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.

Psalm 6

All the psalms in the Bible that I'm using have a short phrase that was added by the editors which gives you an idea of what the psalm is about. Today's psalm subtitle is: "Prayer for Recovery from Grave Illness." That actually makes a lot of sense to me as this psalm has been one that I've felt effectively expresses much of what a person of faith may feel emotionally when going through a grave illness. In particular, it resonates with my experience of going through depression.

But depression isn't a grave illness, right? Actually the statistics say otherwise. In the United States alone, some 42,000+ people die by suicide and the biggest risk factor for suicide is mental illness. Given that depression is one of the most common mental illnesses in this country, it's not a big stretch to say that it's likely the illness behind many of those deaths each year.

Even if you don't wrestle with thoughts of suicide though, depression can weigh you down so much that it feels as though you're so deep in the blackness of it that you might as well be six feet under. Those intense emotions of sadness, heartache, numbness, loneliness, and despair are at the heart of the psalmist's prayer to God in Psalm 6:

Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing; O Lord, heal me, for my bones are shaking with terror. My soul also is struck with terror, while You, O Lord -- how long? (verses 2-3)

I have absolutely felt every bit of this in the last three years. I've even said to both Gray and Pendragon that I feel as though I'm wasting away, little by little. When the depression gets so dark that I cannot see anything light, there is a kind of terror there that resides deep within my bones.

I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. My eyes waste away because of grief; they grow weak because of all my foes. (verse 6-7)

If I could somehow summon every tear that I've ever shed because of depression, I imagine there would be enough to fill the several gallons. In the last three years alone, I've shed enough tears that there have been many occasions when I thought I would dehydrate myself from crying. I have wept so much that I have moaned and howled with the ache of it. I know that sounds like I'm being dramatic, but it's the truth.

When the emotional pain you feel is as intense as mine has been, you may find yourself at a place where you just can't vent anything with sobbing alone. I'd never had the experience of such intense crying until I lost my ability to cry for several months at the beginning of this depressive episode and eventually had the dam burst in Pendragon's office one day. Since then, I've had quite a few dam bursting moments. The second part of this passage always seems so perfectly written to me: "My eyes waste away because of grief; they grow weak..." I have often felt after a long spate of crying that I feel a great weakness around my eyes, almost to the point of heaviness. I think that might account for how sleepy I often feel following a good cry.

The Lord has heard my supplication; the Lord accepts my prayer. (verse 9)

I think this verse is the hardest for me at times. All the struggles I've had with my faith have shaken me and made it all the harder to pray this verse and believe it. To be honest, there have been times when I have struggled so much with belief that the only prayer I could manage was, "Help. Oh, help." and this out of desperation, more than belief. In moments when the darkness was less heavy, I have prayed "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief." (Mark 9:24) I know intellectually that God hears my prayers and that He accepts them, but given His silence and my inability to connect with His Presence, that intellectual belief offers cold comfort.

Still, because Truth is reality and I have always believed in Truth -- even when I didn't fully understand it -- I keep praying. Also, I know that despite my lack of connection with Him, He is doing things. I still don't like feeling like I'm in the dark and that He is nowhere to be found, but I see the traces of His touch on my soul from time to time. And that is enough.

+ O Lord, I offer this psalm up to You as a prayer from one who has been through the darkest of valleys and still breathes. When the heaviness of this illness lays waste to my ability to see You or believe that You are there, I pray "O Lord, I love. Help my lack of love. O Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief. O Lord, I hope. Help my lack of hope." Jesus, I trust in You. Amen. +

Psalm 5

To be honest, I struggled today with this psalm. It's not that it's difficult to understand, but I just didn't know what to say about it. I'm not terribly sure that I know now what I'm going to say, but I'm starting to think that this isn't about saying something meaningful, so much as a lesson in humility and obedience. I'm not sure why I need these lessons, but perhaps over the course of the next 145-ish days, I'll figure it out.

Today's psalm is one of the many lamenting psalms. Again, we see more contrast between the righteous and the wicked. It is also a psalm where the writer is beseeching God for deliverance from his enemies. When I was telling Gray earlier tonight about how I wasn't sure what to do with this one, I mentioned the subject of enemies and commented that I don't think I really have enemies. I mean, maybe I do, but I can't think of any right off the top of my head.

This isn't to boast about how awesome I am, just a statement of fact. I try my very best to get along with everyone I meet. It's both something I feel like I'm called to do (you know, that whole "love your neighbour" thing) and also because I'm at a point in my life where I just don't have the patience for drama from grownups. I have more than enough kid/tween drama without anything added to it. Gray gave me a significant look and suddenly I realized -- I do have enemies. Not of flesh and blood, but of spirit.

You destroy those who speak lies; the Lord abhors the bloodthirsty and deceitful. (verse 6)

The enemies of spirit are most adept when they manage to convince you that a lie is the truth. In particular, my enemies use not only lies of their own creation, but they use the depressive thoughts in my head -- which are the result of my own inner Gollum, as my blogger friend Matthew puts it -- to convince me that I know something to be true when it is not. These deceptions are indeed bloodthirsty as they have many times resulted in my contemplating, nearly attempting, and even attempting suicide.

The truth is that these enemies will be destroyed. Perhaps not now, perhaps not tomorrow, but eventually, because they are the antithesis of God's infinite goodness, they will meet their destruction. St. Paul reminds us that these enemies will be destroyed when he says, "The last enemy to be destroyed is death." (1 Corinthians 15:26) But how can one survive such enemies and find deliverance?

But I, through the abundance of Your steadfast love, will enter Your house, I will bow down toward Your holy temple in awe of You. Lead me, O Lord, in Your righteousness because of my enemies, make Your way straight before me. (verses 7-8)

To me, this imagery is so potently Catholic -- entering the house of the Lord, bowing before His temple, being in awe of His Presence. It also makes me think of the great graces to be had from the Sacraments. Those graces are what enable us to "endure to the end" that we might be saved (Matthew 24:13). They help us to see clearly the path of righteousness where God is leading us.

I have seen firsthand the power of the Sacraments and the graces which pour forth from them. Almost three years ago, I endured a trauma so powerful that it all but ripped my faith from me. Anger and bitterness toward God and a sense of abandonment by Him so intense that I began to question the deepest foundations of my faith plagued me for close to two years. I continued to go to Mass, confession, and pray bedtime prayers and mealtime blessings, but my heart was absent from all of it. There was a deep aching pain that accosted me whenever I began to think of God or even things of faith, so I tried very hard not to think about them. When I couldn't get away from them -- like at Mass -- I would often lose all control and burst into tears or else feel so overwhelmed that I just shut down into a numbness that was, itself, destructive.

At some point, about two years post-trauma, I began to see Fr. B. for spiritual direction. Knowing how severe and intense my depression was and the fact that I was struggling so mightily with my faith, he began by hearing my confession and giving me the Anointing of the Sick. Eventually, he began giving me the Eucharist and combined with the other two sacraments, created what I've come to call "The Trifecta." Then he put the graces of those sacraments to work by giving me a very specific penance. He told me to "go spend some time with Jesus in the tabernacle in the church." I wasn't prepared for that and wasn't really enthused about it the first time. What would I say to Him? I was still so angry and I told Fr. B that. He replied, "So tell Him you're angry. He can take it. It might do you some good." And then he walked with me over to the church from the rectory and gave me a blessing before leaving me alone in the quiet of the empty church.

