you can never feel discouraged or sad when you're struggling. Rather, I think it means to never allow discouragement to keep you stuck in one spot so that you become so tired by it all that you stop believing and give up on hope all together.

It's really the last statement -- "Be not afraid" -- that ties it all together. Fear has the power to be both a great motivator and a great hindrance. Good fear motivates us to move forward, to protect ourselves, and to do things like plan for the future. The fear that John Paul is speaking of here is the kind of fear that leads to a total giving up on hope and that which keeps us from persevering to the end so that we may be saved. Mental illness is absolutely scary at times, but it doesn't have to be that way. One of the biggest things that helps my fears when it comes to my illness is knowing that I have people around me who know that I'm struggling, who love and care about me, and who are willing to walk with me through the hardest days.

So with all of this knowledge, is hope easy for me? Nope. It's actually one of the hardest things for me to embrace even now. I still doubt myself and doubt that I'm moving forward. I still have moments when saying the word "hope" out loud makes me feel a bit queasy and anxious because I am afraid that it will lead to things getting worse (this is irrational, I know!). That being said, I say it a lot more often these days than I used to and I genuinely believe that there is a light at the end of this dark tunnel I've been in for decades.

Even though I still have days when it's hard to find hope, I can say with all honesty, that I know hope exists, because I have come to understand that hope is the person of Jesus Christ Himself. He is hope incarnate. The very Word of God is, within Himself, the virtue of Hope in all its fullness. And that, my friends, is a very powerful thing to have in your mental health toolbox.

Day One: Worship

This blog post is part of my 2017 Write 31 Days blog series 31 Reflections on Mental Health and Illness. To read the whole series, click here for the series index page.

To be honest, this is both an odd and logical place to begin talking about the topic of mental health and mental illness. It is odd inasmuch as it isn't what I'd have chosen to start with, but it is logical for me to begin with it as a person of faith. For me, worship of God is essential to my whole life and for my mental health, it is absolutely critical. It is vital to the point that if I am forced to be away from it for a week or two, I find myself struggling harder mentally and emotionally. 

As a Catholic, what worship means to me is the Mass. The Mass is where the supreme sacrifice of Christ is represented and He comes to offer Himself as nourishment for our bodies, minds, and souls through the Holy Eucharist. He is truly present --- Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity -- in the consecrated host and in the cup and partaking of that gift is a kind of sustenance that gives me a whole lot more strength than I have normally. That's because when I receive Jesus, I am receiving an infusion of His perfect, salvific grace. That is extremely powerful. So I receive communion during worship and go out and conquer all the mountains of mental illness, right?

Actually, no. It doesn't quite work like that at all. 

What happens is that it gives me strength for the journey and a lifeline when I am falling fast into the darkness and want to give up. In truth, I don't often feel like worship of God benefits me at all, but that's because day to day, I can't see the bigger picture. Day to day, I'm focused on housework, parenting our three daughters, my marriage, my advocacy work, and therapy. Some days, I'm simply focused on breathing in and breathing out and making it to the end of the day. 

So how do I know that this Holy Eucharistic nourishment that I receive each week as I worship God in community with my fellow Catholics is, in fact, something that benefits me?

 

It's when I've gone through the darkest darkness and am bereft of the mental ability to choose life and light that I see it. When I find myself on the other side of those great chasms of despair which threaten to take me away from this existence, I can look back and see His strength guiding my hands, feet, and even my addled mind. I can see how the graces I receive each week enabled me in those moments to reach out and find a hand to hold to help me back to a place of sanity and life instead of death.

For me, it's that critical. It is, at times, quite literally, the difference between attempting suicide and staying safe. It sustains me in the good times, but when my mental health takes a serious nosedive, that is when I truly believe it makes ALL the difference. I think that's why I feel kind of Jesus-anemic when I haven't been able to go to church and receive Jesus in Holy Communion. I need Him like I need water and air and food. 

For the last two Sundays, I've been unable to meet Him and receive Him in my weekly worship and I can tell. Thankfully, the Church offers Jesus to the faithful every single day of the week at Daily Masses, so there are other opportunities than Sundays. It's hard to find the time on a weekday, but for me, this week, I think it's going to be a priority to come and worship Him again even before next Sunday. 

I'll end with a quote from one of my patron saints, Pope St. John Paul II, which I think sums up this need and desire for worshiping and receiving Jesus in the Eucharist:

FMF: Empty

It's been a while since I've written in this blog in part because we've had a lot going on within our family life of late. I really want to get back into the habit of writing on a regular basis, so with that in mind, here's my contribution to this week's linkup at the Five Minute Friday community. This week's word prompt is EMPTY. Given that we've just been through Holy Week, I've been thinking and meditating on Christ's last week on earth and more particularly, on His death and resurrection. This prompt definitely pointed toward all these meditations for me, so that was the inspiration for this. I hope you find something in it to edify and encourage you. Happy Easter!

EMPTY

I have heard quite a few people ask the question of Catholics, “why do you keep Jesus nailed to the cross?” It's a good question. Most non-Catholic Christian churches do not have a cross with Jesus nailed to it. Their crosses are empty. Having grown up Baptist, I was always told that the reason the cross was empty was because He had overcome death. So if the empty cross is a symbol for Jesus having overcome death, then why do Catholics display and wear a crucifix?

There are a number of reasons for this, but the biggest of these is that having Jesus on the cross in front of our eyes makes it so that every time we see it, we are reminded of His great love for us – that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. You see, it is death that we see when we look at a crucifix. It is an agonising, brutal, vicious, torturous death. It is also a beautiful death. That may sound strange, but think of it this way: not only did His death bring about redemption and the possibility of salvation for all of mankind, but He bore that death with the full knowledge that there would be those who would reject His love. When Catholics look at a crucifix, we are moved both by the agony of it and the beauty of it, because we see Him at His most loving.

One of the other things that a crucifix encourages us to do every time we look at it is to persevere as we carry our own crosses. It also encourages us that He is with us in that journey because He has been there and He knows the pain of carrying a cross. He knows it more perfectly and more fully than we will ever begin to fathom. So when we gaze upon the crucified form of Jesus on a cross, we can draw great strength from being reminded that He is with us, helping us to carry the crosses of life.

Finally, there is one Truth that we are reminded of every time we gaze upon a crucifix and that is this: there is no way to heaven but through the cross. To reach heaven, we must go through the cross. We can't go around it. We can't avoid it. We can't ignore it and pretend that it isn't there or that we don't need it. We need to embrace the crucified Christ because His love for us in that moment is what enables us to reach heaven.   

Without the crucifixion, there can be no resurrection and the resurrection – the empty tomb, not the empty cross – is the ultimate symbol of victory over death. That empty tomb is a promise that one day our own tombs will be empty because we will be raised up, our bodies made perfect because of Christ's death and resurrection, and we will be with Him for eternity, enjoying the beatific vision of God the Father.

So we keep Jesus on the cross – not because we are consumed with His death – but rather because seeing Him there is an unavoidable and constant reminder of just how much we are worth to God. When the world tells you that you are worthless or you feel like God doesn't love you or doesn't care about you, I encourage you to go look at a crucifix and meditate on what you see before you.

That, my friends, is the message of the crucifix. The crucifix in all its brutality with Jesus hanging upon the cross is a message of great love and of great hope. We know when we see it that this isn't the end of the story and so the crucifix points us toward the empty tomb and the resurrection. It gives us hope that our own crosses are not the end of our stories. It gives us hope that with His help, we can persevere to the end, having run the race to its completion and having obtained the prize of eternal life.

Day One: Season

As summer slowly fades into autumn, the time of the year that I call The Season of Celebrations begins for our family. In the next three months, we have the following:

• Five birthdays
• Our wedding anniversary
• Four major holidays
• Three Holy Days of Obligation
• Four name and/or patron saint feast days
• Two additional saint feast days plus one of the many feasts celebrating Our Lord
• Advent and the beginning of the Catholic New Year
• Choir concerts at school
• Class Christmas parties
• Family coming to visit

And all these are just extras on top the normal day to day things of life like chores, paying bills, cooking meals, parenting responsibilities, grocery shopping, school, work, and church. I often joke that at I take a really big breath somewhere around mid-September and don't exhale until January 2nd. It certainly feels like things move crazy fast and there's just not enough time for anything during this season of the year. I think the fact that the days get shorter and darker earlier makes it feel even faster than it already would.

