Long Lost...Back Again?

Greetings and Salutations to my long-lost readers!  Or...am I the long-lost blogger?

In any case, thanks for hanging in there, welcome to new followers, and let me just say I hope to resurrect this ol' gal.

So here we are in the midst (well still the semi-beginning) of the Lenten season, and we've all been hit with the shocker of our beloved Holy Father's impending departure from the Papacy. It truly gives us all something to pray about and for as the conclave nears once again, and offer our Lenten sacrifices for the guidance of the Holy Spirit for the good of the Church.

I don't know about you, but right on schedule, God chose a sacrifice for me since I'm still awful with sticking to my own chosen sacrifices. That's right: I got the flu. Which always happens when I receive the St. Blaise blessing.

This time, though, I think I've avoided bronchitis but it's not over yet so who knows what joyful sacrifice God still has in mind for me to make this year?  I've been sick all week, went to work yesterday and had to leave - just couldn't make it for very long. Came home to nap, brought work home with me, and this morning we're dealing with a snowstorm. It's not horrible but you all know how it is: when you feel awful or just plain exhausted from being sick, the last thing you want to do is head out onto bad roads. I emailed my boss to ask if I could work from home today, and go in tomorrow.

My fear is that she may say I HAVE to go to the Dr. and get a note since I've been out most of the week. However because I went in yesterday and am sorta flip-flopping days off, I might be able to avoid that requirement. Thank you God for a flexible work schedule since I can't afford to go to the Dr. who will only tell me to do what I've been doing:  chicken broth, garlic, lots of fluids like tea, orange juice, water, sleep, lay low, OTC meds, and laying low. We all know how it goes. So...pray for me y'all and I'll offer this particular suffering for you.  (I should add that's a guarantee on my part, whether you pray for me or not!)

Today, because I'm home, am having a mini-retreat and may actually post some of my work, depending on how it progresses. Be well, my friends, be prayerful, and be holy as your Father in Heaven is Holy.

Blessed Lent to you all!

Big Bad Wolf

I'll never forget taking my first dog I adopted as an adult to an obedience class. The instructor informed us in no uncertain terms that we have taken wolves into our homes and we should expect them to be...wolves. Not human babies. As strong as the temptation is to want to "humanize" our pets, it's the worst thing we can do, because of course, they don't think the same, they don't "feel" the same, and, well...their genetic makeup is fully canine.

He was right. 

Now that I've had several dogs, both my own and fosters, come through my home, I've come more and more to understand what he was talking about. Especially now.

A couple weeks ago I took in another foster, a mix of a couple of the most beloved breeds, and things were going well - until I took him in to the groomer. His nails were terribly overgrown and he was clearly in pain so I insisted we get this taken care of as soon as possible, and certainly before a pending adoption.

Unfortunately, the grooming didn't go well. I'd warned the groomer that he was sensitive about his nails and she was ready for him. She gave him a chance, he snapped at her so she went to get the muzzle. The groomer approached him with the muzzle, didn't even touch him when, without any warning whatsoever, the dog  lunged and bit her, drawing blood.

She's fine, but the dog's future is in question. I got him into the Rescue's vet this last week to get his nails trimmed, but because of the bite risk, the appointment was nearly as traumatic for me as it was for the dog. Both the dog's placement coordinator and I were careful to caution the staff not even to approach him with a muzzle or someone would be bitten. They prepped the sedatives and took even more precautions to ensure he wouldn't bite when the needle went in. (I think he's fine with needles but when a dog has bitten the logical thing is to ensure it doesn't happen again, especially when the dog is already stressed.)

My foster had to be given drugs twice and STILL had fight in him when it came to the muzzle. He was completely out...but when the muzzle approached he leapt into action. Actually bit the Vet Tech once, forcing him to have to get the "cat gloves" and the hapless (and brave!) VT would have been totally torn up without them by the time they were finally successful.

Indeed, the dog's nails were finally clipped, and the good Veterinarian did indeed deem it to be "medically necessary", even prescribed painkillers for what may be an arthritic knee. She was able to do a good exam while he was out cold (and muzzled), and I'm thankful - because he almost bit me a couple days later when I barely and unintentionally brushed against his bad knee.

So as it goes, my foster, whom I am calling "Aslan" because he has a huge mane and, well, isn't a "tame lion, you know", has a behavioral evaluation tomorrow. All the rescues are temperament tested before they go to a foster, but when problems are identified, they get more intense scrutiny.

Life in the Balance

I grew up hearing from our Mom that if our dog ever bit anyone, she would be "put down". No question. My Mom was raised on a farm and it was unacceptable for a family pet (usually kept outdoors in their case) to bite a human being. I don't disagree with that standard. However, I have come to realize there is room to allow for hope, and that also comes from the same Christian upbringing. While Jesus did not die for animals, he did give we humans dominion over them and the ability to use reason - and training - to properly steward these creatures.