I very nearly left in the first two minutes, but I didn't. I sat there through my discomfort and pain and told myself that I'd stay just 10 minutes and then go. At some point during that 10 minutes, those graces of the Sacraments started working on me. I didn't want to talk to Him or pray or anything, but I found myself doing just that. It started with a less than heartfelt Our Father and eventually moved into me unleashing all of my anger, bitterness, and every negative and destructive emotion I'd ever had onto Him. The tears began to flow at some point and then I found that I couldn't stop crying. A few tears turned into a full-on ugly cry (you know the one where you get blotchy red faced, faucet nosed, and an ugly grimaced expression). That sobbing progressed to a kind of gasping howl.

I don't know how long I cried that first day, but after a while, my sobs subsided and I sat in silence, not knowing what to do with myself as I wiped my face and nose. My eyes lit upon the hymnal in the pew and I turned to the old Latin hymn Tantum Ergo and began to chant it. It was the first time I'd felt any desire to sing in months. As I sang the last few notes, the church bells began to chime the noon Angelus. It was only then that I realised I'd been there not just 10 minutes, but -- to my shock -- a little over an hour! I prayed the Angelus prayers as a kind of benediction and then left. As I staggered to the car, feeling a bit weak and tired, I realized something had happened. I wasn't sure exactly what to make of it, but I knew that I felt lighter than when I'd arrived.

I've repeated this process several times and Fr. B has also prayed deliverance prayers over me as well. All of these sacramental graces have been acting like a kind of healing balm to my faith. There's still work to be done in that area and I still wrestle with anger at God, but I know that much of that has gotten better. I didn't really realise that until just recently. It's been a very slow process and I still have my doubts at times. I still feel abandoned and weak in my faith. I still feel fear at the prospect of declaring that I have hope for recovery for not just my faith but my depression too. That last one is a big one. That said, I do know that God is with me -- even if I sometimes have doubts about that -- and I know that He has promised to protect me and help me if I turn to Him. This promise is echoed in the final words of Psalm 5:

But let all who take refuge in You rejoice; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, so that those who love your name may exult in you. For You bless the righteous, O Lord; you cover them with favour as with a shield. (verses 11-12)

Psalm 2

With all the election year political stuff in the news lately, people are pretty stirred up. Many are very concerned about how this election is going to turn out and what that result may mean for our country. In particular, it seems that everyone is concerned about at least one particular candidate who is diametrically opposed to their own personal beliefs. This is true for both ends of the political spectrum and for everyone in between. We as a nation are in many ways quite divided as to who we'd like to lead us for the next four years.

I'll be honest that I have my own concerns and feel that, sadly, they are indeed valid. It feels to me like very dark days ahead for our country if the candidate that I am worried about gets elected. In fact, it frightens me on a certain level. I am trying very hard to trust in God's providence and leave it in His hands, but given how inundated we are in this internet information age with every little thing about every single candidate, I get overwhelmed and fall back to worrying instead of trusting.

Today's psalm reminded me that God really is in control, no matter what happens. Even if Satan plans the outcome for our destruction, God is still in control. Psalm 2 is one of the psalms which points to the Messiah who is to come. In verses 7-9, the psalmist writes this:

I will tell of the decree of the Lord: He said to me, "You are my son; today I have begotten you. Ask of me, and I will make the nations your heritage and the ends of the earth your possession. You shall break them with a rod of iron and dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel."

The rod of iron dashing them to pieces is referenced in Revelation 2 where John is speaking about the Messiah. So who are the people who will be dashed to pieces? Earlier in this chapter, the psalmist speaks about nations who conspire, peoples who plot, kings and rulers who set themselves and take counsel together against the Lord and His anointed one (verses 1 and 2). He says that the Lord will speak to them in His fury (verse 5) because of this and terrify them by telling them of the coming Messiah who will rule them with a rod of iron. This chastisement is meant to serve as a means of causing them to turn from their wickedness and disobedience and turn toward the Lord to serve Him and worship Him. Verse 12 warns them against disregarding this correction and says that those who do not heed it will perish.

Look again at what it says these kings and peoples are doing. They're conspiring, plotting, taking counsel together, and setting themselves against the Lord. Sounds an awful lot like some of the politicians in our country who will do and say absolutely anything to get elected and will do and say anything to stay in power -- even if it means turning their backs on what is good and true and right. But according to the psalmist, despite what these kings and peoples are doing, the Lord is still in control. He is still King and when time comes to its end, He will rule over all the nations and those who have turned from Him will answer for that.

Now understand that I don't for a minute believe that God is going to smite American politicians during this election season or even after the general election in November. I mean, I know He could do it, but I don't think it's even remotely likely given that He doesn't really need to actively punish them as they do a pretty good job of it themselves. I guess what I'm saying is that even if things go absolutely pear-shaped this November, God will sort it out in His own good time.

You see, He's got the bigger picture. He sees so much more than we can. That's why I'm trying to very hard not to worry about what will happen with this election. I'm actively trying to keep my focus on Him and trust that He knows what He's doing. My goal is heaven and achieving that goal is not in any way dependent upon who gets elected as the next POTUS. That said, part of achieving my goal is to educate myself about the candidates, pray for God's wisdom to guide me, and then cast my vote for the person who I believe most closely aligns with what is good, true, and right (or not cast my vote if there is no one that I may vote for in good conscience). I'm also praying for our country and for each voter to be led by the Holy Spirit. It's not much, but it helps me remember that He sees the bigger picture and that my trust should be in Him. These things also bring me a greater amount of peace too and that makes sense because the last verse of Psalm 2 says this:

Happy are all who take refuge in Him.

Until tomorrow...pax vobiscum!

A Little Housekeeping

Hi friends! Just wanted to give you a quick heads up that while I'm going to be continuing to talk about mental health and fandoms and the like, over the next few months, I am going to be doing quite a few entries on faith. This isn't a promotion or a series (although it may wind up looking like one), but just to let you know that I'm veering a little bit more toward talking some about faith.

The reason I'm telling y'all this is that I need some accountability. As usual, I spent over an hour in the presence of Jesus in the tabernacle after my meeting with Fr. B this week. I spent it offering prayers for many people I know who have needs, praying for healing for me, and just being silent before His Majesty. When I pray like this, I find that I get little gentle nudges from the Holy Spirit throughout my prayer time directing me how to pray. It's like I'm somehow a bit more open to His leading in the quiet of the church. One of the things that I have felt led to do many times is lie prostrate as I'm praying.

Yesterday was one of those days when I felt led to lie prostrate and pray. As I was praying, the words of the prophet Samuel "Speak Lord, for your servant is listening" went through my head and so I offered that up as a prayer and then lay silent, listening and waiting to see if the Holy Spirit would nudge me or speak to me in some way. And so He did. I don't hear audible words, but the nudge of the Holy Spirit was very, very clear and very very strong. What I felt Him commanding me to do is to meditate on the Psalms each day. Start at the beginning and read one each day. I agreed readily enough and then there was another strong nudge. Write about it each day and put it in the blog. I agreed, although with some trepidation. Still, I agreed, so here I am, about to start.