Another thing that makes this season seem to rush by is that I'm personally going through a difficult season of life as I struggle with PTSD and depression. This season has been ongoing for just shy of four years now. It has its own challenges because it adds to the frenetic pace of this season. Part of this is because I have been engaged in quite a lot of therapy and other supports to try to find some healing from this. Each week, I see my therapist twice by myself and once with Gray for marital therapy, my psychologist for EMDR and other help with PTSD (his area of expertise), and my spiritual director for prayer and spiritual counsel. I also have a special holy hour each week after my meeting with Fr. B. All of these things help me stay on a more even keel emotionally, but they not only take time to do, but I spend quite a bit of time in the car going from one appointment to another and back home again.

To be honest, I'm dreading the upcoming fall season of celebrations because I'm feeling tired and less than able to manage it all, but I don't have much choice. Guess I need to talk to Pendragon about ways to lessen my stress and help me get through this special season of the year. This is a strategy that I often employ when I'm feeling overwhelmed by life -- make a note of it and make it a priority to bring up in my individual or our marital therapy sessions. Pendragon always has good ideas and often is able to help me find a balance. I highly recommend that if you struggle with a mental illness, talk to your therapist or doctor about ways you can better manage the more stressful seasons of your life -- be they the end of the year holidays or other times of the year.

My prayer for this upcoming Season of Celebrations is that it is one that is full of joy and goes much more smoothly than I am anticipating!

On Faith, Being Real, and Writing

I am a Christian. More specifically, I am a Roman Catholic Christian. I realise that this doesn't come as a shock to many of you who read this and if you're halfway observant, it probably doesn't come as a big surprise even if this is your first visit to my blog (I mean the blog name is a dead giveaway).

So why am I stating this again? Because I've been wondering exactly how obvious a thing it is to those who read or glance at my blog on a regular or semi-regular basis. I don't hide my faith here, but I don't shout it from the rooftops either. It's not that I am averse to shouting about it or being bold in proclaiming it, but rather that my faith is such a deep part of me that it naturally comes to the surface when the need arises. I've always viewed it as a kind of organic thing in the writing of this blog.

My goal, when it comes to evangelisation, is to be bold when necessary, but to also be completely real. That desire to be completely real is why you don't see a scripture verse in every blog post or even something related to my faith. I don't recite scripture verses or talk about faith absolutely every time someone sees me in real life, so why would I write about it every single time I write something here in this blog?

Real life is messy, sweaty, disordered, frustrating, difficult, and complicated a lot of the time and so are most people. Yes, we can all clean ourselves up and put our best foot forward when necessary, but most of life is lived in those moments of earthiness when we're not at our best. That's why you won't see a shiny blog banner or tons of carefully crafted graphics or a professionally crafted layout where everything coordinates with everything else. It's just not who I am or what I'm about. It's not the real me.

Many of my fellow bloggers who write about faith are kind of the opposite of me and it made me wonder if perhaps my sort of organic approach to evangelisation meant that my faith was in the shadows and not as apparent as it needed to be. That's the purpose of this, I guess. I want to be sure that who I am is not getting lost in the shuffle.

To that end, I am going to try to write some more about what my faith means to me. One thing that I keep wanting to write up (for myself and to share with others) is the story of how I became a Catholic. There are other topics I want to write about too. I hope you'll read along with me as I write and leave me some comments. I'd especially love to write about any topics you've always wondered about with regard to Catholicism. If you're concerned about me or my salvation as a Catholic, feel free to let me know that and I'll do my best to write something about it.

I'll be continuing to write about mental health/illness topics as I go along, but I want to focus a bit more on faith too. If you like that I'm more laid back and organic, don't worry. I'm not changing that. I'll just be writing about faith a bit more purposefully at times.

Until next time...

Pax Christi (Peace of Christ)!

Monday Joys -- July 11, 2016

I'm a couple of days late in getting to my Monday Joys post, but when you see my list, I think you'll understand!

1. Appointment with Pendragon -- always a good thing, but a much needed thing this past week as things had been very difficult the week before. Ended on a good note as we talked about the weekend to come.

2. Voxing with my buddy Tara and hearing all about her awesome week last week.

3. The Five Minute Friday Twitter party on Thursday night -- couldn't do much chatting as I was exhausted from my day and still had stuff to do, but it's always good to see everyone even if all I do is pop in and say hi.

4. Finally had a doctor's appointment w/my regular doctor after about 14-16 months of not seeing him. I was down in my weight by 8 pounds, which he seemed pleased with and I was genuinely glad to report that I've been making some strides in improving my mental health. He ordered labs for cholesterol and I got a phone call on Monday afternoon that my cholesterol numbers were good.

5. Meeting with Fr. B for spiritual direction and prayer. He gave me a very special gift that he picked up in Rome for me. It was a third class relic of Pope St. John Paul II! I loved him even before I became Catholic and have felt a special affection and kinship with him for a long time, but that has only increased since he's been canonized as a saint. Fr. B blessed me with the relic and then gave it to me. I cried tears of joy which only increased when he told me that not only had he brought that back, but that he'd prayed for me at Pope St. John Paul II's tomb while he was in Rome. What a blessing!

6. Appointment with Dr. D for EMDR. It was a very intense appointment as we tackled one of the harder parts of my trauma memory, but I think it was a fruitful appointment. He said that he was very optimistic about my progress and about my future progress.

7. Left Friday morning for Atlanta, Georgia for a "retreat." I put that last word in quotes because although we call it a retreat, it's not a very spiritual kind of thing. It's actually a huge meetup of a group of my friends that I met online some ten years ago. We're a community of women (well mostly women, but we do have a couple of men in the group too) who all practice natural family planning (aka NFP). While a large percentage of us are Catholic, there are a number of different faiths represented from non-Catholic Christian to LDS to Orthodox Jewish as well as some women who do not profess any kind of faith at all. We live all across the USA for the most part, although we also have a number of ladies who live in Canada, and a few more who are in other countries around the world. Every two years, we have a "retreat" where we meet up in a particular city for a weekend of hanging out, talking, laughing, and getting to know one another face to face. The only really spiritual thing we usually do is that we go to the Saturday night vigil Mass together (mostly us Catholics), but even that is a fun experience. I went to my first such retreat two years ago in Kansas City, Missouri and had such a blast that I told Gray I was putting him on notice that in two years, I'd be going to wherever the next one was and to just plan on being without me that weekend. This year, I told him that I'd be going to the one in 2018 even before I left for Atlanta!

It was an amazing weekend! I met several ladies I'd wanted to meet for a long time, reconnected with ladies I met last time, and enjoyed seeing a few of them that I've gotten to know fairly well over the years (who live in my home state). I also felt incredibly loved all weekend long and so supported. That support was very important when I had a flashback on Sunday afternoon at a restaurant. I was so embarrassed by it, but the ladies were so loving, understanding, and supportive that it helped me manage that difficulty much easier than I would have if I'd been alone.

8. Ended my weekend on Monday morning when I took a quick trip to the Atlanta IKEA store after leaving the hotel. I'd never been to an IKEA before, so it was a lot of fun to walk around and see what it was all about. I also grabbed a quick bite in their restaurant before getting on the road to come home. I also bought a few things and made plans to return another day when I have more time to look and perhaps buy something bigger (like furniture) that we need.

9. Seeing my kids again after such a long weekend and being enveloped in their hugs and declarations of how much they missed me and love me.

10. The Barnyard Pimp sandwich from The Pig and The Pint in College Park, GA <--- YUM. SO much YUM! The remainder of the retreatants and I went out to dinner there on Sunday night and 4 of the 7 of us ordered that sandwich. It was marinated fried chicken, sharp cheddar cheese, bacon, avocado, and an apple butter barbecue sauce on an onion roll. As if all that weren't enough, I had their ridiculously delicious loaded mashed potatoes for a side and a Crispin blackberry pear hard cider to drink. Y'all. Just Y'ALL. It was all SO good! We decided that it was our favourite meal of the weekend.