Sometimes humans do horrible things to animals and cause behaviors the animals themselves would not choose if not completely traumatized. Some of those things CAN be overcome. A dog is not a shark; the taste of blood from a bite does not automatically mean that a dog will start biting indiscriminately. They don't have interest in that; they bite for a REASON. Find the reason and perhaps they can be saved.

That is the case with this dog. I'm sure of what happened to him:  his paws and nails were never handled and were totally neglected for care. When it came time that they HAD to be done, they didn't work with him, decided to muzzle, forced the muzzle on (again without training), took him down and hacked off the talons, probably causing pretty major pain. This probably happened more than once, and NOT by professionals, but by whoever owned the dog.

His aggression triggers seem to be limited to any kind of ongoing pain, his nails, muzzle - and anything that would be painful. This is a scary thing. Right now he can't be trusted; even I won't push him if I'm not sure how he's going to react. I'm careful to watch every bit of his body language so as to avoid setting him off.

Tomorrow, I'm taking this boy to the Rescue's Behaviorist for an evaluation. My understanding is that the Behaviorist will trip "Aslan's" triggers with what we know and I guess, push the envelope in other ways as well. She will determine if we can work to desensitize him and give me instructions as to how to go about it.

Years ago I had a dog who was both fear-aggressive (nonspecific triggers) and had major separation anxiety. While it's nice to have had that experience under my belt, and while that past experience helps me to have no irrational fear about the dog in my care now, I claim no expertise. This is very much a learning experience and as this is not my dog but merely a foster, his LIFE depends upon tomorrow's meeting and what I am able to do, with the Behaviorist and the dog going forward.

So...I realize many people have had bad experiences with dogs and may have grown up just as I did, with the equation of "Bite = Death". Please let me introduce this dog to you in the way I see him every day:

"Aslan" is the perfect gentleman inside the house.  He sits on command, is completely housetrained, stays in my room at night and remains quiet even when my usually-quiet GSD barks at something.  I usually wake up to find "Aslan" lying directly next to my bed waiting to greet me. When I do arise he tries to circle and is only hindered by his girth as he's about 30 pounds overweight. (He should weigh 50 - 60 lbs max but weighs over 91 lbs).

"Aslan" has probably lost a couple pounds since he came to me, and LOVES his walks. In the beginning he struggled with the short ones but now tries to lead the way and I have to keep him from crowding and "herding" me on our regular walks. On bad days, as he has maybe a little arthritis in his knee, he lags and may sit - that's become a cue to me to take him home.  For now he's on anti-inflammatories which hopefully will help and I think already have done so!

"Aslan" defers to my GSD (as Queen Bee of this house!) and prefers the floor to the dog bed but still finds his way to the dog-designated futon when it suits him. He's directable and loveable. He loves attention, wants to be petted, knows how to "shake" and takes treats so perfectly an infant could offer it to him without a mother's moment of worry.

The other day I discovered "Aslan" likes it when I sing, but tonight, I learned his favorite song is "Lil' Red Riding Hood", Amanda Seyfried's version. The very moment I began singing he sat up, after awhile started to vocalize every time I stopped, and when I sat on the floor, still singing, he came over, laid his head in my lap, rolled over so I could rub his (considerable!) belly, and then stood only so that he could turn around and sit in my lap to be petted.

This is a wonderful dog and it breaks my heart that he has been so traumatized that his fear has driven him to draw blood from human beings. "Aslan's" nature is to be someone's buddy. He's protective, he's cuddly, and he's obedient.

And his life is in danger; not because of the Rescue or because of me, but because some people in his past have so traumatized an innocent creature to the degree that we may be unable to un-ring that particular bell.

Comparisons

There are some who think the lives of animals mean nothing, or try to compare the lives of human babies to those of animals. There is no comparison. As a Catholic, I know it is both-and. While I give far more weight to the life of a human child, that does not mean that some of us have not been called to the area of Catholic Social Teaching in the area of Stewardship for Creation. I am not a mother, I do not have children. I am Pro-Life and work professionally with religious organizations that promote the end to abortion and contraception.

But in my personal time, because I am able, I find I can help some animals, I have gifts in this area, and right now there is a life in my care. Some human beings in this dog's past put his life in danger through really horrible abuse, and all the work I do with this I offer in reparation on behalf of those who hurt him. I have hope that this dog will respond to training and hope that tomorrow's evaluation will go well. I am assured of support from the entire Rescue.