Would y'all help keep me accountable? This is a big task and I'm, quite honestly, a bit scared. I feel like this is a LOT that is being asked of me, but I've never refused the Holy Spirit and I'm not about to start now. I know for a fact that obedience to His nudges always winds up with me reaping some good from it, so it's to my benefit to be obedient. Please pray for me. I need prayers not only for the task ahead, but also for the strength to persevere. I know He wouldn't have asked this of me if I was unable to do it, but this isn't going to be easy.

Thanks everyone! God bless you!

Five Minute Friday: Quiet (or is it Silence?)

I'm linking up with Five Minute Friday over at my friend Kate Motaung's blog, Heading Home. No, I didn't do this in five minutes, but that's because I learned that five minutes is just not enough for me. So I do Five Minute Fridays my own way. 

Today's prompt is QUIET and I thought I knew what to write, but it just didn't come exactly. This post is something I wrote but didn't publish a few months back. The prompt word is in the post, although it was initially written using a different prompt word which has the same meaning. Confused? Yeah, I know. Me too, friend. Me too. Want to join the FMF party and link up a post of your own? Check out the links in this paragraph for more info, write your post, publish it, and then go to this week's linkup and add your link! Easy peasy!

So without further ado, my post for this week...

****

 

I didn't do the Write 31 Days challenge as I had planned this year, but this post was written using the one of the prompts that my friend Kate Motaung had on her list of prompts for her series 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes. I didn't write this in five minutes, but the prompt spoke to me and reminded me of a memory which I've recalled below.

2009

There is a hushed quiet here. Not even the fluorescent lights hum. The night outside is long since dark and getting darker as the wee hours approach. I am sitting once again in the perpetual adoration chapel of one of the local parishes in our diocese. It is a 30 minute or so drive from our home, but the distance is worth it.

It is here in this absolute silence that I am finding the strength to stay alive.

I come here to the chapel at this hour -- 10:00pm on Sunday night -- to adore Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, to pray, to pour out my heart to Him, and to drink in the silence of this place which is such a 180 degree difference from the chaotic noise of family life. Over these past several months I have been coming here to renew and re-anchor my spirit so that I can fight through another week. I am a committed adorer. That is to say that I have signed up with this parish and committed to come each week at this time and spend an hour with Jesus. There is a married couple who share my hour, but they too enjoy the silence and while we wave to one another or say a brief, "hello" our words are few and the silence is plenty.

It is here in this place that I come to kneel at His feet and adore Him alone. It is here in this place that He meets me and through the silence speaks peace and love back to me. Each week I drink in this quiet and His voice and His face.

Until tonight. Tonight I come as normal and after the adorer before me leaves, find myself totally alone. The couple who shares my hour are out of town, so it is just me and Jesus. The silence is made complete and in it, despite His Presence before me in the Blessed Sacrament, I am struggling to hear Him or see Him. This week has been more than a fight and I have come to this place with fresh cuts on my skin, my emotions raw and ragged, and a head full of darkness. I have come to ask His forgiveness for what I am about to do. But the words don't come and all that comes out is me kneeling and crying aloud, my sobs and wails breaking the silence. There are no words for all that I feel and all I know to say to Him is, "Please Jesus... please... please... please..." Over and over again, my prayer goes up, begging His mercy on me.

As the hour slowly comes to a close, I dry my tears and gaze upon Him in silence as I wait for AB's godfather to come and relieve me. He is a committed adorer too and has the hour after mine. When he enters, I say hello quietly and instead of answering when he asks how I am, I gaze one final time upon His face as I genuflect and make the sign of the cross and then leave in silence.

The car is quiet but for the thoughts racing through my head. The tears that fell so swiftly during the last hour threaten to come again, but don't. The numbness has set in and I am driving away from the chapel and trying to think of where to go and what I need to accomplish the task of ending my life. I drive down the street, my hands and feet going through the motions independent of my brain. Just two blocks from the church, I approach a red stop light and my foot makes the car stop. As the car stops, I am suddenly thunderstruck by what I can only describe as a powerful gut punch in my spirit.

"Come back."

What? My brain stops racing and my heart begins pounding. I look up and the light is still red.

"Come back to Me."

I swallow hard and suddenly feel as though I can hardly breathe. What??

"Come back to Me."

Lord? No, this is madness. I look up at the light again. Why is it still red? There's no traffic coming the other way.

"Come back. Come back to Me."

I can't, Lord. I can't do this anymore. Please don't make me do this anymore... I gaze at the light in a panic. Still red.

"Come back to My Presence." 

Gulp. I am shaking all over, my heart racing and breaths shallow and quick. I am surely losing my mind completely. I'm at a red light, for crying out loud! But the powerful gut punches to my spirit keep coming. The light turns green, but I can't move. I sit there frozen and overwhelmed, my brain's former path toward destruction now derailed and confused.

"Come back to Me."

Okay, Lord...help me Jesus...please... My hands fumble with the steering wheel, but I eventually manage to turn off on a side street and turn around to go back.

When I enter the chapel, I drop to my knees on the closest kneeler and sob aloud, not caring that AB's godfather is trying to pray or that I am meant to be silent. I am so caught up in this moment of pouring my heart out to Him, that I don't even hear AB's godfather get up and come to kneel beside me until I feel his hand on my shoulder. I look up and see that he is praying. He says quietly, "I've been praying for you since you left..." and that unleashes another torrent of tears. He hands me a box of tissues and when I've finished cleaning my face, we pray together in silence and somewhere amidst those prayers, the idea of ending my life fades to a more manageable distance.

After his relief arrives for the next hour, we stand outside the chapel under the silence of the darkened sky and talk about what has been going on with me. He asks if I am going home and I say yes. Then we hug goodbye and he says he'll keep praying for me and for Gray too.

I drive the 30 minutes back to our house, turning over the events of the last couple of hours in my mind. The car is quiet and I find that I am grateful for gut punches that come amidst the silence.

Meditating on Advent -- Day 3

Today's Gospel: Luke 10:21-24

"Turning to the disciples in private, he said, 'Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I say to you, many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.' " (verses 23-24)

Have you ever had difficulty seeing or hearing something? I know for me, seeing things is sometimes very difficult because I am severely nearsighted and have an astigmatism in both eyes. It's not normally a big deal though because I have glasses which correct my vision so that I can see clearly. In fact, those glasses are such a big help that I really only take them off when I sleep or when I'm going to shower. Without them, everything is fuzzy -- even if I squint. I am incredibly grateful that my glasses give me eyes to see clearly.

Seeing clearly what God wants me to see is sometimes more difficult. Some things are obvious. Seeing that He loves me, that I'm supposed to love Him with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, and that I'm supposed to love my neighbour as myself. Those are easiest to see because Scripture plainly spells those things out and all I need do is open my Bible and read. What is hard to see sometimes is how much God loves me and how best to love Him and my neighbour. Sometimes it's hard to see where He is leading me or what His plan is.

I think the reason for this is because I live in the world and I get distracted. Like right now as I'm writing this, my youngest GB is watching Go, Diego Go! on TV and as it's after 3pm, I know my two biggest girls will be getting off the bus soon and charging through the door. Those two things are a distraction to my focus on this blog post. Those are just the little things. The world is so full of problems and pain and I think we often get distracted by all the horrible heart-wrenching things going on and we lose our ability to see Him and to see what He wants us to see amid all the distractions.