11. Speaking of meals, Friday night's meal at the retreat was super fun too. We kinda all went different ways for dinner that night and I went with a group of seven other ladies (8 of us total) to a local Mexican place down the road from the hotel. We ordered two pitchers of margaritas (trying to be economical since we all wanted one) and although we didn't need the alcohol to turn on our laughter, it certainly increased the giggles. I only had a very small drink since I was driving and it's good that I limited myself because any more than that very small drink and I'd have been over the legal limit for sure. Those margaritas were seriously strong. One of the ladies commented, "They weren't playing around. I think they must have put a gallon of tequila in those two pitchers!" The food was very good and we all enjoyed it. We enjoyed lots of conversation -- which was punctuated with raucous gales of laughter -- along with the food. As we sat waiting for our bills at the end of the meal, we looked up and suddenly saw the staff approaching with a pair of plates and two sombreros. One of the men was carrying a pair of cymbals too. When they reached our table, they put a sombrero on one of the ladies and then put one on me! I was totally surprised! Then they put a plate of sopapilla drizzled with chocolate syrup and covered with whipped cream in front of me and my friend with the other sombrero. We looked at each other in astonishment. "Did you do this?" "No! Did you?" "No!" The entire table shook with laughter as the eight of us tried to figure out who had done this. While all of this was going on, the staff was singing, "Happy Birthday" to us while the man played his cymbals and we laughed uproariously. No one could figure out who had set this up. See, my birthday is in March and my friend's is in February, so neither of us was anywhere near celebrating our birthdays! I'm giggling just thinking about it. We had so much fun that KJ and I have declared that July 8th is, forevermore, our shared NFP birthday. On Saturday morning, one of the ladies who had heard the story of our "birthday" celebration gave both of us a "birthday" card with the inscription, "Happy NFP Birthday!" It was absolutely perfect.

With a bit of luck, next week's edition will be posted on Monday instead of Wednesday. I thought about it on Monday night, but was so tired that I decided it was probably a good idea for me to try and sleep. Then I took one more day to rest up a bit before attempting to write. I had such a great weekend that I needed a day and a half to recover!

Until next week!

Monday Joys - July 4th, 2016

My friend Tara over at Praying on the Prairie does this weekly post called Sunday Blessings where she recaps her week by counting her blessings. They can be really big things like an answered prayer or small things like a text from a friend. I've long enjoyed reading her posts and have thought about doing something similar but have yet to hit upon a way that I want to do it. Well, today being July 4th and having had a pretty good day, I got sort of reflective in my Facebook status update. As I was rereading what I'd written, it occurred to me that all of the things I had listed were little blessings. That's when it hit me that the way I want to do this is try and list my little joys each week. As I was considering this post, it occurred to me that a good reason to try to start getting into the habit of doing this each week and doing it on Mondays rather than Sundays is twofold:

• Depression and PTSD often make it hard for me to see anything as joyful, even when it is. Doing this each week may help me be more mindful as I go about my week of the times when joy shines into the cracks of my day to day life. 
• Mondays are a day that I dread for a number of reasons. I have hated them since I was a child. Mondays mean that you either have to go to school or work or if you're like me and you're a stay at home mom, it means you're alone with the kids and no adult conversation or interaction. It's often a big downer after the weekend and especially so if you've had a really awesome weekend or are coming off a fun vacation. I guess the thought is if I sort of refocus my Mondays a bit by listing the previous week's joys and blessings, that it won't be quite as onerous.

I can't promise that my list will be nearly as long as Tara's is each week, but I can promise that there will be little joys. So, without further ado, here's the first installment of Monday Joys!

1. A vox from my friend Tara - so good to hear her voice. I've been missing her!

2. A long chat with my first cousin J. We talked for a good two and a half hours! It was like old times and I can't wait to do it again.

3. My weekly spiritual direction meeting with my priest, Fr. B. This week was very hard, but Father was so patient, gentle, and compassionate with me. He also reminded me of some very important things -- one of which is that he's always praying for me, Gray, and our family.

4. Fr. B gave me a second class relic of St. Brother André Bessette! He said for me to "hold onto it", so I'm not sure if he means me to keep it for good, but even if not, I am honoured to keep it for a time. St. Brother André was known for having a gift of healing in this life and his intercession as a saint has been attributed to numerous miraculous healings and cures.

5. A 30 minute long aromatherapy deep tissue massage on Thursday following my appointment with Dr. D for EMDR. My body had been so tense from all the stresses of the week (very rough week emotionally and spiritually) that I needed to have all those knots worked out. I hadn't planned on doing it, but I think my guardian angel must have nudged me in that direction because I suddenly had the idea and knew that I just had to do it. It was AMAZING. After the massage, I had a complimentary steam shower which was such a refreshing thing in and of itself. I actually had a cool shower but enjoyed steam coming from the vents and the combination of that with the massage left me feeling so totally relaxed and calm. It was nice to feel all clean on my drive home too!

6. Panera Bread's blood orange lemonade is, quite simply, THE BOMB. I could drink it several glasses of it every single day. With the mercury in the mid to upper 90s and the humidity so heavy that you feel like you're walking through a steaming oven, it's the perfect way to help you cool off, quench your thirst, and re-energize. Yes, it's a little pricey (about $2.19-2.59, depending on size) but if you're like me and you want more than one glass, it's worth it because the refills are FREE. I highly recommend a big glass of it paired with the Green Goddess Cobb Salad with Chicken for a light and refreshing lunch or dinner when it's too hot to cook or you just want something filling, but not too heavy. I recommend the lemonade all by itself as well!

7. Hamburgers made and grilled by my hubby Gray for our 4th of July repast. I enjoyed mine with sliced tomatoes, sharp cheddar cheese, dill pickle chips, mayo and ketchup. YUM!

8. This afternoon M2 decided to put on one of the digital music channels that comes w/our satellite package. She chose "classic rock" and soon the house was filled with The Eagles, Lynard Skynard, The Beatles, Three Dog Night, and Queen, among others. She and her sisters jammed out and I grabbed our littlest girl, GB, and tried to teach her some dance moves. That evolved into her sisters wanting to dance with me too and pretty soon we were all swaying, twirling, and grooving to the beat. The best was when "Joy to the World" by Three Dog Night came on. SO much fun!

9. As it's the 4th of July, some fireworks were in order. AB had spotted some leftover fireworks from last year in our garage about a week ago and was chomping at the bit to light them off tonight. I stepped out to one of the local fireworks sellers and bought a few sparklers, some cherry snappers (those paper snaps you throw at the pavement), bottle rockets, and a package of really pretty fireworks that came with their own mortar to use for launching them. The girls had fun with the sparklers and the cherry snappers and we all enjoyed the bottle rockets and other fireworks. We also enjoyed the fireworks being set off by our neighbours down the street, around the corner, and about two streets over as they lit up the sky.

10. Dessert tonight was yummy -- store bought apple pie and vanilla bean ice cream. Simple, classically American, and just perfect!

11. Bedtime prayers tonight with my girls were a quiet kind of comfort.

12. Sitting in the grass with GB in my lap and her big sisters snuggled close while we watched the fireworks made my heart swell with love.

13. All the excitement of getting ready to see all my girlfriends this coming weekend at our every other year "retreat." I know these gals from an online community and consider many of them dear friends. It will be so wonderful to see all their faces again and hug their necks and chat and giggle until our voices are hoarse.

14. The blessing of my big brother Chez and my friend Rikert who are always so good to pray for me when I need it. I am so thankful for them both and their support.

15. The fun of the Thursday night Five Minute Friday Twitter party. I wasn't as active this week, but I always enjoy hanging with that community and chatting about our week.

16. For M2 who leaned over after communion on Sunday as I knelt crying (as I frequently do) and said, "Momma, I just had the thought that I should pray for you, so I prayed and asked God to give you some good sleep and no bad dreams. I realised that I hadn't really prayed for you like that before and that I should, so I did. I'm sorry I didn't before now." That caused even more tears as I leaned over, kissed the top of her head, and embraced her in a hug. I told her how much I appreciated that. Her sweet tender heart just bowls me over sometimes and this was definitely one of those moments.

I guess that's all for this week. With any luck, next Monday, I'll be back to do it all over again. Until then...

Update on stuff

Hey friends! This is going to be a longer update than I normally do, just to give you a heads up.

I know it's been a while since I've written in this blog, so I wanted to pop in and give a quick update. Life has been kind of stressful in the last month or so and it's made me struggle with trying to find any inspiration. It seems that occasionally I get a particular blog post idea in my head and then by the time I have the energy to get around to it, it's gone. The other thing that's been happening a lot lately is that I just never seem to have the energy to manage even opening my laptop so I can write something.

So what's going on in my world? Well, some transitions, a significant milestone, and a few other things.

The transitions are mostly to do with some changes with Gray's work schedule and how that's affecting me. It's been about two weeks since the changes went into effect and I'm still struggling to get used to it. There were some real frustrations with the changes early on as I was afraid they were going to make it worse for me with regard to what I need to do to see to my mental health (counselling, spiritual direction, and EMDR therapy), but after several conversations together with Gray, a few with Pendragon, and a few between Gray and his boss, the knot of tension in my gut that's been there for a good three weeks has finally eased.

