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!

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!

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)

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: Gather

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.

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Then Boaz said to his servant who was in charge of the reapers, “Whose maiden is this?” And the servant who was in charge of the reapers answered, “It is the Moabite maiden, who came back with Naomi from the country of Moab. She said, ‘Pray, let me glean and gather among the sheaves after the reapers.’ So she came, and she has continued from early morning until now, without resting even for a moment.”                   -- Ruth 2:5-7

"Pray, let me glean and gather."

In the last year and a half, my walk with God has been constant but spare. I feel very much like Ruth in this passage -- I've been gleaning behind the reapers and trying to gather what little bits I can from what others around me have left behind. I've been gathering little pieces of prayers, single words from scripture, and barest breaths of the Holy Spirit, trying to cobble together something approximating a faith life. I have looked out over the fields of deep depression and have been unable to find my own way in faith. I have been unable to even see Him amongst the sheaves. My friends and family have prayed for me so faithfully during this season of gleaning and gathering and have tried valiantly to encourage me, but I feel very much as though I have been gleaning and gathering from their leavings rather than having much of a faith of my own.

Part of my gathering has taken the form of obedience despite not being able to sense His presence in the field beside me:

Go to Mass on Sunday and receive the Holy Eucharist.

Gather.

Pray bedtime prayers with my husband and children.

Gather.

Listen to talks on faith.

Gather.

Put one foot in front of the other.

Gather.

Go to therapy appointments.

Gather.

Go to confession.

(gulp) Gather.

Receive the Anointing of the Sick.

Gather. Gather. Gather. Gather.....

Pray for others.

Gather.

Thank God for the small things.

Gather.

Continue my ministry with the choir and cantoring the Psalms at Mass.

Gather (cry). Gather (cry). Gather (cry).

Ask for prayer for myself.

Gather. Gather. (sob) Gather.

Put on my holy medals again.

Gather.

Continue to teach my children about Jesus.

Gather.

Challenge my doubts.

Gather.

Eventually Ruth gathered enough to fill her belly and eventually she rested and was refreshed. Eventually, God rewarded her love and devotion to Naomi despite her pain with not only food and refreshing, but a loving husband and a place in the lineage of Christ. God rewarded her obedience -- her gathering when she had nothing else and knew nothing else to do -- with a legacy that outlived her by over two millennia and continues to this day. 

Ruth gathered among the sheaves.
Although I cannot see His face or hear His voice, I will continue to gather until I need gather no more. 

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

Daybook Online Journal -- Week of March 3, 2015

Welcome to my weekly Tuesday post where I remember the ups and downs and big and little things of daily life for me and my family. I call it my Daybook Online Journal and it's an idea I found via fellow blogger Jenny at her blog, The Littlest Way. Thanks for the inspiration, Jenny! The prompts are a combination of several I've found as I've been researching this particular way of chronicling daily life. Come on in and reflect with me!

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Outside my window.... it's a rather rainy day today, gray and overcast, but the temperature has been in the low 70s which isn't totally unusual for this time of year. It is a little odd since we had the threat of snow last week and are supposed to have freezing rain and ice this Thursday. I really wish the weather would pick a season and stick with it for a while instead of all this crazy up and down, back and forth between winter and spring. I suppose I ought not be surprised given that this is also not unusual for this time of year. Welcome to the South!

Highlights from the week....

• Well, my girls would say that the potential "snow" day was a highlight because they got a day off school out of the deal last Wednesday as well as two days (Tuesday and Thursday) that were 2-hr delay days. We didn't get a single snowflake where I live but my parents who live about 20 miles north of us got snow. 
• For me and Gray, the highlight of the week was this past Saturday morning when our eldest, M2, received the Sacrament of Reconciliation (Confession) for the first time! She was so excited and joyful before and afterward. She got to have her confession with our pastor, Fr. K, who she just loves to pieces. What an amazing blessing to watch her take her next steps along her faith journey and draw closer to God in this beautiful sacrament!
• With it being winter, there are a number of illnesses being passed around and I have fallen victim to one of the lovely upper respiratory bacterial bugs. I started feeling totally miserable on Sunday morning and finally went to get checked at our local urgent care clinic yesterday. Good thing I did. They diganosed me with mycoplasma bacteria which can become walking pneumonia if left untreated. I got two shots -- steroids and antibiotics -- and a prescription for an oral antibiotic and cough syrup with hydrocodone so I could rest. It's helped some and I feel less yucky today, but I'm definitely still struggling.
• Speaking of struggling, I'm not sure this is a highlight per se, but it is what it is. I have been through a rather intense and dark period of depression in the last week and a half and thanks to some prayers for deliverance prayed over me by Fr. B this past Thursday, I felt things finally start to lighten. 
• I posted my first entry in a good week and a half on Friday for the Five Minute Friday blog challenge. It had been a rough couple of weeks prior to that and it felt good to finally get something posted.
• The Downton Abbey season 5 finale -- SO many feels for my little fangirl heart! SO good and I can't wait for season 6 next January! Just wish I didn't have to wait so long between seasons.