One of the things that I think He wants us to see during this Advent is that we need to slow down and wait. Advent is a time of waiting, you know. It's so easy though to get distracted by all the Christmas decorations and lights going up around us, the shopping for presents, the cooking, the card writing, and all the many things we do to ready our homes and hearts for Christmas, that we lose sight of Advent altogether. We lose our ability to see the importance of waiting, anticipation, stillness, silence, and the darkness of the night that came before the dawn of the Incarnation. We are so preoccupied with "Away in a Manger" that we forget "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." 

Our modern need to make all of December into one big Christmas celebration blinds us to the disciplines of waiting and stillness and the joy that can be found in these things. There is a phrase that is part of the Liturgy of the Eucharist during the Mass which follows the Our Father that says: "As we await the blessed hope and coming of Our Saviour, Jesus Christ." In the context of the Mass, we are, of course, talking about the Second Coming, but I think it's appropriate in this season of Advent and something good to meditate on a bit. 

If we can stop a bit each day, slow down and still our minds, we can have our eyes opened anew to the joy that comes with waiting on the coming of the Word Incarnate. In these moments of reflection, we can have our vision restored so that we may see as the disciples did and hear His Voice calling us while we anticipate His arrival.

Meditating on Advent -- Day 2

Today's Gospel: Matthew 4:18-22

"As Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee, He saw two brothers, Simon who is called Peter, and his brother Andrew, casting a net into the sea; they were fishermen."

Today is the Feast Day of St. Andrew the Apostle*, so we get a reading about his call to follow Jesus in today's Gospel. It's a short passage and doesn't tell us much about Andrew except that he was a fisherman and that, along with his brother Peter, he left his nets at once and followed Christ.

At once. I think that's really amazing. Can you imagine if you were just going about your day to day life, hard at work at your job and Jesus suddenly walks in the door and says, "Follow me"? I think most of us, if we're being honest, would say that we'd be shocked initially and then after a moment or two, we'd ask Jesus for a few minutes or hours or days to get our lives squared away before coming with Him. I'm a stay at home mom of three girls who need me to supervise them and help them with things all the time while my husband is away at work. If Jesus walked in and suddenly wanted me to come with, I think it would be awfully hard to go "at once" and not want to take some time to call someone to look after my kids, pack a bag, and get all the hugs and kisses I could before I left.

But that's what we're called to do, isn't it? Go when He calls us. He calls all of us in one way or another. My vocation -- or calling -- is to the married life and motherhood. Jesus called me to that when I was a small child. But just because I have accepted that calling and I've followed Him into it by marrying and having children doesn't mean that He ceases to call me. He continues to call me in my day to day life to die to myself and to love others more like He does. That's a hard one for me sometimes. He has also put in my heart a new calling in the past year and that's to educate others about mental illness and suicide prevention. To become an advocate for those who struggle to advocate for themselves and who don't know how to get the help they need. That calling has been a very hard one for me to accept and follow, but I'm doing my best.

I think a good thing to do as we go through this Advent season is ask Him anew to reveal to us how and where He is calling us, to look again at our current calling and seek ways we can better fulfill those callings in obedience to Him. In doing this, we continue the process of readying our hearts for the celebration of Christmas and we better prepare ourselves to be ready when He comes again.

How is He calling you to come and follow Him?

*Since today is St. Andrew's Feast day, I thought I'd include this little prayer for Advent that is often referred to as the Saint Andrew Christmas Novena. It's a prayer that is meant to focus our hearts on the coming of Christ at Christmas and to ask God to grant a particular request in honour of the birth of His Blessed Son. If you're interested in more information, click the link.

Hail and blessed be the hour and moment in which the Son of God was born of the most pure Virgin Mary, at midnight, in Bethlehem, in piercing cold. In that hour vouchsafe, O my God, to hear my prayer and grant my desires, through the merits of Our Saviour Jesus Christ and of His Blessed Mother. Amen.

Meditating on Advent -- Introduction and Day 1

Technically speaking, Advent began yesterday, but as I only got this idea today, I hope you'll forgive me for not being super good at planning or getting my act together! I was thinking today about what I want to do for Advent and came across an idea that another blogger I know had about writing a little haiku each day to kinda help slow down and prepare our hearts for Christmas. This blogger is hosting it at her blog and even providing prompts too. I first thought, "hey, what a great idea! I should do that!" And then as I thought about it some more, I realised that given my verbosity, there would be almost no way I could restrict myself to a haiku. I mean, can you imagine me trying to do a short thought on Advent in 17 syllables? Eeek! Gives me anxiety just thinking about it, y'all!

So, no haiku for me. Instead, I'm going to take the idea of brief meditations and share briefly each day on the Gospel reading for that day. I tried to do this last year and it was an abysmal failure. I think it's because I'd just come off doing Write 31 Days in October and trying to keep writing a lot in November and didn't rest enough. This though, I should be able to do. Since I'm a bit behind, this will serve as both my introduction and my catch up from yesterday's Gospel.

Yesterday's Gospel: Luke 21:25-28, 34-36

"Be vigiliant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man."

I think this verse really sums up the entirety of the Christian life when it comes to what our purpose on earth truly is. Jesus tells us in Matthew's Gospel that the two greatest commandments are to love God and love our neighbour as ourselves (Matthew 22:36-40). Part of being vigilant so that we are ready "to stand before the Son of Man" when he comes again in glory is live our lives as though He is coming at any moment. Our entire purpose in life should be to follow those two greatest commandments so that when He comes again, we will be ready to stand before Him.

So why such a dark sounding passage during Advent? Well, it's simple really. Advent is a season of waiting and preparation for the birth of the newborn King. It is a time when we ready our hearts to once again come to the manger and adore Him. Likewise, it is also a time to prepare our hearts for His Second Coming -- or Advent -- when He will, as the passage from Luke says, come in a cloud with power and great glory.

At Christmas He is the Word Made Flesh and on that last day, He is the Risen and Glorified King of Kings who will put all His enemies under His feet. Our celebration of Advent is both preparation to celebrate His Incarnation and a reminder to ready ourselves for when He comes again.

Until tomorrow...

A Different Experience of Grace

After over a month of not writing anything, the last thing I thought I'd be blogging about is grace. To be honest, in this dark sojourn of the last two and a half years, I have shied away from writing about the subject. I talk about it occasionally with my sweet hubby Gray and the subject comes up quite a lot with my dear friend and “big brother” Chez, but I just can't seem to make myself write about it.

I believe in grace. Actually, I believe that it is God's gift of grace which saves us. I have had many encounters in my life with grace, but something about the deep heavy darkness of so long a trek through depression's valley has soured my desire to share much of anything with regard to faith, much less, grace. To be honest, I've been so angry at God and have had my faith shaken so profoundly, that there were times I wanted nothing to do with Him or the practice of faith at all. I even considered for a time turning my back on my faith altogether.

Five Minute Friday: Yes

This is my contribution, done in however many minutes it takes me, to the Five Minute Friday community. I don't do it by the rules, but if you want to, go check it out at Kate Motaung's blog, Heading Home. Just click on the link at the top for Five Minute Friday to find out what it's all about. This week's prompt is....

YES

In the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, favored one! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” But Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” And the angel said to her in reply, “The holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God.” Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her. (Luke 1:26-38)

I have read this passage of scripture many times. It's one of the texts that is often read at Christmas, because it has to do with the birth of Jesus. So many times as I read this growing up, I saw Mary's part in it as just one of someone who is the recipient of a message. More to the point, I saw it as a command from God that was delivered by the angel Gabriel. That's certainly the point of view that seemed to be preached from the pulpit in my Southern Baptist church, even if not specifically stated as such.