As for milestones, well, Miss AB had her First Holy Communion on April 30th. She looked absolutely beautiful and it was such a joyful and meaningful Mass for her and our whole family. My awesome mom-in-law Balinda flew down the Thursday beforehand and stayed w/us the whole weekend. My folks came on the day along with AB's godmother (plus her hubby and 3 kids) and her godfather, who drove in from out of state. After Mass, we enjoyed the party in the parish hall and then went out to the Olive Garden to celebrate w/my folks, Balinda, and AB's godfather. It was a wonderful meal and I think everyone had a great time -- most of all AB who received a whole bunch of presents from everyone.

As for the rest, the bulk of it has been me getting ready for my trip to New York City to walk in my second Out of the Darkness Overnight Walk (click the link if you'd like to donate as I'm still working toward my goal!). I've been doing a good bit of walking at the gym and the park to get my body in better shape to actually do the walking that's going to be required. Additionally, I finally got my hotel and flight nailed down and am steadily working on the things I want to do in my limited time there that weekend. I've never been to NYC and have wanted to go since I was a kid, so this is super exciting for me. I just wish I had more than just the weekend to spend exploring and seeing all the wonderful things NYC has to offer. On my list are:

• a visit to the MoMA (to see Van Gogh's The Starry Night)
• Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral on Sunday
• cannolis to enjoy and take home from some luscious bakery in Little Italy
• pictures of as many famous sights as possible (I promised my girls I'd try to get a good one of Miss Liberty!)
• shopping to buy a few souvenirs to take home 

• and of course, walking 16-18 miles for suicide prevention from Saturday night into Sunday morning! 

I don't know if I'll be able to get it all in, but I'm definitely going to try. I learned a lot last year about the event I'm participating in and what NOT to do, so I feel much better prepared this year. I'll fly home Monday afternoon, so I won't have much time on Monday to do much of anything.

One other thing of note that has been going on of late is that with much fear and trepidation, I began seeing a psychologist, Dr. D (not to be confused with my regular therapist Pendragon), who specialises in PTSD and is trained and certified to do EMDR treatments. Given my past experiences with mental healthcare professionals, it was really hard to go to that first appointment. Gray went with me to offer support, encouragement, and took over the responsibility of filling out the requisite new patient paperwork. My stomach, back, shoulders, and arms were tied up in knots of tension and anxiety and despite Pendragon's very positive view of Dr. D, I didn't want to go through with the appointment at all. It took all I had to make myself follow him down the hall from the waiting room to his office. Once I got through that appointment, it made it a little easier the next time. I'll admit though that although I've now seen Dr. D three times, there's still a part of me which is nervous about fully letting my guard down. Overall though, it's been a positive experience.

Dr. D is a nice man, has a decent sense of humour, and seems quite concerned to make the experience of therapy as comfortable for me as possible. He's also very smart and knows a lot about PTSD in a way that Pendragon doesn't. I've already learned more about it than I knew before and given Dr. D's expertise, I now have a formal diagnosis of PTSD. I wasn't looking for a diagnosis, but now that I have one, I feel a kind of relief. That may sound odd, but one of the lies that PTSD sometimes tells you is that what you went through wasn't that bad or that you're blowing it all out of proportion. In other words, you start to feel like you're a bit crazy for feeling the way you do. Having a formal diagnosis of PTSD gives validity to the feelings I've had and the symptoms I've been experiencing and makes me feel less like I'm just crazy.

So lots of good things and a few very challenging things as well, but overall, life has been a bit better if a bit exhausting. I don't know how much writing I'm going to be doing between now and the beginning of next month, but I'm aiming to at least try and write something once a week instead of letting so much time elapse. My apologies for such a long post and my gratitude if you actually read all of this navel-gazing!

Until next time...

Five Minute Friday: Whole

It's been a few weeks since I've joined up with the Five Minute Friday community, so if this gets a little rambly, y'all bear with me, okay? I'm a bit out of practice. If you'd like to join and write something on this week's prompt word, head over to Kate's blog Heading Home and link up at the bottom of this week's post.

Whole

There are so many things I could write about with this word, but I think I'm just going to kind of ramble and pray that it all kinda melds together into one coherent thought. The first thing I thought about when I saw the prompt word is that I haven't felt whole in a long time. I think the last time I felt really, truly whole was when I was pregnant with our eldest daughter, M2. We'd been married for about six months when she was conceived and I was overjoyed at the prospect of becoming a mother for the first time. Everything seemed right in my world, in my life, and within myself. I was happy and healthy -- physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

I have struggled for most of my life with feeling broken. I've been broken because of bullying, low self-esteem, a lifetime of obesity, emotional abuse, mental illness (my own and that of close family), self-injury, suicidal thoughts and attempts, and spiritual wounds. When I met Gray and our friendship began, I was on my journey to the Catholic Church. As I went along that path, I began to see those spiritual wounds being healed and in Gray, I found a kind of love and acceptance that was a balm to many of my emotional hurts and scars. When we married, I felt a sense of wholeness that I hadn't ever thought possible -- and yet, there remained pieces of me that were broken, although I didn't see it at the time.

Those broken pieces have sharp, jagged edges that continue to cut me apart and tear at my desires to be truly whole. Despite my journey to Catholicism, I've had some of those old spiritual wound scars be reopened in the last three years by circumstances and situations out of my control. Thankfully, Fr. B, my spiritual director, has been helping me -- slowly though it seems to go -- to get at the deeper roots of those spiritual wounds so that I can find not just healing for the superficial tears in my spirit, but a deeper spiritual wholeness.

Emotionally, I am definitely a long way from whole. I've struggled mightily with this task that I felt the Holy Spirit set before me to read and meditate on the Psalms each day and write about it in this blog. Some of that is due to spiritual healing that still needs to take place, but a lot of it is that my brain and body are so tired from fighting depression constantly for the last three years that I have many days that I do good to just be awake and vertical instead of in bed.

I want to be whole again. I want to enjoy my life again. I want to have hope that I can be whole someday. Right now it's not all darkness, but what light I see at the end of the tunnel is a tiny pinprick that is so far away that I cannot fathom the distance. It might as well not be there at all as far away as it is. But that tiny pinprick is what keeps me alive. When I can see it, I can think of the possibility of wholeness. When I can't, then I can't see wholeness for anyone and all seems lost. So I focus on that pinprick of light and keep following my big brother Chez's advice to put one foot in front of the other.

Maybe one day, I'll step out of this dark tunnel and emerge through that pinprick into the light of wholeness. With my luck, that won't be in this life, but will only happen once I've shuffled off this mortal coil. I suppose there is actually truth in that statement. I mean as humans, we're all broken by sin and our broken and sinful world. We may do our best to rid ourselves of sin, but we still fall victim to the sins of others and the messed up way the world works because of the effects of original sin. The only cure for the messiness of our sin sick world and its effects on all of us is Jesus. He is with us, of course, via the Holy Spirit and in the Eucharist, but I don't think this world will get much better until He comes again. So maybe wholeness in this life is something to be sought after, but not to be received until He comes again.

I don't know. I don't have all the answers. I just know what my heart yearns for -- to be fully and completely whole in Him.

Psalm 17

I call upon You, for You will answer me, O God; incline Your ear to me, hear my words. Wondrously show Your steadfast love, O Saviour of those who seek refuge from their adversaries at Your right hand. Guard me as the apple of the eye; hide me in the shadow of Your wings, from the wicked who despoil me, my deadly enemies who surround me. (verses 6-9)

This passage from Psalm 17 is really the heart of what it's all about. The subtitle that my devotional Bible has for this chapter says "Prayer for Deliverance from Persecutors." As I've mentioned before, I don't have anyone who is actively persecuting me among the human beings on this earth, but there are definitely supernatural forces at work which seek to actively persecute, oppress, and attack all Christians.

It can be a situation where one is tempted to sin. It could also be being tempted to turn away from God totally. It could be some kind of physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual affliction that causes the Christian to fall into despair or just makes it so that they are unable to do the work God has set for them to do. In very serious cases, when a person is already dealing with a non-spiritually caused physical or psychological illness, it could even cause death if the person loses hope and neglects caring for the illness. Satan loves to kick us when were already down.