Everything I do for animals I do even more for human beings, for every service to the former is ordered to the eternal life of the latter.

And since now I know "Aslan's" favorite song, I will sing it to him as often as necessary to tame the bad wolf within him.

Life Gets In the Way

Or is it more proper to say, Life IS the way?

We don't grow in holiness through blogging about it. We grow by experiencing challenges that force us to grow in virtue.

Our life experiences bring us out of our comfort zones, force us to confront not just the situation but also to reflect upon the state of our own souls, and hopefully, to help us grow deeper into our Vocations or even temporary states in life.

What's the old saying?  "Man plans and God laughs". Something like that.

There's been a LOT going on around me, at home and with family and work, and it consumes me.

Today has been especially difficult and I even fled quickly from Mass this evening, knowing I didn't have enough kleenex to absorb the tears.

We all deal with tragedy, but I'm still trying to sort out the magnitude of tragedy going on around me. I thank God for a special gift He sent this week, that being lunch with an old friend who is back in town for a reunion. Perhaps that was the respite that prepared me for today in the wake of all that has been going on and will coalesce in the next week.

Backstory

I can't go into detail because it may involve court proceedings, but I can reveal a little.

Remember last fall, my posts about the battle against the mouse invasion?

Yeah. I had no idea what we were all up against. Although eventually the mice population lost to human dominance over our own proper habitat, we unfortunately didn't realize that humans can choose to be vermin because that, too, is a part of our fallen nature.

If I'd realized then what was going on, I would have been on the horn to child protection and the health department and anyone with jurisdiction over this on a weekly basis.

You see, I live in a townhome and the unit in question, being rented, was host to someone who misrepresented herself and unfortunately, wasn't screened by the homeowner. So it was that about 5 families or other single personages moved in, and the main renter happened to allow immediate destruction by her children with no correction. Ever.

Let's just say that the renter in question turned out to be a hoarder, didn't understand what cleaning chemicals, brushes, rags, mops, vacuums, etc are for, and never employed them. Ever. In fact, there seemed also to be no understanding in that home at all that garbage containers were designed for a purpose, too. Apparently, these people decided that living with and among and on top of and under garbage of all types was something they preferred.

Now, I didn't realize this until recently. Yes, I'd noticed the growing rank smell in my garage and increasingly had to suppress the gag reflex every day I came home. And yes, the people who resided there increasingly used the front lawn as a livingroom, and often, the lawn outside my place for major celebrations, which was very noisy and annoying especially with their unleashed dog and uncontrollable children who literally threw patio furniture at each other with no parental intervention.

But that's beside the point. They had their electricity turned off for non-payment shortly before the end of their lease which was not being renewed, and that's where I came in. While checking on the property for my friend the homeowner, I and another neighbor became aware of the ACTUAL condition of the property and the filth that contained the people there.

Have you ever seen the show "Hoarders" on A&E?  I find it ironic that I watched a few of them via Netflix while on the other side of my wall, THAT'S what was going on. But you see, I didn't realize because I had no reason to pass in front of that unit that faced away from me, and they were such heavy smokers that the cigarette smoke that permeated the walls and filled my home with a haze actually covered the scent of garbage and human soil.

Really. 

Well, I actually had to enter the abandoned place to turn stuff off when the owners, unaware of what was left on deliberately or not by the vacated renters, had it turned back on. We pulled the fuse on the Central Air from outside and decided to enter (trespass) in order to protect the owner. And it all went downhill from there.

You can't imagine the smell. Four cats and the litter box never cleaned, or if so, only rarely. The introduction of a puppy. Actual violence done to the actual structure of the home. Filth everywhere. A kitchen never cleaned...ever. Walking on garbage, floors tacky, even the carpets. Mold and mildew from a serious water leak they did not call the landlords to report. (Now I know the source of the mildew I smelled about mid-winter but could never track in my house. The leak wasn't mine..but the scent came through my walls).

So...well...let's just say I've been in the unit taking damage photos with the owner's permission, blessing, and gratitude simply because I used to investigate fraud and know about the importance of photos in court proceedings.

Unfortunately, I may have signed away, for free, several years of my life.

But Wait! There's More!

Well, my personal life isn't exactly roses, either.

While I'm not a hoarder by any means, I have agony coming at me from another direction: family.

Recently I wrote about my mother's upcoming surgery. Even though Angioplasty is perhaps the least-invasive of all heart surgeries, the fact is that we all only have one heart muscle and if something goes wrong, it's over.

It's complicated by the fact my mother is high-risk with diabetes and a non-or-under-functioning kidney. (For those unaware: that complication has to do with the dye used to identify the blockage).