Given the language of the text, that is how it reads, but reading it with Mary as simply a passive recipient of this seemingly commanding message misses the point. It ignores that Mary, like all human beings, was created by God with free will. In my rush to see her as nothing more than Jesus' mother who happened to be specially chosen by God, I ignored this critical aspect of her humanity. I say it is critical because if we assume that she had no choice in the matter, then we negate the many scriptures that speak of man's ability to choose right from wrong -- including the ones in Genesis which tell how our first parents, Adam and Eve, exercised their free will in a way that created a need for Christ to come in the first place. If Mary is simply a robot who cannot say no to God, then she becomes unimportant in the overall story of our redemption.

But she is important and the reason is because she said YES.

There is a vast amount of power in those three letters. People's lives have been spared or ended by them. Nations have gone to war because of them. Sacred bonds have been forged by them. Kings have been created and men brought to their knees by them. They bring both infinite joy and great sorrow in their affirming power.

Mary's "yes" -- which we call her "fiat" in Latin -- brought about the greatest joy in human history. Her fiat made possible our salvation. Her yes enabled our redemption. This is why we as Catholics sometimes refer to her by the title Co-Mediatrix of All Graces. It isn't that she has an equal role as mediator between us and the Father, but rather that she said "yes" in order to bring Jesus into the world to die for us so that the gift of God's grace which mediates our sin before the Father might be possible.

Look at this verse from the passage again:

Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.”

This is the part where she gives her "yes" to God. She uses the language of submission, but it isn't submission that has come about because she has no choice. Given that all human beings are created with free will, Mary certainly could have said "no." Think of the situation that she found herself in -- betrothed to Joseph and not married. You can imagine that many young women in her shoes might have indeed said "no." But that's not what she does. She instead submits willingly -- "May it be done to me according to your word." -- to what God is asking of her. It is a yes that is borne out of a love for God and a desire to serve Him completely.

It is this total and purposeful surrender to God's will that makes Mary a model for all Christians. It is why Christians throughout the ages have revered and honored her in art, song, and literature. It is why she is often referred to as the chief of saints and why she is accorded special honor above the rest of the saints.

Mary's yes brought Jesus into the world so that we might be reconciled to God the Father and so that Eve's disobedience and her "no" might be undone. Her yes gave Jesus His specific human nature and the flesh that bore our sins, was Mary's DNA in Him. Her yes brought the Word Incarnate into the world through the ordinary means of human conception, pregnancy, and childbirth.

As Christians, outside of Jesus, we can have no better model than Mary on which to base our faith and devotion to Our Lord. If we fully submit ourselves to His will, then He can use our ordinary human flesh and our ordinary human means to bring the Word Incarnate to a world in need.

We need only say, "Yes" to Him.

The Greatest of These Is Love

After the kids are long since tucked in bed, Gray and I quite often spend time together just talking about one thing or another. Sometimes it's housekeeping sorts of things like, "Don't forget that I have an appointment tomorrow evening with Pendragon.." or "Honey, if you go out tomorrow, we're about out of milk and cat litter." Other times it's conversations about the kids and what is going on with them or something between us that we wanted to discuss in greater detail in private. A lot of times though, we talk about theology, politics, and the state of the world. Those last topics are some of my favourite conversations.

A topic that we go back to again and again and that we talked about earlier tonight is that of Christian charity. What prompted it was the fact that today on Facebook I ran across two rather disturbing instances where someone who was professing Christ was behaving in a way that was less than charitable.

Both of these situations broke my heart.

You might find that a bit of an overreaction, but it's the truth. Whenever I find Christians speaking to their fellow Christians or nonbelievers in a way that is hateful, angry, spiteful, or just rude, it hurts my heart. You see, I love people. I am a big lover of people from way back. I'm a hugger and kisser and an "Oh bless your heart!" and "How can I help?" and an "I love you, my friend!" kind of person. I don't know why exactly, but I've always been this way. My base instinct is to see the good in others and, if they will allow me, help them see it in themselves. All of that is born out of a desire to love others as God loves me. Even when I was a small child, I was this way. When I gave my heart to Jesus at age 6, it became even more important to me to love on others in the way that He loved me. It's just who I am and, for the most part, comes easily to me.

This isn't to say that I've never been uncharitable or that I lack the capacity for such things. Quite the reverse is true. I know there have been times in my life when I have been less than kind and loving. I also know that there have been many, many times when I have nearly bitten my tongue (or sat on my hands as it were) to hold back a snarky or nasty retort and then have let it all spill out of my mouth later on to an understanding friend. I say all of this because I don't want you to think I'm some kind of saint or angel. I'm not. I definitely aspire to be a saint, but I fall short of the mark quite a lot.

So what was our conversation about tonight? Well, it was me recounting the two incidents I'd witnessed and my frustration at the people involved who were so hateful. I told Gray that I just couldn't understand why they would say those things, why they couldn't seem to see how rude and unkind they were being. Without giving you all the details, one of the people was basically bashing an atheist friend of mine over the head with his beliefs about the state of her soul and the other was a group of people who were name-calling over the issue of their belief that the way they worship Jesus is better, more holy, and more perfect than the way another group of Christians worship Jesus. In each scenario, the victims of these attacks responded with great charity and grace and that was thrown back in their face as though they had replied with vindictiveness and vitriol.

I just don't understand that at all. It seems abundantly clear to me that this kind of behaviour is unacceptable for someone who professes the name of Christ. Look at Matthew 22:34-40:

When the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”

Love God and love your neighbour as yourself. How hard is this to understand? It's really not rocket science and yet, I run across many more people than I care to count who seem to forget this when they are engaged in a discussion about faith with someone with whom they disagree. They seem to get so caught up in the whole "love God" that they forget the second half of it which Jesus says is like it -- love of neighbour.

Why is the second commandment like the first? That's pretty simple too. It is a manifestation of the first commandment. If you love God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind, then the natural outpouring of all that love for God is love for your neighbour. It is an active thing that involves good works like feeding the hungry, visiting the imprisoned, clothing the naked, etc. It is also something that involves submitting our hearts, minds, and flesh to His grace to be molded into His will and transformed into the model of neighbourly charity to all we meet. That means being loving, kind, generous, humble in spirit, willing to admit when we are wrong, and choosing our words carefully when we are faced with disagreements with those around us.

Is it easy? Sometimes. But then again, sometimes it's ridiculously hard. That's when God is giving us the opportunity to practice. A lot of times that practice is uncomfortable and frankly, hurts. But you know what? Change often hurts -- especially the kind that takes practice -- but it's what we're called to. We are called to be changed so dramatically that when those around us look at us, they see He who is Perfect Love and Absolute Truth staring back at them. When we are working toward this transformation with sincere hearts and effort, then we fully understand the first commandment. It is then when we fully understand what it means to love God so completely.

I don't know about you, but I want that. I want to be so fiercely in love with God, so conformed to who He is, that this whole "love your neighbour" thing is as easy as breathing. There is something that I feel deep inside me that is hungry for this transformation, for this infusion of grace that changes men and moves mountains. I've pursued this for nearly my entire life because it is who He made me to be and the bottom line is that I love Him and I know by virtue of my creation that He loves me.