I've definitely been through that with depression and PTSD. Fr. B told me a few weeks back that he believes that my depression has both psychological and spiritual causes that are at the root of why this episode has hung on for so long. I agree with him completely. Depression is something I've dealt with for 28 years on and off in episodes, but none of the episodes has even begun to approach the intensity, severity, and duration of this one. There have been a number of other things about this episode that have been markedly different from previous ones too and looking back on those moments and symptoms, I can see a spiritual element in them.

As I've mentioned before, there has been some healing going on in both the psychological and spiritual areas of this for me. Spiritually speaking, the very fact that I don't immediately want to throw my Bible across the room upon reading the passage from Psalm 17 quoted above is quite a bit of progress. Passages like that -- that is to say, ones that are imbued with such hopefulness -- have been something that I haven't been able to stomach reading, much less actually believing, for nearly three years.

I'll be honest, as much as I can read it now, I'm still struggling to truly believe that He will hide me under His wings and keep me as the apple of His eye. I want to believe that He does hear when I call on Him, but I'm not totally there yet. There's still a part of me that snorts inwardly with disbelief upon reading passages like that. I am still very much wounded and weak. That's where trust comes in though. I have to trust -- at least cognitively -- that what His word says is true.

I'll admit, I'm still a bit of a hard sell. It's a process that involves lots of tiny steps forward and quite a few backward. Right now, as much as I want to be moving forward in that, I find that I feel as though I'm moving backward a bit. Even if, for now, it's not the direction I want to be going, at least I'm moving and that's something.

Until next time....

Pax Christi!

Psalm 16

Today's psalm is one about trusting in God. Gosh, there's that theme again. Trust in God. In this particular instance, it's about resting secure in God's protection and love. Can I be honest? I still struggle with this one. The last couple of days have been hard for me as my seemingly ever-constant companion depression has reared its ugly head. Whenever that happens, it makes it difficult to feel so secure and loved by God.

The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; I have a goodly heritage. (verses 5-6)

This is about the most true part of this psalm for me. I have chosen the Lord and the place where I dwell is pleasant inasmuch as I know the love of family and friends. I am also deeply grateful for the heritage I have from my upbringing and the faith of my ancestors who guarded and passed down the flame of faith to each successive generation. Because I have chosen the Lord, I know He will provide for me and my family and there is -- despite my struggles -- security in that.

I bless the Lord who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me. I keep the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and my soul rejoices; my body also rests secure. For You do not give me up to Sheol, or let Your faithful one see the Pit. You show me the path of life. In Your presence there is fullness of joy; in Your right hand are pleasures forevermore. (verses 7-11)

I have to admit that the past three years have made this part of the psalm harder for me. I've been plodding my way along the path, trying to remain obedient and faithful, but depression clouds my ability to hear His counsel and the nightmares definitely keep me from resting secure. The struggles with these illnesses also tend to make it harder to stand firm and not be moved.

The hardest of all, when it comes to depression and the practice of faith, is that last verse. When the darkness drags you down so low that you just want it to go ahead and swallow you whole, it makes it even harder to experience what the psalmist seems to experience so easily -- joy. I'll be honest and say that for me, joy in the Lord is something that I haven't experienced in a very long time. Even with all the spiritual healing that has taken place, joy is elusive and appears absent. Perhaps one day I will experience that joy again. I suppose I just need to trust in God and His timing.

Until next time...

Pax Christi!

Psalm 15

There are quite a few psalms that echo one another and this is one such psalm. When I first read it, a worship song called "Who Will Ascend" from my years in the Vineyard movement came almost immediately into my head. That particular song is based on Psalm 24, but as I looked at the cross reference notes, I discovered that Psalm 24 is, in part, an echo of Psalm 15:

O Lord, who may abide in your tent? Who may dwell on your holy hill? Those who walk blamelessly, and do what is right, and speak the truth from their heart; who do not slander with their tongue, and do no evil to their friends, nor take up a reproach against their neighbors; in whose eyes the wicked are despised, but who honor those who fear the Lord; who stand by their oath even to their hurt; who do not lend money at interest,  and do not take a bribe against the innocent. Those who do these things shall never be moved. - Psalm 15

The psalmist is most certainly referring to the Temple of the Lord on earth and is writing about the kind of behaviour which is expected of those who present themselves to the Lord in His Temple. Obviously, this can also be seen as a metaphor for heaven. God is, of course, omnipresent, but we are bound by our humanity to one place at a time during this life. Once we die, we exist outside of time as God does and if we have died in His friendship, then we will dwell on His "holy hill" -- that is to say, heaven -- for all eternity.

That said, looking at this list of things, it seems a bit daunting. To walk blamelessly is to live completely righteously. How on earth do we manage that one? I know I'm not nearly as righteous as I want or need to be. To do what is right is another thing the psalmist lists. Do you happen to do the right thing absolutely all the time? I know I don't. To speak the truth, not slander others, to despise wickedness (that is, sin), and to honour holiness are all part of the list and I can honestly say that I have done the exact opposite of those on numerous occasions.

So how do we get to a place where we can be blameless before the Lord when we die? The easy answer is that we must put our faith in Jesus and do everything He commands us to do in His word. The two biggest commands are to love God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength and to love our neighbour as ourselves. Neither of those is easy, but both are required. We simply cannot neglect them.

But no one is perfect and while we ought to aim for being perfect as the Father is perfect, we will fall short of that mark. When we fail Him, we must confess our failings, repent from our sin, and make a firm amendment to sin no more. As Pope Francis said, the name of God is mercy and when we come to Him, He is faithful to forgive us because of His great mercy. No matter how many times we fall off the wagon, we must turn back to Him again and again and seek His mercy. He, like the father of the prodigal son, sees us when we are far off and comes running to meet us, arms thrown wide to embrace us, forgive us, and celebrate that we are home once more.

To reach God's holy hill is a journey and one where we must daily put our faith in Him anew, confess our faults, and receive His mercy. That daily confession of our faith in Him and making amends for when we stumble is how we learn to see His face more clearly and eventually, with perseverance to the end, receive the prize for which we are striving.

Until next time...

Pax Christi!

Catching Up and Psalm 14

It's been quite a few days since my last Psalm post. I had intended to do one post each day as a part of my promise to God to read through the Psalms, write meditations on them, and post them here on my blog. If you've been following along and reading, my apologies for not keeping up better. Last week was Holy Week and with all the activity on top of the regular day to day stuff, writing these meditations kinda got shunted down toward the bottom of my priority list in favour of being able to rest properly. So, I'm back at it again, trying to do one each day. Here's my thoughts on Psalm 14.

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Psalm 14

Fools say in their hearts, "There is no God." They are corrupt, they do abominable deeds; there is no one who does good. The Lord looks down from heaven on human kind to see if there are any who are wise, who seek after God. They have all gone astray, they are all alike perverse; there is no one who does good, no not one. (Psalm 14:1-3)

"There is no one who does good." Wow. That's a kind of heavy statement. No one? All have gone astray? It paints a rather bleak picture of humanity. And as bleak as it is, I have to admit that the psalmist has it right. All of us are kinda messed up. I know I am.

I don't mean messed up in the sense of having issues or problems, but rather as in being prone to sin rather than virtue. I will echo St. Paul here: "The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners -- of whom I am the foremost." (1 Timothy 1:15) In other words, I suck and I know it. It's part of the lovely human condition that we inherited from Adam and Eve: original sin. We are washed free of the stain of that original sin in our baptism, but our concupiscence -- that is to say our basest appetites which often run contrary to what reason tells us we ought to do -- remains. It is this temptation to ignore what we know is the right thing to do that leads us into sin. It's why all of us go astray in one way or another.

Obviously the psalmist is speaking about a specific group of people he sees who are foolish enough to deny God and turn away from Him or do evil against the righteous, but I think it's particularly interesting that St. Paul references this Psalm in Romans 3. He begins that chapter talking about the Jews' special status that is promised to them by God's fidelity despite the various infidelities committed by the Jewish people throughout history. Then he goes on to say that we are all under the bondage of sin (Romans 3:9) and then references this Psalm in verses 10-12 to emphasize the point.

As I said, it sounds like a pretty bleak kind of thing to say that no one is good or does good, but it's true that we are a messed up bunch of sinners. So why try to do the right thing? Why not give ourselves over to total debauchery and depravity if nothing we do is good?

Because despite our sinfulness and inability to totally resist the temptation to sin, we who are in Christ have the gift of grace and that grace is what saves us. It is what helps us overcome temptation and choose to do good. It helps us grow in holiness on this earth so that one day, when we stand before Christ, He will judge our deeds as righteousness and say to us, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Master."