I'll be waiting at the hospital, alone, while Mom is in surgery as bro can't be there, and so I've been trying to emotionally and mentally prepare myself for the worst case scenario.

Today

Then today I went to work, and learned that my friend, whom I wrote about a couple weeks ago, died this morning.

That was hard enough and I had steeled myself for the news, knowing that as a parish employee, I could not give in to emotions. I had to inform as well, and be present to support others.

So I received the news and took advantage of the short period of numb denial, and called, personally, all of our volunteers who had worked with him so long, starting with the most difficult. Then called the teens he had taught, and heard some very touching things from the parents with whom I spoke: as much as this man had been touched by "his boys", they also had been touched and spoke often of him. They had also learned much of their faith and that, too, had made incredible impact.

Because of this response I passed on to them his dying wish, which I won't reveal here for that should remain silent but for those whom it involves right now.

While making those calls, I often had to stop, take a deep breath, and get my emotions under control. On the other end of the phone I heard tears, sharp intakes of breath before I even delivered the news as some seemed to sense that I wasn't calling for my normal August reasons.

Many took the news and re-directed the conversation to other things, probably for the same reason I allowed it to be re-directed: for composure. To speak of normal things because, well, we were ALL at work.

And sadly, I had to leave the information on some voice mails and with great apologies. Still, if it were me, I'd rather have the voice mail notification than none at all or a cold emailed version.

Because of all this, I had to get away from the office. I couldn't go to the Adoration Chapel at work; when I am there I need to be "professional" and can't just go there to cry there in front of Jesus.

I had to go home, so I left work, went to my home parish chapel, and prayed the Office of the Dead, Divine Mercy, and laid my grief before My Lord.

And Then It Got Worse

When I arrived home, I had a phone call from my boss with the funeral information: it's Monday, the Feast of the Assumption.

The same day as my Mother's surgery.

I can't go.

I can't go to my friend's funeral because I will be sitting in a waiting room praying not to have to plan my mother's funeral.

And on top of all of that, today I also learned a co-worker and friend was diagnosed with breast cancer and will be undergoing very aggressive treatment, starting very soon.

We Are All Tested

I can't explain the ways of God, but I know the family of my friend probably hoped for a funeral on the Feast of the Assumption for the same reason I prayed my mother's surgery would be on that very same Feast Day.

It comes down to our beliefs about the Assumption, about eternity, about the Blessed Mother's intervention at the time of death

It comes down to what we believe about Purgatory (pray for the Holy Souls!) and eternal Beatitude.

Grief isn't a bad thing, as some want to imply. Grief is beautiful, for it is a corollary of love. We cannot truly grieve those we did not love. In grief, tears are the pearls recorded by God and if offered up, applied as prayers on behalf of the loved one who has gone to join Him, and such pearls are never wasted.

I know my friend received the Sacraments and spent his final months doing little but praying, most especially for others. I am honored and grateful to have been on his list.

I know my mother has received the Sacraments and will go into surgery spiritually prepared.

And I know that God wills me, in some sense, to be present there, in "original solitude", and He intends it for my holiness just as He intended for me to make all the phone calls, alone, earlier today, reigning in my own grief in order to support that of others. None of us lives for ourselves; our lives belong to God and He calls us forward into that life, to serve even when we'd rather retreat. This the paradox that makes us grow in virtue.

Tonight I am exhausted, and it seems, at every moment, there is a phone call or email demanding something more, and I find that still, somehow, I have more to give. It doesn't come from me...it comes from Him.

Yes, Life gets in the way of our personal plans, but in reality, that's because God calls us to live through everything so that we may more appreciate His sacrifice, learn to live it ourselves, and bring others to Him through our own suffering.

You know...Jesus never promised that we wouldn't suffer. Rather, He promised to be WITH us.

The more difficult the trial, the more He carries us and our load.

Thank You, Jesus, because I can't carry any more right now.

Comedy Among Tragedy

It's been a weird day for me, filled with grace, humor, sadness, grief, and hope.

Comedy of Errors

It all started with a thunderstorm that kept me home after my planned departure time, allowing me to take a phone call from a co-worker who needed a ride to work today.

I'd already opened my garage door for air, so when I finally left I found two birds taking shelter from the weather. They flew off as I encroached upon their friendly solitude and tossed my purse into the car.

En to co-worker's house, I was confused, wondering if perhaps I was on the wrong road; for some reason, everything looked weird today. Although the road signs and sights were familiar I was discombobulated, then taken aback even more when I had to slow for what I thought was a family of ducks. As I reached them, though, I didn't recognize them as any waterfowl I'd ever seen and was unable to get a good look thanks to a redneck pickup hard on my rear end. Had I not slowed to a stop for the birds, however, I would have run over the last cartoonish straggler, which I hope the pickup driver saw in his probable confusion as to my randomly-stopped behavior on a country road.