I'll admit that sometimes I struggle with feeling His love and sometimes I wonder if I actually do love Him because of the anger I feel at times. I have felt abandoned and lonely and alone and so heartbroken and hurt by His silence that I have wondered if I should turn away from Him and go my own way. But the imprint of His love, given to me by virtue of my humanity, that imprint so long tended, polished, and lovingly cherished, hidden away in the very depths of my being is what kept me trying to love Him despite the lack of everything that I felt and the darkness of my thoughts toward Him. That imprint of Perfect Love made manifest in the Eucharist, the holy oils of Anointing, the words of absolution in Confession, and in the sacramental love shared with Gray is what has saved me from walking away. It is what has saved me from myself in those dark moments when I have used life to inhale death. That Perfect Love is what has continued to draw me forward toward Him despite not wanting anything to do with faith or God or any of it.

I haven't done it on my own though. I've had an abundance of love from the neighbours all around me. In fact, when I suddenly couldn't feel God's love in a direct way (something I still don't really feel), it was the love of neighbours -- Gray, Sif, Fr. B, Chez, Rikert, Tara, and in his professional way, Pendragon -- that touched my heart, encouraged me to keep breathing and moving forward in obedience, and kept me from killing myself on more than one occasion. I have been blessed to have the love of many neighbours, especially online (shout out to all my awesome Board friends -- love y'all!!!) and many of whom did nothing more than pray for me in my hour of need, knowing nothing more than what Chez posted as a prayer request on his blog (Love you, big brother!) You see, I have been the recipent of that "love your neighbour as yourself" love from those around me in such a profound way that it made that Perfect Love of God manifest to me when I was unable to see Him or find Him on my own.

So you see, love of God is important -- the most important thing we can do -- because He is deserving of ALL our love and that includes the gift we give the rest of His creation when we......wait for it.......

.....love our neighbour.

That's all I've got. Peace be with you!

Five Minute Friday: Alone

This is my contribution, done in however many minutes it actually takes me, to the Five Minute Friday community. I don't do it by the rules, but if you want to, go check it out at Kate Motaung's blog, Heading Home. Just click the link at the top for Five Minute Friday to find out what it's all about. This week's prompt is....

ALONE

I am a naturally gregarious person and thrive when surrounded by friends and family that I love. I even thrive, to a lesser extent, when I'm in new situations with new people. I love getting to know people. I wouldn't say that I'm "the life of the party" but I would say that I definitely know how to mix and mingle in the crowd.

Given those aspects of my personality, you might think that I never feel alone, but I have and I do.

I know I talk about it a lot, but one of the things that makes depression feel so bad sometimes is that quite often, you feel alone in going through it. Obviously, this is the disease lying to you, but it is such a crafty and convincing liar, that you wind up believing it and that can be very bad. If depression can convince you that you are alone and no one else is struggling with it, then it makes it all the easier for depression's malicious twin to settle in whose name is despair.

Everyone feels alone sometimes, but when you feel desperately alone, it can cloud your judgment to the point that your ability to make good decisions is impaired. This is especially true of depression and feeling alone. People who feel that level of desperate loneliness while depressed often wind up wondering why they bother fighting the disease at all and those thoughts may lead to thoughts of suicide or a suicide attempt. People who survive a suicide attempt or a near-attempt quite often express the feelings that led up to that moment as hopeless, despondent, and alone. Hopeless and despondent are hard enough, but combine loneliness on top of it and it's a recipe for a very bad situation. 

While I have felt alone at many times in my life, I've never felt so alone as I did on July 10, 2013. Because I felt so utterly alone, I made a decision that irrevocably changed the course of my fight with depression and my life in the process. It was such an intense feeling of being absolutely and totally alone and with no one who was willing to hear me, see me, or believe me that I simply gave up. I gave into the pressure of a very bad situation and allowed myself to be bullied into something I never wanted to do. The end result was that when it was over, I was so much worse off than I would have been had I felt some kind of support and presence of another person who had my back.

I have looked back on that day many times and asked myself what I could have done differently. There are things I've come up with, but the reality is that I was all alone and, in addition, was very emotionally weak and vulnerable. The reality is that being alone and vulnerable made me collapse when I would have normally stood strong, fold when I would have fought, and allow myself to be manipulated by a big corporate machine when, under any other circumstances, I would have told them where to stick it and walked out. The loneliness of that moment led to me making the worst decision of my life and having to live with the consequences of that decision even some two years later.

Being alone has its positives too. I am largely quite an extrovert. That means that I tend to feel energized when around others. That is true in some respects, but I have a suspicion that my extrovertedness falls very close to the line between extrovert and introvert, because I also feel renewed in energy when I spend some time alone. This is particularly true if I have been spending a lot of time around a lot of people or a lot of time with people who, for lack of a better way to put it, drain me emotionally. When I get away from those situations, I feel a sense of relief and need some time alone or just hanging out with Gray or my bestie Sif to recharge my batteries. A true introvert would probably need to be totally alone, but I'm alone enough with one or two people in a relatively quiet environment. One place that I enjoy being totally alone is in the shower. It's nice to just relax under the hot water and I find that I do some of my best thinking as I'm shampooing my hair and washing the sweat and dirt off the rest of me.

Lately, I've really enjoyed alone time with Jesus. When I go to visit Fr. B for spiritual direction, he almost always hears my confession and then for my penance tells me to spend some time in the church before Jesus in the tabernacle. The first time I did it, I figured I'd spend 10-15 minutes and then leave. I wound up being there an hour and a half. I was amazed as I had no idea that I'd been there that long talking with Jesus and allowing Him to speak to my heart. I prayed and sang and cried and prayed and cried some more. I spent a good long time prostrate on my face crying amidst my prayers.

An hour and a half later as I was leaving I felt like I had left a huge weight there with Him. Even my body felt lighter. I also wound up having one of the most restful, peaceful naps that I've had in ages which was something that I dearly needed as I'd been up most of the previous week or two with nightmares every night and horrible insomnia. Thereafter, every time I go for confession with Fr. B, I spend a good hour at least, if not more, alone with Jesus. I think it might be healing something. I don't know. I would like to think it's helping some.

This way of doing Five Minute Friday is all new to me and I think I like it. I think it is going to work much better for me -- even if I wind up doing it this way, my way, all alone.

Five Minute Friday: Ten

Note: This post is my weekly contribution to the Five Minute Friday community that is hosted by Kate Motaung on her blog Heading Home. Click here for more information about Five Minute Friday and how you can get involved! To link up with all the other entries for today's prompt word, click here

****

1. Over 2000 years of history, tradition, and Apostolic Authority -- The Catholic Church is the oldest Christian church in the world and is the one founded by Christ Himself on the rock of St. Peter who was the first leader, or pope, of the Church (Matthew 16:13-20)

2. The gift of Holy Scripture -- the Bible was compiled by the Catholic Church and its canon closed by Pope Damasus I at the Council of Rome in 382. This canon includes all 73 books as well as longer versions of the books of Esther and Daniel. This is still the canon used by the Catholic Church today.

3. The Holy Eucharist -- this is the gift of Jesus to the world. It is His Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity and we get to take Him into our own bodies as nourishment for our souls! See #10 for more about this :)

4. The Communion of Saints -- which includes both those who are officially canonized, those are not, and those who are still living and striving to live lives of holiness and obedience to God on earth. I love that we have these heavenly friends to turn to in addition to our earthly friends!