This week I am thankful for....

• The flexibility of Gray's job that allows him to work from home when he needs to for the sake of my health. He's done that so much in the last two years and I am so grateful that his bosses are so understanding.
• Gray's patience with me, especially when I am in the throes of the darkest depression and am not truly myself. I know it is so trying on him and stressful for him even when I am less depressed, but that stress is doubled or even trebled when things are at their worst. I am so thankful for his love, kindness, and compassion in those hardest of times too.
• My dear friend Rikert who, out of concern for me in my darkest hour, tracked me down and stayed with me, talking until he persuaded me to go home to Gray who was worried sick and unable to come looking for me as he was home with our children. Rikert and his wife both have been so supportive of me during these past two years, but just over a week ago, he kept me from making a horrible mistake. Dear God, thank you for good friends who are loving and gentle, but firm and stubborn too.
• Fr. B, our dear family friend (who is also the priest who married us), who has been so faithful to pray for me and our family so often and who has been a particular blessing to me this week as we met so he could give me some spiritual direction, talk together, and pray. He prayed prayers of deliverance over me, gave me the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick, and a priestly blessing. I am firmly convinced that those three things really helped the intensity of my depression lessen and things get a lot lighter than they had been. 
• The blessing of modern medicine. It is truly amazing what good pharmaceutical drugs can do toward relieving the symptoms of physical illness. 
• The graces received by my eldest in her First Reconciliation this past Saturday. What a wonderful thing to be reconciled to God for the first time! Thanks be to God for His love and mercy!
• Having an increase in my appetite and some sort of decent sleep for the first time in a good month. Seriously. Nightmare free sleep is seriously underrated until you don't have it on a regular basis.
• Voxxer messages shared with my friend Jae
• The simple joy of watching Downton Abbey 
• Black bean and avocado salad with corn tortilla chips
• Chocolate -- something that makes a lot of wrongs right again.

Praying for...

• My friend N, who is saying goodbye to her daughter A, who is headed off to basic training
• My friend Jae, who so fervently prays for me even as she struggles with her own trials
• My friend Chez who is in the midst of his semi-annual Tin Cup Rattle on his blog where he tries to raise some much needed funds to take care of his family. 
• A blogger I have read at odd times in years past, but have discovered anew today -- Kendra at Catholic All Year. For her and her beautiful family and whatever prayer intentions they have.
• My friend T, who is always so supportive of me and loving. I appreciate her sweet comments, all our Voxxer chats, and most of all her prayers.
• For Fr. B, who I have mentioned twice already in thanksgiving for his many prayers for me and my family and his love for us. May God bless him always.
• For Fr. K, who heard M2's very first confession this past Saturday morning in thanksgiving for his ministry to our parish and the Church and for his love for the children of our parish.
• For M2 as she inches ever closer to meeting Jesus for the first time in the Holy Eucharist. Dear Lord, prepare her heart, her mind, and her body to meet you in this most holy and intimate way. Fill her with your love and grace as she approaches her First Holy Communion with You Jesus and always draw her ever closer to you in this Holiest of Sacraments.
• For AB and GB in thanksgiving for the wonderful blessings they both are to my life and the life of our family and that they too will be drawn closer to God with each day that passes.
• For my beloved Gray that he will find success in his work efforts -- in particular with those things that are frustrating him in his projects -- and somehow, amidst everything that he does for all of us, a deeper closeness with You, O Lord.
• For Pope Francis, our Bishop Robert Baker, all the bishops, priests, deacons, and consecrated religious that they will find renewed joy in their vocations and be refreshed in body, mind, and spirit as they serve the Body of Christ with their lives.

Reading...

• Mississippi Trial, 1955 by Chris Crowe -- actually just finished this one
• Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J. K. Rowling -- a re-read
• The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien -- still working on this one
• Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte -- going to start this one soon

Listening to...

• EWTN Radio Network's Called to Communion with Dr. David Anders -- excellent call-in show for non-Catholics to ask questions about the Catholic faith
• Michael Card -- Come Lift Up Your Sorrows
• Mother Angelica and the Poor Clares of Perpetual Adoration praying the Rosary
• Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata

I am learning... that my children are growing up faster than I'd like and time is not slowing down.

My favourite quote of the week:

"Give people high-fives just for getting out of bed. Being a person is hard sometimes."
            -- Kid President

A picture from my week:

M2 just prior to the communal penance service that preceded her First Reconciliation (Confession). So happy!

Praying together in front of the altar after her First Reconciliation as a family. One of my favourite pictures of the whole day. L-R: AB, me, M2, GB, and Gray

See you next week! 

Theology Wednesday: Fasting, Almsgiving, and Prayer

Normally this post is Theology Thursday, but given the significance of today, I thought I'd do it a day early. Today is Ash Wednesday and as such, it is the beginning of the liturgical season of Lent. On the outside, it might seem like Lent is a super somber, funereal type of season -- especially given the fact that all most non-liturgical Christians know about it is that people get ashes on their foreheads at the beginning of it and usually give up something they really like.

