Psalm 17

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until next time....

Pax Christi!

Psalm 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 3

This psalm really hits me where I live. There's so much that speaks to me in it that I could honestly write two or three blog posts on it with no problem at all. Of course when I say that it hits me where I live, I'm talking about depression -- more specifically, the depressive episode I've been struggling through in the last three years.

O Lord, how many are my foes! Many are rising against me; many are saying to me, "There is no help for you in God." (verses 1-2)

Recently, on a couple of different occasions, Fr. B has said to me that he thinks that I've been dealing with not only the psychological part of depression but a definite spiritual part too. I've struggled mightily with my faith for most of this episode and still struggle with it even now at times. Gray has posited on many occasions that he believes I'm being spiritually attacked or oppressed. I'll admit, I've been reluctant to believe that. What I've been seeing are all along are all the signs of spiritual oppression and I've been ignoring them because I didn't want to believe that there was anything demonic going on.

Part of this is that I used to go to a church before I became Catholic where there were some people who saw demons under every rock and attributed demonic influence or attack to nearly any problem. Prayers for deliverance were pretty standard. I even went through prayers for deliverance from depression back then and when nothing happened, I grew very bitter toward the practice. What changed was that I trust Fr. B and his discernment. He's not the sort to see demons everywhere, so when he senses that there's something going on, he is serious. I had been very resistant to any kind of deliverance prayers or ministry until he and I started meeting for spiritual direction. My trust in him allowed me to put my hesitancy aside and let him pray prayers of deliverance over me. And this time, little by little, the various things that had kept me at odds with my faith started dissolving.

Despite this, I still resisted the idea until I had a very powerful experience of being spiritually attacked that frightened me so much that I could no longer ignore all the signs. The next time Fr. B and I met and I told him that, he prayed deliverance over me again and as I wept, he said he sensed something happening with me. I didn't feel any change, but over the next week I had a realization: I have been feeling less anger toward God, less animosity toward my faith, and there has been an increase in my desire to move toward God in the last several months. In short, there has been a very slow, steady healing of faith happening right under my nose and that is due in large part to my having been delivered of some of the spiritual oppression I've been experiencing. My foes have been many, rising up against me and whispering the lies that God will not help me. I had been drowning in the tide of these attacks and had believed the lies, but all of that has been changing.

But You, O Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, and the one who lifts up my head. I cry aloud to the Lord, and He answers me from His holy hill. (verses 3-4)

I know that despite being so attacked, God has protected me. He has protected me as He has from the day of my conception with the presence of my guardian angel. He has protected me through the interventions of my husband Gray, my therapist Pendragon, and my friends who have saved me from myself. He has lifted up my head through the encouragement of dear friends and family. He has heard my cries in the night, in the day, in my bed, in my car, and lying prostrate before Him present in the tabernacle. For a long time, the last part of verse 4 didn't resonate with me at all. I was under such a heavy oppression that I was unable to see Him or hear any kind of answers. To be honest, I still struggle to see Him and hear Him. The difference these days is that I've grown more able to bear what seems like His silence and absence.

I lie down and sleep; I wake again for the Lord sustains me. (verse 5)

Oh this verse! This verse! I'm getting a bit emotional just reading those words. You see I've been absolutely dreaming of being able to lie down and sleep. Sleep doesn't come easily for me. I struggle with horrific insomnia that is brought on by anxiety about lying down and closing my eyes. This is because of the nightmares that I have which take me back to my trauma again and again and again. When I finally do sleep, I don't want to wake because I'm so very tired from fighting nightmares. I don't feel sustained. Of all the verses in this psalm, this is the one I have the hardest time swallowing. It's the one that causes me to want to stop reading and close my Bible. Maybe one day it won't be so hard. Or maybe it always will be. Crosses and such, you know?

I am not afraid of ten thousands of people who have set themselves against me all around. (verse 6)

What a bold statement! In my case, I'm not surrounded by ten thousands of people, but I know there are likely quite a few darker forces at work who have definitely set themselves against me and do their best to not only surround me, but envelop me. Am I afraid? Honestly? Yeah, a bit. I'd like to be as bold as this, but I'm just not there yet. It's a process and one that I'm still muddling through.

Rise up, O Lord! Deliver me, O my God! For you strike all my enemies on the cheek; you break the teeth of the wicked. (verse 7)

Obviously, this is a prayer of the psalmist for help. I don't normally ask for my enemies cheeks to be struck or their teeth broken, but I do ask for God's protection from evil. I also ask the saints to pray with me against any evil that might beset me. St. Michael the Archangel is an especially powerful intercessor against evil because of his special status as the warrior angel who leads the heavenly army in the fight against Satan and his army in chapter 12 of Revelation.

Deliverance belongs to the Lord; may your blessing be on your people. (verse 8)

In the end, I cannot find my way out of any kind of oppression on my own. I need the help of the Lord which comes through prayers of deliverance prayed over me by Fr. B, frequent reception of the Sacraments, and remaining obedient to what is required of me by God. Being so vulnerable and trusting when it comes to this process doesn't come easily for me. I still wrestle with a great many doubts, fears, and a real lack of genuine hope. I still have difficulty with what seems to me to be God's silence and absence. I'd love to say that I'm becoming more mature in my faith through all of this, but I still have so many days when I'm sure that God looks at me and sees a whiny, ill-humoured, petulant child. I want that deliverance now, not tomorrow or next year or when I'm 50 years old. But just as my deliverance itself belongs to God, so does its timing. As impatient and immature as I am, there's nothing for it but to keep pressing on and to keep asking for His blessing and His mercy while I wait on Him.