5. Mary -- Yes, I know that every Christian church recognizes her in some way, but we as Catholics call her our Mother because she is the mother of Jesus and because He gave her to us as our mother from the cross when He gave her into the care of the beloved disciple John. I love that my girls have not just me, but Mary too! I also love having Mary as my mother too.

6. The priesthood -- a tradition that really dates back to the Jewish priesthood in that these are men who are set apart for God's service. I am SO grateful for the service of our priests. I know they're not perfect, but then again, neither am I!

7. The consecrated religious life -- I love that our faith tradition has a particular way for those who are called to God's service (men and women) to consecrate themselves and devote themselves totally to God. I also love that there's a religious order for just about every personality -- Franciscan, Domenican, Jesuit, Carmelite, Benedictine, Claretians, etc. and within those orders, there are various groups devoted to different callings -- teaching, preaching, nursing, missionary work, and contemplative prayer. Some are cloistered and some are in the community. Some live on farms, some live in urban areas. All are called to follow God and serve Him with the whole of their lives.

8. The Rosary -- some people think it is just a prayer to Mary, but it is really a meditation on the life of Christ. It is one of my favourite devotions and I could write a whole blog post about it. Maybe I will one day!

9. Easter Vigil -- The most gorgeous Mass of the entire year when there are baptisms, confirmations, and First Holy Communions all in one night -- lots of candles, incense, TONS of Scripture reading, and of course, the Holy Eucharist! It's my favourite Mass of the year!

10. The Mass -- I really have no adequate words to express how much I love the Mass. On those rare occasions when we must miss a Sunday because of sickness, I start feeling a bit spiritually weak from not having received the Eucharist. There is a hunger in me to be present at Mass each week that resides deep within me in a place even I do not fully know. I know it must be so because my flesh is weak and there have been many times on a Sunday when I was angry with God and angry with the world and depressed and just didn't want to go. But because of this soul-deep need in me, I went. It was, in part, out of obedience, but I know there must be some love with it too.

There are lots more reasons, but these are just a few that I came up with in five minutes!

****

Join in the Five Minute Friday fun and link up at Kate Motaung's blog!

A Meditation on Psalm 8 and Psalm 139

 A Meditation on Psalm 8 and Psalm 139

*inspired by Michael Card's "Starkindler"

What is man that You are mindful of Him?

You have kindled my soul from Your endless imagination and unfathomable power

You knit my bones and formed my being

You counted my days before their commencing.

The stars above me bear witness to Your supreme power,

The music I hear to Your infinite creativity

When I look above me into the vast expanse of space

The sky stretching on and on towards the heavens

Strewn with stars and planets

I wonder, breathless, why You created little, tiny me.

The vast oceans roll into the shore

Shifting grains of sand beneath their waves

While breezes lift my hair

And my skin drinks deeply of the sun's warm rays.

Birds soar upon the currents

And nestle in trees

Which teem with their own life

And the myriad of life which also makes its refuge in their branches.

Each creature, from tiniest insect to the largest mammals

Were shaped in all their complexity by Your fingers

Their courses directed and needs provided for by Your hands.

Grasses, plants, flowers, and every living thing springs forth by Your command

A symphony of beauty

And a tribute to Your Eternal Majesty.

With all of this vast creation, so intricate, elegant, and beauteous,

Who am I that You, the God of the Universe,

The Starkindler

Should sculpt me to reflect Your likeness

Send Love into the world as a perfect sacrifice for me,

And enkindle within this soul You made, the fire of Your Spirit?

Who am I, that You are mindful of me?

Today's post is my first ever link up with this week's #RaRaLinkup at Kelly Balarie's blog, Purposeful Faith. I hope you enjoy it and find it uplifting! Thanks to my friend Tara for introducing me to it via her blog!

Spy Wednesday

I learned something interesting this week thanks to Fr. B. In his homily on Palm Sunday, he talked in depth about Holy Week, examining each day and talking about the significance of the day, how we celebrate it, what the Gospel reading for that day says, etc. Of course, having been a Catholic for 10 years now, I already knew most of it, but I learned something new. We have something called Spy Wednesday! 

No, not a day when we watch 007....

On Spy Wednesday, we hear the account of Judas Iscariot who betrayed Jesus for thirty pieces of silver. The account of Judas' is recorded in all three synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke). This year, the reading is from Matthew's gospel and begins with these verse:

The entire reading is Matthew 26:14-25.

Notice that it says that Judas "looked for an opportunity to hand him over." Sounds a lot like spying to me. So not only does Judas sell Jesus out by handing him over, but he's actively looking for a chance to do it. They go on to plan their celebration of the Passover meal and Judas is looking. Then they meet in the upper room to celebrate together and he's looking. What's more, Jesus, being truly divine as well as truly human, knows that Judas is looking. 

Can you imagine how heart-breaking that must have been for Jesus to sit at the table side by side with all the disciples, looking at their faces, washing their feet, and sharing this meal all the while knowing that Judas was looking for an opportunity to betray Him? Jesus' human nature must have felt a great dismay at this knowledge and I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for Him to carry on with the meal as normal. 

One of the things that happened at the Last Supper was that Jesus washed the disciples' feet. This act is the institution of the priesthood as Jesus was showing them how they were to lead in His absence -- as servants. Prior to this, at supper, Jesus indicates to the twelve that one of them will betray Him and it is after supper that He washes their feet. Given that He had just told them that someone would betray Him, this would seem a good time for Him to refuse to wash the feet of His soon-to-be betrayer. 

But He doesn't. 

Jesus washes Judas' feet as well. He shows Judas grace and love and mercy, even as He knew what Judas was about to do. With the action of washing Judas' feet, Jesus shows everyone in the upper room and all of us who read the story today, the entirety of His message -- love, grace, mercy, hope, and forgiveness. That single action bears witness to the love of the Father, Christ's mission on earth, and the purpose of the Holy Spirit. 

Paul says this in his letter to the Romans:

"But God shows His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." (5:8)

If anyone was unworthy of such a gift, one would think that Judas Iscariot, the disciple of whom John writes, "Satan entered into him" (John 13:27a) would be unworthy to have his feet washed, to be shown love and mercy. But Judas was, like the rest of us, a sinner who was very much loved by Jesus. Even though Judas spied on Jesus, looking for an opportunity to betray him, he was no worse than any of the rest of us. We are all sinners and yet, Christ died for us.

How often do we allow the temptations of Satan to enter us and stay until we betray Jesus? 

How often have we been so mired in our sin that we have even looked for an opportunity to hand Him over?

We are all Judases in our own way. At every moment, He is Love Incarnate.

We all spy on Him, sick in our sin, and hand him over to be crucified again and again. And despite this, He washes our feet, shows us the depths of His love for us, and although He knows who we are and what we are about to do, allows our sin to hand Him over to the guards and nail Him to the cross.

And every heartbreaking time we come to Him in our sin, He offers to wash us clean again -- not through water poured over our feet -- but through the forgiveness that He made available to us through the cross. We need not be like Judas who was so full of bitter regret and despair, that he ran away from Jesus and toward death. All we need do is come to Him with a contrite heart, confess our sins, and receive His mercy and forgiveness.

Doctor Who and Catholicism

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you will know two things about me:

1. I am Catholic
2. I am a fangirl.

If you put those two things together, you can reasonably say that I am also a Catholic fangirl. I converted to Catholicism and I love everything about it. As each year passes, my love for my Catholic faith grows deeper and deeper. That said, my second most serious fandom has to be the British sci-fi series, Doctor Who.