Five Minute Friday: Dear

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. 

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Dear Depression,

As of the turning of the calendar into December a few days ago, it has been an almost 22 month long journey through your dark abyss. When are you going to let me go? I know that I have a part in your staying, as the bulk of your grasp on me is to do with the things in my head, but I have put for monumental effort at expelling you and still, you barely seem to budge. I don't understand what I have done to deserve so long a sojourn through your clutches, but here I am nonetheless, and at this point, I have no hope that this will ever truly go back to a place of normalcy. I spoke with Pendragon this week about how I am grieving. I am grieving, you know. I am grieving the loss of everything that you have stolen from me.

Faith - Monday of the First Week of Advent

When Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion approached him and appealed to him, saying, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, suffering dreadfully.” He said to him, “I will come and cure him.” The centurion said in reply, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man subject to authority, with soldiers subject to me. And I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come here,’ and he comes; and to my slave, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.” When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him, “Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith.  I say to you, many will come from the east and the west, and will recline with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob at the banquet in the Kingdom of heaven.” -- Matthew 8:5-11

Faith

"Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed."

What a faith filled statement to make! The centurion who approached Jesus that day showed great faith by recognizing his own unworthiness and yet having the boldness to lay bare his belief in Jesus' supreme worthiness. This statement is on of my favourite parts of this passage because it is both an admission of how wretchedly sinful we are, but also a confession of how perfect and merciful God is. At every Mass that is celebrated on any day, we speak these words just before receiving Jesus' Body and Blood in the Holy Eucharist. They are a little different, but still just as powerful. The words we say are, "Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed."

Update on series #ForAlltheSaints

Can I make a confession, friends?

I'm struggling. Life is super busy at this time of year and if I'm being honest, I still have a long way to go in this journey through this period of depression too. The last several days have been emotionally really difficult for me and I think my writing may need to be something that I do as I am inspired for a while rather than just being so structured.

Day Twenty-eight: Adrenaline

Note: This is a continuation of a 2-part entry and is a continuation of my story. Please click here for part one. To read the entire 31 Days series, just click on the tab above to access the index page for the series or click here to go straight to Day One.

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The next day I awaken and the dark fog is still there. The emotional anguish is still very present and this despite Gray having stayed home from work to make sure I am safe and his allowing me to sleep in as late as I like. I just don't want to endure this anymore. I fight with this darkness all day long while the big girls are at school and when Gray goes to pick them up from school, it is all I can do to not get in the other car and leave. Instead, I lay in our bed and go back to sleep. Pendragon calls, as promised, a little while after the girls are in from school. I tell him that I am still struggling with suicidal thoughts and urges and I just don't want to do this anymore. We have an appointment the next evening and he asks if I think I will be okay until then. I answer honestly that I don't really know, but maybe. I tell him that I am still struggling with wanting to leave but that I'm fighting it. He asks if I think I need to see him this evening instead of waiting until our appointment. Even though good sense would say, yes, I do need it, I find myself telling him that I will wait. I am not thinking clearly or I would have been more honest with him, but I don't even realise how bad it is.

Day Twenty-seven: Fighting to Leave and Stay

Note: This is a continuation of my story of my journey through depression in my 31 Days series. This entry takes place in October of 2013 and because it wound up being so long, I have split it into two parts. This is part one. Click here for part two. To read the rest of the series, click the 31 Days tab above or click here to go straight to the Day One entry.

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Fall leaves are everywhere now and the weather is cool enough that jackets or long sleeves are necessary for most mornings as we send the girls off to school, although the afternoons are still warm enough for shorter sleeves. The weather doesn't really affect my clothing choices though. They have been the same for months. Black. Black. More black. I really have about two outfits that I wear pretty much every day and they are both black shirts and pants. The only break in my parade of black is Sunday mornings when I wear a long floral printed maxi dress with a solid yellow shrug over my shoulders. To be honest, it is another reason that I hate Sundays lately. I don't want to wear flowers or yellow or any other colour. I have always dressed in colours that are reflective of my mood and as my mood is rarely brighter than perhaps a dark midnight blue and is usually rather black, I don't feel like dressing in anything else. I have tried to wear other colours in an effort to lift my mood, but they just wind up irritating me and pulling me down further. The only other time outside of Sunday that I wear anything except my black is when I absolutely must in order to pretend that I am feeling happy or at the very least, normal. I even have a black cotton nightgown that I wear a lot of the time. The black not only fits my mood, but it is, in an odd sort of way, comforting. Lately I feel so on edge and irritable that the least little thing seems to overstimulate me and makes me want to run away and hide. I am normally very comfortable in crowds and around strangers, but all of that has changed too. My normal extroverted nature has been swallowed up by the darkness of depression and the black that I wear seems to help insulate me a little when I must endure those situations that have a tendency to overstimulate me.