When I finally reached my co-worker's neighborhood, I missed the turn and had to go back, even though I've driven this route several times.

On the way to work, we saw yet another creature crossing the road ahead of us, but this time neither of us could identify us; could have been a cat, a badger, a skunk, or a raccoon...or some other critter not yet considered. For once, no deer appeared; they were probably still huddled in their storm-shelter thickets.

Then I took another wrong turn and headed up a highway that took me back towards home...not work. Laughing at my very stupid mistake, I turned around at the next exit and managed to navigate our way to the office.

My co-worker took me out for lunch to thank me for the drive to work and home for the last couple days, and on the way back from the office, I AGAIN turned down a wrong road, causing a detour from a known detour. There seemed to be a theme developing.

Finally, on the way back home, I AGAIN got off on the wrong exit to my co-worker's home, causing us to have to sit in traffic we could have avoided and even though it all worked out, she offered me the use of her GPS in case I got lost finding my way home again!

Yeah...I nearly took her up on that offer!

But that's not the whole story. There were bigger events today and I wonder if God just used my lapse in obvious navigation as comic relief to keep me from focusing on  weight heavy upon my heart.

Tragedy

Today we visited a dear friend who is dying of cancer, now completely bedridden at home, suffering from the encroachment of several brain tumors.

I admit I was afraid to see him, but at the same time, looking forward to it, for I love this dear, dear man.

When we arrived, I had to hide my shock (even though I expected this) at his condition; he looked like a concentration camp survivor. This once-robust man was lying in bed, eyes still bright and welcoming, overwhelmed so much by a body wasted away that he could not even reach up to hug us, settling for a good strong handshake instead.

We remained for an hour or so, listening to a story about a part of his life, laughing with him and his wife as they still bantered, laughing with his lively spirit even as he struggled to draw his breath, waiting patiently through his pauses as he had to often swallow, breathe, and gather himself for the next thing he was going to say. It was a great gift to be with him.

This man and I have a few wonderful things in common:  we graduated from the same university, although he has a greater claim to it: he was a Brother there for a time, trying his Vocation, attended the seminary there, and of course, ultimately earned his Bachelor's there, as did I...many many years later. So it was that I was grateful to sit at his feet, literally, as he spoke of his early Vocation, how it came to be, his Irish mother and her persistence, his Priest brother, and his children and grandchildren in their relationship to God and the Faith.  He showed us his rosary, spoke of his brother's death (only a couple years ago), of his mother.

Yup. He's always been a storyteller, but what I reflected on as we left was this: in his stories, he is remembering and communicating not just his actions, but trying to impress upon us those he loved who had gone before him. He is getting ready to meet them again.

He gave me a few directions and hopes for his funeral, things that perhaps I can assist with, and I recognized it as a "dying wish". He knows full well that I don't have the power to do all of it, but I do perhaps have the ability to influence at least SOME of it...and a few other things perhaps he doesn't expect. Those things are in the works and I must pray about the rest, for it involves personally delivering very difficult news to young people in hopes they will respond in love through their grief and meet Christ more deeply.

I don't know if I'll ever see him again, but as we told his dear wife, we hope to come back for "Chapter 2" of his story. I don't think MY life will be complete without it.

The Unexpected Tragedy

When we returned to the office today after the hilarity of lunch and getting "lost" on the way back thanks to my ditziness in known lands, I had an email from my brother.

Mom recently came to the Cities, to Abbot Northwestern Hospital, for some tests on her heart. Well, they found a blockage. My brother said only that Mom needed surgery, family needed to be present, and he couldn't be there so call Mom.

So I did.

Mom has a blockage in one of her Coronary arteries, which are the arteries that supply blood to the heart itself. One of the tests she had was an angiogram, and the surgery required now is Angioplasty. For those unfamiliar, it means they send a little balloon into the artery to clear the blockage, and this includes many risks, although it is probably easily the least invasive heart surgery available.

I told Mom to schedule it according to what works. She was concerned about a meeting with her Insurance Agent that week. I told her to cancel it, he'll understand. (She worries about these kinds of things).

We also discussed the Sacraments: I told her she should be Anointed (Sacrament of the Sick), but she said she wasn't sure how to go about it. Part of the problem is that her own Pastor is out with his own health problems, so substitute priests are covering their parish. They never know who's coming, and often, they don't even arrive for scheduled Confessions on Saturday. She had thought, since there are rarely any lines anyway even if a priest DOES show up, that perhaps she could ask for the Sacrament then.