That's the goal -- to get to heaven. Part of getting to heaven is to do everything that He commands of us (Matthew 28:20) and that means cooperating with God's grace to resist sin, to do good works, and to persevere in faith until the end.

Is it easy? No, definitely not. Is it worth it? Without a doubt.

Until next time...

Pax Christi!

Psalm 13

Upon reading today's psalm there was only one thing that came to my mind. I could have very easily written this psalm word for word for word. The first four verses of it are basically every prayer I have cried out to God with in the last three years summed up pretty neatly.

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me? Consider and answer me, O Lord my God! Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death, and my enemy will say, "I have prevailed"; my foes will rejoice because I am shaken. (verses 1-4)

To me, this psalm just screams as though it's written by someone who is deeply depressed and has been for a very long time. I know that's why it resonates so powerfully with me. I think I've read this particular psalm a couple of times during the last three years, but it always bugged me because verse four wasn't the end of things. Here's verses 5 and 6:

But I trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me.

I've struggled mightily with all of the things in the first four verses and the last two verses seemed like a foreign language to me. I had gotten to such a deep dark place and had been there for so long that it's fair to say that I lost my ability to trust in God's love for me -- much less any ability to rejoice in His salvation or sing because of His generosity toward me. In fact, as for singing, I've had difficulty singing His praises until very recently. I'll be honest, those two verses still ring a bit hollow to me. I'm a work in progress -- as we all are -- and the journey of recovery and healing that I'm on is a long one. I'm seeing little victories, but there are still a lot more difficult days and mood shifts that go down than ones that go up. Perhaps one day I will be able to connect with the truth in these two verses that I know is there.

Until next time...

Pax Christi!

Psalm 12

I'm a day late with this meditation. Yesterday was a long day and by the time I got around to finally having time to sit down and actually write, my ability to think coherently was long gone. I'll admit that there was also the issue of being frustrated and not wanting to write yesterday. With each day that passes, I'm finding it harder and harder to write. It's not that the subject matter is so complicated, but I think I'm hitting a wall mentally. That and the last several days, I feel like I'm writing the same words over and over. The more I think about it though, maybe that's what I'm supposed to do.

Today's psalm is subtitled, "Plea for Help in Evil Times." You know, this was written a few millennia ago, but given the way our world seems to be at the moment, it could have just as easily been written today. It speaks to how there are so few people left who are godly in the psalmist's world. It's very easy to see how that applies to our world. You know that old saying, "the rich get richer and the poor get poorer"? For me, that is a good example of this idea. The reason the rich get richer and the poor get poorer is because of the sinfulness that so permeates our world. You can see it play out in other areas as well -- war, domestic violence, slavery, famine, the lust for power, murder, etc. With all that ungodliness going on, it's easy to see why the psalmist penned these words:

Help, O Lord, for there is no longer anyone who is godly; the faithful have disappeared from humankind. They utter lies to each other; with flattering lips and a double heart, they speak. (verses 1-2)

But those who suffer in the wake of such ungodliness -- the poor, enslaved, beaten, sick, unjustly imprisoned, etc -- are not forgotten by God. Even as the psalmist bemoans the wickedness he sees around him, he expresses his hope in God's love for those who follow him and suffer injustice:

"Because the poor are despoiled, because the needy groan, I will now rise up," says the Lord. "I will place them in the safety for which they long." (verse 5)

God does see when His children suffer and even when it seems there is no one left who follows Him, He won't leave us abandoned. He will place us in safety.

That's a hard thing to see sometimes in the thick of it. I know if someone had said to me during my trauma almost three years ago that God had not abandoned me and would place me in safety, I'd have thought they had lost their mind. Quite honestly, I would have thought that if they'd said it to me in the immediate months after the trauma. I had horrible flashbacks, the most vivid and scary nightmares I've ever had, and was mostly miserable and felt very unsafe for a long time.

Looking back on it though, I can see that while I didn't feel safe, God was holding me in a place of safety. He was loving me through others -- my husband Gray, my three sweet little girls, my big brother Chez, my friend Rikert, and many others -- and through the therapeutic skills of my therapist Pendragon. He kept me safe from myself on a number of occasions when I despaired of anyone who cared or loved me. Eventually, He also loved me through providing spiritual healing through the ministry of the Church and my spiritual director, Fr. B.

I still have moments and even whole days or weeks when I feel unsafe and abandoned, but I am beginning to know in a more powerful way that even when I feel that way, He hasn't left me drowning in the aftermath of the evil that wreaked such havoc on my life. I still have a long journey ahead of me, but I feel better able to weather the storms of this illness and this thing we call life (because goodness knows life has tons of storms even without mental illness!) than I have felt in a long time.

Until next time...

Pax Christi!

Psalm 11

As much as I love my Catholic Women's Devotional Bible, sometimes after I read the day's psalm in it, I have to go to another version to really understand the text better. Today was one of those days. Psalm 11 is just seven short verses, but it took me reading it from the NAB (which is the version that is used for the Sunday and daily Mass readings) to really understand what it was saying.

I have to say, now that I understand it, I'm definitely sensing a theme going on here: trust in God. Look at the opening verses:

In the Lord I take refuge; how can you say to me, "Flee like a bird to the mountains! See how the wicked string their bows, fit their arrows to the string, to shoot from the shadows at the upright of heart. If foundations are destroyed, what can the just one do?" (verses 1-2; NAB version)

When I first read this, it didn't make sense. The more I looked at it though, I began to realize that what it's saying is that the psalmist is in disbelief that someone would suggest that he flee. He trusts so firmly in God's protection and providence, that he finds it a bit absurd or perhaps even off-putting that someone would tell him to flee at the sight of the enemy's wickedness.

While I understand the psalmist's point of view, I understand the other side of it too. If faced with grave danger on the horizon, I'd really struggle to stand firm and trust God to take care of it all. Funnily enough though, I think many Americans feel that way about the upcoming presidential election -- no matter which side of the political spectrum they are on. There's a real sense that so many of the candidates are so awful that if one of the worst got elected that things would go downhill rapidly and intensely for the average American citizen. That's why so many people have expressed that they are looking into other countries to flee to in the event that their idea of evil happens to be elected. I remember hearing some of that kind of murmuring when President GW Bush ran for re-election and when President Obama was running the first time, but it wasn't nearly as many people as this time around and to be honest, it was mostly celebrities and political talking heads.

I'll admit, the thought of moving to another country in that event does sound a bit appealing, but not only is it completely impractical and impossible for our family, but I have to trust that God will protect me and my family no matter who gets elected. He has always provided for us and protected us before and I have no reason to believe he's going to stop now. I also know that even if the wicked prevail and rain down all kinds of evil upon the heads of those who follow God, they will eventually be held accountable for that -- even if not in this life -- and since that's not my decision to make and I can't control what they do, I leave it in God's hands.

I have to trust Him. It's a requirement for my faith, but also for my sanity. I don't have the mental or emotional wherewithal to be constantly worried about every horrible thing that may befall me because of this person or that person. I can't flee -- literally or figuratively -- from every report of the wicked's schemes. So I trust in Him and so does the psalmist, so I'll close with the final words of Psalm 11:

The Lord is just and loves just deeds; the upright will see His face. (verse 7; NAB version)

Until next time...

Pax Christi!

Psalm 10

Today's psalm reminds me so much of the book When Bad Things Happen to Good People by Rabbi Harold S. Kushner. I'll be honest that I haven't read the book, but I remember some years ago that a friend recommended it to me when I was struggling with depression and wondering why I had to suffer when there were so many others around me who were doing all the wrong things who didn't suffer.

I don't believe for a minute that I'm a good person. I'm a sinner. I'm a big, fat, grievous sinner who hurts God's heart on a daily basis. I do my best to avoid sin, but sometimes it finds me even if I'm not looking for it. Anyhow, I am far from "good" but I am trying to be good. Actually, my aim is to be perfect as the Father is perfect (Matthew 5:48). That said, I understand why my friend recommended this book. I imagine that the author probably quotes this psalm or perhaps another like it. Look at this passage:

Their ways prosper at all times; Your judgments are on high, out of their sight; as for their foes, they scoff at them. They think in their heart, "We shall not be moved; throughout all generations we shall not meet adversity." (verses 5-6)

The psalmist is talking here about the wicked. He's accusing God of being so far away that the wicked are not able to hear His judgments upon them and his proof is that the wicked are prospering in everything they do. He goes on to talk about how they persecute and prey upon the poor, curse their enemies and the like and that they have confidence that nothing ill will befall them.