For those of you who don't know that series, allow me to give you a brief description. Doctor Who involves a character called The Doctor who travels through time and space having adventures, saving planets and peoples (and occasionally the whole universe), righting wrongs, and inspiring hope everywhere he goes. He looks like a human (or as he says, we humans look like Time Lords) but he is really an alien from another planet. He travels in a spaceship called the TARDIS (Time and Relative Dimensions in Space) which looks like a blue 1960s style London police call box on the outside, but which is MUCH bigger on the inside. He goes on his adventures with various humans (and the odd alien) who are referred to in the series as his "companions." The people who encounter The Doctor -- both his companions and others -- are forever changed by the experience.

Matt Smith (as the 11th Doctor) exiting the TARDIS somewhere in central London.

One of the reasons I love both the Catholic faith and Doctor Who is that they make me think and ponder deeper subjects. Naturally, through the past few years, my thinking in one area has kinda bled over into the other area and recently as I was brainstorming ideas for this blog, it occurred to me that there are a lot of connections between the realities of Catholicism and the fiction of Doctor Who. The following is just some of the things that kind of popped into my head. Some of them may be a little loosey goosey, so bear with me.

Ordinary Things

Doctor Who is brilliant at taking ordinary things and turning them into the stuff of nightmares -- shadows, statues, broken clocks, cracks in the wall, astronauts, and pretty much anything else you can imagine. The good thing is that The Doctor knows about the evil in these seemingly ordinary things and he helps his companions and others avoid a variety of terrible fates because he sees these things for what they are and knows how to fight them.

Satan is rather talented at taking ordinary things and using them to distract us from God, lure us into sin, and in some cases, destroy us completely. One of the things I love best about Catholicism is that it takes sin very seriously and as such, is very, very clear about the kinds of things that constitute sin and lays that out for us as Catholics. When we find ourselves tempted by these ordinary things that Satan has twisted for his own nefarious purposes or we have fallen for his lies and into sin, the Church, like The Doctor, is there to help us identify where we've gone wrong, avoid sin when we're tempted, and fight back when we fall victim to the lies of the Evil One. The biggest weapons in the Church's arsenal are the graces found in the seven sacraments -- particularly, the Sacrament of Reconciliation (confession) and the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist (communion).

Companions = Saints?

As I said before, The Doctor almost always goes on his adventures with one or more companions along for fun and company. His companions are an exceptional bunch of folks and each one is very different and has a very different relationship with The Doctor. The common thread that they all share is that each of them is not only along for the ride, but each one helps The Doctor find his way to doing the right thing. They act as a sort of conscience for him at times, they help him fight his battles, and they encourage him when he's down. In Catholicism, we have thousands upon thousands of saints. The saints are very similar to The Doctor's companions in that they are a rather varied group of very special individuals and because of this, we relate to different saints in different ways. One of the great things about the saints is that they are not just our companions, but our brothers and sisters in the faith who are in a unique position (thanks to their being totally perfected and in the presence of God) to help us fight our battles by praying for us, to act as a sort of conscience for us by the witness of their lives, and to encourage us by the writings and accounts of their lives that we have here on earth.

Save ALL the People!

The Doctor is, at his hearts (he has two of them), a do-gooder. He wants to help those in need and when someone needs saving, he's your man. He's such a do-gooder that he wants to save all the people, even sometimes those who have long been his enemies. But he can't. He tries his best, but even on the days when he saves most everyone, there are always those who fall through the cracks because they were too proud to accept his help or too arrogant to listen when he tried to warn them of some impending danger. When he fails to save people, it really hurts him. Even if he carries on, makes a joke, or presents a stiff upper lip about it, you see it in his eyes, in a flicker of a frown that crosses his face, or in the slump of his shoulders. The Bible says in 1 Timothy 2:4 that God wills that all men should be saved and that is because the nature of God is love and His love is so great for all of His creation that He wants each and every one of us to be with Him -- even those who regard God as an enemy. He wants this for all of us and that is why He sacrificed His only son Jesus that ALL of mankind might be redeemed. Of course, as we also know, He gave us free will. We are redeemed by Christ's sacrifice, but we must do the work of accepting that gift. The problem is that some of us are too proud to accept it or too arrogant to listen when they are presented with the Truth of the Gospel or warned away from serious sin. The result is that although we as Catholics may hope that all men will be saved, the reality is that the likelihood of hell being empty is pretty slim to none. In the end, those who are saved by The Doctor are saved because they put their trust in his ability to save them and likewise, we find salvation by putting our trust in the sacrifice of Christ on the cross to save us from sin and death.

Words, Not Weapons  

In the Doctor Who universe, there are quite a few weapons at The Doctor's disposal, but he doesn't own a single one of them. So how does he save the day? By using his trusty sonic screwdriver (futuristic Swiss army knife + universal remote control + every sci-fi hand-held scanner device in existence) and his imagination, quick wit, previous experiences, and vast intelligence. He can stun an enemy into silence with a single word or turn back an entire army with a very well-crafted speech. When he speaks, it behooves you to listen. Just so, the Catholic Church has been fighting against those who would try to tear her apart by using scripture, logic, reason, and intelligent arguments based on 2000 years of prayer, experience, and tradition. She follows the example of Jesus who used words and not weapons to change hearts and lives and fight against those who sought to hurt others or entrap him and so derail his mission. True, the Church has had some less than stellar moments and yes, there have been some people who have used violence in the name of Christ and His Church (and this is most decidedly wrong), but this has a parallel in Doctor Who too. The Doctor doesn't use weapons, but sometimes -- most especially when he travels alone for too long -- he forgets his way and allows things to happen that he could prevent or even lashes out angrily when there is no just reason for it.


The Pope is a Time Lord?

For me, one of the most obvious connections is between the Pope and the Doctor. The Doctor is a member of a race of people called the Time Lords. As I said before, he appears to be a human on the outside, but he does have some unique things about his physiology that are most decidedly alien. One is that he has two hearts instead of one, but the most interesting difference is his ability to regenerate. When The Doctor is near death, instead of dying, his body goes through a process called regeneration where his whole body is transformed into a completely new and different looking body from head to foot. He looks, sounds, and feels like a totally new person. He has different tastes in clothes, food, and the things that appeal to him and yet, he retains all of his memories from his previous incarnations and if you, as the audience, look carefully, you can even see glimpses of his previous incarnations peeking through the eyes of the current one. He is a totally new person, but he is the same person too. The Pope has a similar sort of thing going on. Obviously, he doesn't almost die and then regenerate, but he does change -- either when the current pope dies or when he retires, like Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI did in 2013. Each new pope brings with him a new face, voice, personality, and way of doing things to the office of the papacy, but he retains and defends the 2000 years' worth of dogma, doctrine, and Traditions of the Church. Like The Doctor, even though he has a new face, you can often see glimpses of his predecessors in the things he says and does or even his pastoral style. He is most definitely a different person, but because his apostolic authority and the unbroken line of apostolic succession (the office of the pope is often referred to as the See of Peter -- the first pope), he is in some ways most definitely the same person as the men who came before him.


There are many other things I could say about how these two fandoms of mine are connected, but I think for now, that's quite enough to be getting on with. If you would like to read a little more, here's another blog post about the TARDIS and the Catholic Church by Catholic blogger Billy Kangas.