Well...given the improbability of this actually happening, she is going to contact another nearby parish, one with which she is familiar, and ask for Confession and Anointing. (I also told her Confession is part of the Last Sacrament, for those who are able, so even if she hadn't been to Confession they should be offering it).  I looked up the phone number for her and it sounds like she is familiar with and comfortable with the priests, one of whom was ordained only a year or two ago.

As soon as I learned of her surgery, I sent out prayer requests, and immediately the Grace was flowing, as prayers are being answered.

First, Mom is going into surgery on August 15, the Feast of the Assumption. She has a HUGE devotion to the Blessed Mother, and I can't help but recall that my one and only surgery was on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. My Mother's prayers gave me my devotion to Mary and brought me back to my Faith, even though she didn't know I was lost. Now I am grateful to see Our Lady's intercession with the date of Mom's heart surgery.

We grew up with the images of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and Immaculate Heart of Mary...clearly, they will be with Mom, and hopefully with her surgeon, anesthesiologist, surgical nurses, technicians, lab techs, etc etc ets.

Secondly, she is going to receive the Sacraments of Confession and Anointing at...Divine Mercy parish.

At least, if complications arise, we will have the comfort of knowing she will go to Our Lord having received His Most Divine Mercy, after a life of suffering, after a life of quiet devotion and unnoticed holiness.

But please, God, not yet. I'm clearly still lost, can't find my way, and still need my mother!

Prayer Requests:

Please pray for my friend as he prepares to leave this world, and when you pray the rosary, add an extra decade for the Christian Brothers and for students everywhere.  

Pray also for my Mom, who hopes to continue with we who still need her, yet she still has the humility to know she may be going into this and meeting eternal beatitude. Although my brother and I and our extended family want her forever in Jesus's arms,  we aren't quite finished with her and are praying this surgery is typical and uneventful and gives her back a bit more health so that she can enjoy the fresh air a bit longer. 

Thank you all who have already received this news and are praying, and thank you to all who pray upon learning this information now.

What do you seek when you dream of happiness?

This is a repost from October 2007, something always fitting for Friday, for throughout the year, on every Friday, we especially recall the Passion of Our Lord.



It is Jesus in fact that you seek when you dream of happiness, he is waiting for you when nothing else you find satisfies you; he is the beauty to which you are so attracted; it is he who provokes you with that thirst for fullness that will not let you settle for compromise; it is he who urges you to shed the masks of a false life; it is he who reads in your hearts your most genuine choices, the choices that others try to stifle.

It is Jesus who stirs in you the desire to do something great with your lives, the will to follow an ideal, the refusal to allow yourselves to be grounded down by mediocrity, the courage to commit yourselves humbly and patiently to improving yourselves and society, making the world more human and more fraternal.

~ John Paul II, World Youth Day, 2000 (Rome)

I have said before that I realized my life makes no sense apart from the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ; as time goes on, this realization is coming to be ever more meaningful. When I look at a crucifix and see the sacrifice of my Savior, it is clear that there is nothing more important than that, anywhere. If I never read another word, if I never sleep another night, if I never see another day, it doesn't matter; because Jesus' death on the cross reveals everything. That very moment in time is the meaning of life and the answer to death. All I have to do, for the rest of my life, is to look upon that cross...and become so enamored and unified that I become a living reflection, and let no other worldly concern pull me away from that goal of the perfection of charity. To love as God loves, that completely self-giving and wholly-self-sacrificing love.

God has willed us into being, out of his perfect love, and he holds us in existance. His grace is everything yet he requires but one thing from us: our willingness to cooperate with His plan for our lives. God calls us, each and every one, by our names, quietly guiding us, revealing his plan step by step. Each moment, we have a choice; accept or reject God's plan? Every moment of every day, we live out our choices and consequences of those choices, and each one either leads us toward the cross and self-sacrificing love, or causes us to flee into the selfishness of our own desires. There is always an option; do we act out of love? Or do we flee from the shadow of the cross?

Ultimately we must make that choice; are we willing to be crucified alongside our Lord, our happiness aligned with the deepest gift of self in accordance with God's own plan for us? Are we willing to offer ourselves to God every moment of every day?

Our own greatness resides in our humble acquiescence to walk in accordance with God's holy designs upon our lives. We are called to be holy; we are created for love, and we are formed to love as God loves.

When we look upon the cross, we should understand that this suffering is in fact the perfection of charity to which we should all aspire. And there is no greater glory to offer to God than to abandon ourselves and our entire lives into His loving hands.

*

How Long, O Lord?

Suffering is important and we can't escape it.  I know that I have often written of the need, and the call, to unite our sufferings to those of Christ, but the truth is that I seek to escape just as much as everyone else.