How many times have you met people like this?

To be honest, there is a particular presidential candidate at the moment who seems to fit this bill. Despite all his ravings, outrageous comments, and behaviour that would earn most people a ticket to the hospital in a straight jacket -- he seems to continue to gain momentum and support like wildfire.  I confess that I am dumbfounded at times as to how on earth any sane person could possibly think he is a viable candidate for the office of President of the United States. While I'm not alone in my bewilderment over this, the sheer amount of support he seems to be garnering is frightening and makes me very scared for what could happen if he eventually wins in November. There have been times when I've wondered where God is in all of this. A couple of years ago, I would have likely thought God totally absent and deaf due to my own anger at Him, but thankfully, I've moved past that. These days I am able to say, "Lord, I can't see Your plan, but I trust in You."

The psalmist -- after he's vented his spleen about how awful things are and how the wicked prosper and while those who follow God suffer -- seems to come to the same place where I'm at these days:

But You do see! Indeed You note trouble and grief, that You may take it into Your hands; the helpless commit themselves to You; You have been the helper of the orphan. (verse 14).........O Lord, You will hear the desire of the meek; You will strengthen their heart, You will incline Your ear to do justice for the orphan and the oppressed, so that those from earth may strike terror no more. (verses 17-18)

And that's what it really boils down to in the end. Even if we can't see His plan, He really does see. He really is fighting for those who trust in Him. He really does have a plan and He is working that plan despite our inability to see it. When bad things happen to good people, the most fruitful thing we can do is trust in Him.

It's hard, I know. I've been there, done that, got half a dozen or more t-shirts. It's not your first inclination either. It may not be your second or third or two hundred and thirty third and that's okay. It's okay to be angry and tell Him. It's okay to struggle and wonder where He is in the midst of your darkest hour when He appears to be silent and nowhere to be seen. It's okay to be angry that you're struggling and trying to have faith and it seems like no matter what you do, nothing is changing or getting better. All of these things are a-okay.

Here's the challenge though -- stay the course. When you're struggling and you want to give up on God, keep putting one foot in front of the other. That sounds like stupid and ridiculously simple advice, but the image is powerful. It's something my big brother Chez said to me nearly three years ago. We were having a conversation about how hard everything was and how mad I was at God and how I wanted to just give up altogether and leave this life. After much back and forth, I told him I knew suicide wasn't the answer but I just didn't know how to go on anymore. His advice to me was to just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

After that, every time I struggled, those words and the image they evoke would come into my mind. As with most advice, it's easier said than done, but holding onto that image of just staying the course helped me hold onto sanity and reality many times. I continue to keep doing this because it's only by persevering little by little, breathing in and out, moving forward into the next moment, and staying focused on using my energy to put the foot that is behind to the front that I will ever get where I want to go.

This is especially true of faith. So put your trust in Him and when you can't see His plan or how to move forward in faith, continue to do the routine things you already do -- go to Mass or church services, pray, read scripture, engage in fellowship with your faith community -- so that you stay on the path and stay moving toward Him. Your feelings may tell You that He is far away or that You have wandered far from Him but remember, feelings are not always a good barometer of what is reality and what is a lie. You may feel far away, but He is always there and if you're making a conscious effort to at least do something to persevere in faith, He will reward your efforts in His own perfect time.

You may think I'm full of hot air, but I've been there. I've been there for a long time. In some ways, I'm still struggling with my faith and I definitely still struggle with putting my trust firmly in Him. Be encouraged that if you are struggling violently, you are not alone. The wicked may seem to be winning and God may be nowhere you can see Him, but He is with you -- and so am I. I'm praying for you, whoever you may be. If you need a friend to pray with you or encourage you, email me. Just click the link on the sidebar.

Until next time...

Pax Christi!

Psalm 9

Today's psalm is the longest one I've read thus far in this little exercise, but I know it's not the longest to come yet (Psalm 119 may have to be spread over a few days!). Given its length, I decided to take a slightly different tactic for this meditation. As I always do, I read the psalm in my Bible and then left it for a little bit. More specifically, I went and took a shower. I don't know about y'all, but I do some of my best thinking in the shower. Well, wouldn't you know it, I didn't think much about it at all. Instead, my brain went a thousand other directions. As I was coming back to it, I decided that instead of focusing on the entire psalm, I was only going to focus on a single passage from it. In this case, it's a couple of verses.

The Lord is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. And those who know Your name put their trust in You, for You, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek You. (verses 9-10)

This particular passage kinda jumped out at me because of the word "oppressed." As I said in one of my previous posts, I've been seeing all the red flags that would normally indicate demonic oppression for well over a year. Gray has said several times in the last three years that he believes that the severity and lengthiness of this episode of depression is due to some kind of attack by the enemy. Any other time I would have agreed with him, but when you're struggling amidst such heavy darkness, it's hard to see light or anything -- much less actually discern spirits.

I think another reason that he probably arrived at that conclusion was because of the drastic change in my spiritual life. It's not that I suddenly stopped going to Mass or doing the base level required stuff, but I lost my ability to connect to it, to find joy in it, and most of all, began to struggle with even wanting to do the basics. I found Mass to be emotionally tortuous at times and an especially agonising challenge most of the rest of the time. For a good portion of the last three years, I participated as a cantor (someone who sings the Psalms and Gospel Acclamation for Mass) and soloist as well as being a regular chorister. I felt like I had an obligation and that people were counting on me, so I stayed and I was honestly miserable. It got to a point where I not only dreaded Sunday mornings, but found that I had no desire to go at all. At some point, I began to feel a kind of revulsion at the idea of attending Mass and even told my big brother Chez that I just didn't want anything to do with anything of faith anymore.

Still, I pushed forward. I went through the motions week after week, month after month. I began to despair that I would never find any peace with my faith or with my relationship to God ever again. At one point, I began to question whether everything I'd always believed was really true or was just something someone made up. That was the lowest point. In that dark valley, apathy set in and the only thing that made me get up and go to Mass on Sundays or pray blessings at meal times and bedtime prayers with my children was my love for my children and my desire to be a good example of them. I wanted them to see me as someone who was struggling, but still continuing to practice her faith, so that some day when life hits them with something that causes them to be angry at God or question their faith, they'll maybe recall my example.

I don't remember what pulled me out of that low point exactly, but I know whatever it was, grace was behind it. A little less than year ago, I began seeing Fr. B for spiritual direction. That was when my faith began to change. It wasn't overnight or even after a few months. It took a good six months before I noticed anything at all. It had been happening gradually, but one Sunday evening when we'd gone to Mass, I realised that I hadn't felt so annoyed and angry. At some point after that, I had several bad weeks in a row with my depression. Given how bad things had become, Fr. B and I stepped up our meetings to every week instead of every 2-3 weeks.

I knew when I walked into the first of those weekly meetings and saw Father's purple stole, holy oil, holy water, a small hand sized Benedictine crucifix, Father's Bible, and a very worn looking small leather book that things were about to get serious. It was about to go down spiritually. That day Father heard my confession, anointed me with the Oil of the Sick for healing, and prayed prayers of deliverance over me. To say that it was intense is an understatement. As he prayed, he blessed me several times with the holy water and touched the crucifix to my head. I started bawling at some point and just kept crying and crying and crying. After he was done, I blew my nose and wiped my eyes. I wasn't sure if I felt different, but I knew that I was actually looking forward to spending some time with Jesus once Father and I parted ways.

We walked over to the church and he gave me the Eucharist and then left me to pray. I spent the next hour and a half praying, crying, praying some more, crying a lot more, and then I did something I hadn't done of my own volition in a long time -- I sang. It was just a simple Latin chant that I know and that was all I sang, but I sang. Don't get me wrong, I didn't feel great paroxysms of joy, but I sang. It was kind of a big deal. When I left, I felt emotionally lighter.

It didn't last though. That's the thing about experiencing spiritual attack or oppression. It's rarely over and vanquished in one go. I think that's because demons are kinda persistent. It's not much consolation at the time, especially if you've been suffering as long as I have, but you have to ignore that it sucks and be more persistent than the demons. So I went back the next week and the next and the next and the next. Before I knew it, Christmas was approaching and both my schedule and Father's got very busy. Then we went out of town for the two weeks surrounding Christmas and New Year's to visit Gray's family.