One of the things I have prayed for this Lent is to really SEE how many times I have caused Our Lord to weep over me as He did for Jerusalem.  I know I am in need of a very deep conversion, as I have allowed sin to rule my life in place of Jesus.

Truly, in order to grow in virtue, to eradicate sin, we have to recognize it, we have to renounce it, and we have to keep our eyes on Jesus. It is here that we suffer the most, for we recognize the damage done to our souls, maybe even our bodies, and our relationships because of our sin. Perhaps our suffering is at first self-centered, but in keeping our eyes on Jesus and on the Cross, that suffering is transformed to a recognition of something far greater, something that transcends even the most horrific temptations.  When we realize how far we can fall, and look upon the Cross to see Our Lord, who condescended to become one of us, to become one WITH us, what we find is that our love for Him begins to grow far stronger than the love for our favorite sins.

More and more, we desire to embrace Christ and live only for Him.  It is folly, then to try to run away from suffering, to be "positive" and deny the need to suffer during Lent, for it is only through embracing the Cross that we can EVER embrace Jesus.

How long, O Lord, have you wept over me as you wept over Jerusalem?  How long have I fled from you, how long have I denied you, how long have I been the cause of your suffering? 

Help me, Jesus, to embrace the Cross and die to myself so that I may one day become the cause of your joy.  

Amen

Contemplate the Cross

WHEN you are alone in your room, take your crucifix, kiss its five wounds reverently - tell it to preach you a little sermon and then listen to the words of eternal life that it speaks to your heart; listen to the pleading of the thorns, the nails, the precious Blood. Oh what an eloquent sermon!

~ St. Paul of the Cross, Flowers of the Passion

Today is the Memorial of St. Paul of the Cross, priest and founder of the Passionists. I have a special devotion to him for many reasons, although I am only now beginning to discover his writings. Devotion to the Passion of Our Lord is a rare thing, especially in today's culture that seeks to escape suffering...never to embrace it. Yet in contemplation of Jesus, how can anyone expect to really know and love Him without that perfect unitive love that comes ONLY through suffering?

It is ONLY through suffering that we can know Christ with any real intimacy. He invites us into His Passion, to contemplate His wounds, suffered for love of us. He gave all. The Father looks at us through the wounds of Our Lord, and through those same wounds, we are absorbed into Him and given the grace to rest, completely, within His Most Sacred Heart.

"Love is a unitive virtue which appropriates the sufferings of the Beloved."

Spend some time each day contemplating the Cross, seeking to unite yourself with the Passion of Our Lord. Recall that each time you attend Mass, you are kneeling at the very foot of the Cross, the one and only Sacrifice of Calvary, having just offered yourself as a holocaust in union with

Him. Know what you are seeking, know what is being made present to you, and know that it is possible to be completely lost within the wounds that bring us all to salvation...if we are only willing to drink deeply of that cup so freely offered for our sins.

"Would that I could set the whole world on fire with love of God!"

St. Paul of the Cross....PRAY FOR US!

Cross and Sorrow

I have a huge devotion to Our Mother of Perpetual Help, and am also developing a deep devotion, consistent with the Passionist spirituality, of devotion to Our Lady of Sorrows, whose memorial we celebrate today.

Recently in my Mariology class, the connection was made for me between OLPH and Our Lady of Sorrows. One of the two possible Gospel readings today spoke of the prophecy at the presentation of Christ at the Temple, where Simeon praised God even as he revealed to the Mother of God that her own heart would be pierced.

When we look upon an icon, any icon, we are drawn in to the mystery through the eyes of those portrayed. Our Lady of Perpetual Help portrays the Mystery of our Redemption as she holds the child Jesus, who sought comfort in her arms as the shadow of the Cross and the implements of his crucifixion and torture fell over him. The very point that pierced the side of Christ was the very same as that which pierced her own heart. She is revealed both in the cited gospel

and the other for today, her presence at the Cross, as the Mother of Sorrows.

She invites us into that sorrow, for she is our mother and knows that without sorrow, without suffering, there can be no redemption. We are invited to penetrate the Mystery of our salvation by becoming a willing part of it.

So you see, it is no surprise that the Memorial of Our Mother of Sorrows follows upon the Feast of the Exultation of the Cross.

Although so many want to look at the Crucifixion of Christ as a one-time event (which it was), they ignore the second part of the teaching on the Cross; that we are called to it as well. We cannot experience the exultation without the experience of sorrow, for Christ Himself was a man of sorrows. Consider His Agony in the Garden; His sorrow in recognizing the need for our redemption was so great that it was not His Passion that caused Him to sweat blood, but the reality of sin in the world. It was that reality that made His Passion and Death necessary, and even as He meditated upon the sin of the past and future from that point....Jesus said yes.