After Christmas, I set up another meeting with Father, but we didn't resume at our weekly pace. It was back to every 2-ish weeks. Then February hit and my mood took a serious nosedive. We stepped up our meetings again and Father continued to pray both deliverance and other prayers over me, hear my confession, anoint me, and give me the Eucharist. I continued to spend an hour or so after meeting with him to pray and talk to Jesus. Somewhere toward the end of the month, something significant happened. I didn't see it at the time, but Father did. He had told me earlier in that meeting that he really believed that my depression had both psychological and spiritual causes. I halfheartedly agreed with him in the moment, but was still clinging to not wanting to see oppression where it was clearly present.

After that meeting, my mood improved and I found I had more energy emotionally and physically. I found that I was actually enjoying some things, laughing more often, being less grouchy with my children, and that I was looking forward to things in the future in a way I hadn't before. It took another week for me to make the connection between how I was feeling and the spiritual side of my depression.

It's been about three weeks since that happened and although I've had some bad days, my mood has been more or less at the same level. I'm not joyful or what I'd call happy, but this feels different. I told Gray today that I'm starting to feel more like myself. I've been wondering in the last couple of weeks if how I'm feeling means that I'm turning a corner with the depression. I've been very nervous about even thinking that because I've experienced such disappointment in the past when I thought things might be getting better, but today, I found a kind of peace about it. Whether or not this is a harbinger of good things to come, I don't know, but I'm accepting it for what it is for right now.

So why the long story? Because at some point in all this mess, I realized in a very palpable way that I was definitely being oppressed and that motivated me to put my trust ever more firmly in the Lord. In some ways, I think my insistence on not believing that it was oppression protected me in a way. I needed to find my way back to God, to have some healing take place in that relationship, to let go of a lot of the anger before I could be in a place where I could call my God my stronghold and actually believe that He wouldn't forsake me in my time of trouble.

The other thing that I realized as I read this verse is that despite my anger, despite how far from Him I ran, I was still looking back over my shoulder at Him and trusting Him on a certain level. My stronghold was in Him all the time, but I just didn't know it. That obedience and that desire to have my children see some better example about faith in me, that was my trusting in Him to not abandon me (even though I felt abandoned). The reality is that He didn't and He won't and that is what I must cling to when all seems lost.

Until tomorrow....

Pax Christi!

Psalm 7

This is an interesting one today. My subtitle reads: "A Plea for Help against Persecutors." It kinda made me stop and think about persecution in the psalmist's day and modern day persecution. In the psalmist's day, it was persecution from armies and governments and even occasionally very powerful individuals. In some parts of our modern world, things are not so different than in the psalmist's day. I'm thinking in particular of the Christians who have been martyred by the radical factions that seem to be taking over parts of the Middle East. I'm also thinking of those who have been enslaved for the sex trade or by drug traffickers. I also think of those who are being persecuted through the corruption of governments who would rather their people live in squalor and extreme poverty than do right by them.

By comparison, we in the western world suffer little to no persecution -- at least not by those of flesh and blood. Much of the persecution we face is from the evil one. He uses spiritual attacks and oppression, but the biggest and most effective tool that he has to persecute us is one that most people never consider -- us. He uses us against ourselves. He tempts us with promises of wealth, prosperity, safety, comfort, health, and freedom and he makes those things look very attractive to us. I think the psalmist was on to this idea:

O Lord my God, in You I take refuge; save me form all my pursuers, and deliver me, or like a lion they will tear me apart; they will drag me away, with no one to rescue. O Lord my God, if I have done this, if there is wrong in my hands, if I have repaid my ally with harm or plundered my foe without cause, then let the enemy pursue and overtake me, trample my life to the ground and lay my soul in the dust. (verses 1-5)

Do you notice how uncertain the psalmist is that he will be rescued? This isn't because he lacks trust in God. It's because he knows himself and knows that if he hasn't reconciled himself to God through the admission of his sins that his sinfulness will be turned against him. That's what we call letting Satan get a foothold. In the case of the psalmist, he's battling against flesh and blood, but he still acknowledges that holding onto sin and not repenting of it is just asking for trouble. In the next couple of verses, he begins his request, but once again, he acknowledges that sin and wickedness have no place with a follower of God and that God is just in His judgements:

The Lord judges the peoples; judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness and according to the integrity that is in me. (verse 8)

We wrestle with sin and wickedness every day and if we are honest with ourselves, we fail on a daily basis and often, we are not even aware of it. Why is that? It's because we all have our little pet sins. Things that we don't even think about as being sinful. Most of us can honestly say that we're not guilty of murder, but what about unwarranted anger or holding onto grudges against others? What about a little road rage? Ever lash out at someone online? No, none of these are murder, but they do fall under the heading of being uncharitable toward your neighbour. Jesus said that we're to love our neighbour as ourselves. Full stop, period. the end. He didn't put qualifiers on that command. He said love your neighbour and as we know, that means everyone. Why? Because He loves everyone and we are meant to be His face, hands, and feet, sharing His love with the world around us. The reason I mention this one is that it's one that, try as I might, trips me up too.

You see, when we begin to fail in these little things, they make it easier for Satan to tempt us into other, bigger, more serious sins. Don't get me wrong, ALL sin is bad, but some sins have a destructive power that destroys not only the one who commits it, but others around that person. When we neglect the little sins, we weaken our ability to resist the bigger ones. That's one of the ideas behind giving up something that we really enjoy during Lent. It helps strengthen our resolve to resist temptation in all its guises. Put it this way, if I can't even resist a chocolate bar -- which is something small -- how on earth will I be able to resist something more enticing?

The other thing about falling victim to the little sins and not being aware of them is that we begin to change how we think about the bigger sins. We begin to rationalize them and perhaps even formulate intellectual arguments to support why they are okay and why God's way is not. We start to surround ourselves with people who regularly engage in these sins and find no fault in them. Before we know it, we may find ourselves in so deep that we lose our ability to see the way out or even realize that we need to get out. When we reach this state, that is when Satan has really used us against ourselves and the consequences of our failure to resist these temptations is a punishment all of its own. The psalmist chalks it up to God's wrath, but also acknowledges that those who sin fall into punishment without any help from anyone. Look at these verses and you'll see what I mean:

If one does not repent, God will whet His sword; He has bent and strung His bow; He has prepared His deadly weapons, making His arrows fiery shafts. See how they conceive evil, and are pregnant with mischief and bring forth lies. They make a pit, digging it out, and fall into the hole that they have made. Their mischief returns upon their own heads, and on their own heads their violence descends. (verses 12-16)

St. Paul says in Romans 1:24 that the people of God grew so wicked that God gave them over to the lusts of their hearts. The way I've always read that is that God created the natural law and that the Israelites -- who knew better -- turned their backs on this natural law which was inscribed on their hearts by God, so He gave them up to the natural consequences of their wickedness and rebellion. It wasn't so much that God reached out His hand and smote the Israelites, but rather that He allowed their wickedness to catch up with them because they not only refused to turn away from it, but even gave approval to sin and evil.

So if we do not want Satan to use our own flesh to persecute us, what do we do? 

As a Catholic, one thing I do is try to get to Confession as often as possible. Not only are there graces that come from that sacrament, but one of the many benefits of it is that the process makes me more aware of all the little ways that I sin each day. Prior to going to confession, I usually do what's called an examination of conscience. For those of you who don't know, it's basically where you think about your life in a critical way and make a list of the sins you want to confess.

One simple way to go about it is to use the 10 Commandments as a guide. You take each commandment and think about the ways that you might have broken that commandment and if you find one, write it down. Once you have your list, you go into the confessional and confess them to God in the presence of the priest. There is something about having to say it out loud to another person that makes you much more aware of it and helps you think twice about it when you feel tempted to that sin again. I think it's especially helpful if you have a habitual sin that you're trying to break free of. I know it's helped me with one that I'm working on.

If you're not Catholic, you can still do an examination of conscience to help you really pinpoint those places where you struggle. Ask the Holy Spirit to enlighten your heart and mind and make you aware of those things you need to seek God's forgiveness for and to help you see those sins you commit which you may be blind to seeing. Then make your list and confess it before God, asking His forgiveness and help to keep you from further sin. If you have someone that holds you accountable, reading your list to them so they can pray for you and hold you accountable is a very good idea.

A very good practice for Catholics and non-Catholics alike is to do a brief examination of conscience at the end of each day before going to bed, to list your sins for the day, and ask God's forgiveness. I have to admit that I've never really been in the habit of doing that, but I need to get in the habit. So yay, something I've learned in writing this uber long meditation!

If you're reading along with these psalm meditations, I promise that tomorrow's will be lighter and less doom and gloom. Until then...

Pax Christi!