But Our Lady had to say Yes before Jesus could in His humanity. It is said that "All of heavenand earth held their breath" awaiting her fiat to the Angel Gabriel. Our Blessed Mother greatly pondered the greeting of the angel, and in her humility bowed her head and said, "I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done to me according to Thy Word." And the Word was made flesh, the living Torah, as the Holy Spirit overshadowed Mary just as God had once overshadowed Mt. Sinai, the tents of the Hebrews in the desert, and the Ark of the Covenant, and the Holy of Holies. He overshadowed her and she conceived, saying "Yes" not just to that moment, but to every moment.

Mary didn't just say "yes" to bearing the Messiah, but to everything that came with that. When we gaze upon icons portraying our Redemption, we realize that she said yes to that, to sharing Our Lord's suffering, and that of the entire Church. We see her ongoing fiat as, in the Gospel of John, she remained at the foot of the Cross when all but the Apostle John had long run away. She remained, keeping vigil in her great sorrow, trusting in the Triumph of her Son

...for she knew who He was.

Mary is the woman of Revelation 12, whose offspring (Jesus) was taken up to heaven as she fled into the desert, and the dragon (Satan), angry, went off to make war on her offspring. It is we, the Church, who are her offspring. That day, at the foot of the Cross, Jesus gave her to John, who Himself stood in for Christ, and Mary, for the Church. At Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit overshadowed she and the Apostles together, the day we celebrate as the birthday of the Church, we see her expanded maternity.

Mary is the woman of Genesis , John and Revelation who is in travail; not at the birth of Christ, but at the foot of the Cross and forever after that. Her greatest suffering comes not from a single point of agony, but from the reality of sin in the lives of her children, we, the adopted sons and daughters of God. She is in travail because we run from the Cross, and she calls us back, pointing to Christ, pointing to the Cross, for our redemption is there.

We cannot run from that shadow, for no matter how far we go, we cannot escape suffering. It is only through understanding the suffering and triumph of the Cross that we can give definition to our own sorrows. It is the Cross that brings us through everything that comes our way, and there, in union with Christ, it is overcome.

Psalm 57 reveals this truth:

Have mercy on me, O Lord, have mercy.

Under the shadow of your wings

I will take refuge

Until the storms of destruction pass by

We must be willing to flee to the shadow of His wings and embrace the Cross, letting it change us. Let the Cross be our guide, recognize the suffering of Our Lord that brings us through that terrible Cross and into His Glory.

Look at Our Mother of Sorrows, perhaps in the comforting light of Our Mother of Perpetual Help. She gazes at us, pointing to Christ, but inviting us into the mystery, her own sorrow exposed. She invites us to join her Son, to feel the cold shadow of the Cross and know that it is our destiny as well, if we would only stop running away.

Will we let our own hearts be pierced, or will we continue to flee, to fight the suffering that in the end, if we embrace it, conforms us to Christ Himself?

If we aren't willing to live the Cross, we will never find our way to eternal life.

Lord, by Your cross and resurrection, you have set us free. You are the Savior of the world.

Our Mother of Sorrows....pray for us!

Everyone's an Expert

Disclaimer: I'm about to be brutally honest but there's an apology at the end.And my own advice for you, for which as you see, I'm entitled. I'm still sorry. Please forgive me.

Cornering the Professional

It's a plague in our society, and one we ALL face, if from different perspectives.

Imagine this: you go to a summer barbecue and while you're catching up with a friend you haven't seen in awhile, you overhear a conversation a few feet away. Out of the corner of your eye you see the person being accosted is looking around desperately for a way to make a quick exit. And you notice this because you yourself have worn that same mask of polite listening while your mind has been working overtime to both listen so as to respond with gentility and yet somehow find a way to be "busy" immediately.

What's going on?

Well, the interlocutor has just found out the deer-in-the-headlights guy is a doctor and she wants some advice on a growth on the back of her neck, or maybe about her husband's club foot or her daughter's "womanly problems" (and said daughter is on the far side of the nearby picnic table wearing an expression of horror as she realizes her mother is divulging very sensitive and private information to someone with whom she now must socialize).

In fact, when she meets that doctor, to whom her mother is going to learn is single and available, she knows that doctor is going to be thinking, “Honey, you’re nice but I know WAY too much about your vagina and don’t want to live my life hearing about it from your mother!”

But he’ll shake your hand politely as you blush because you BOTH know what’s really going on and you BOTH forgive each other if not your mother in that moment. And maybe you end up getting married and raising a family together in spite of all that improper personal information.

Oh, yes. We've all seen it happen, if not with the Disney ending, and we've all been on the wrong end of that scenario, (maybe not exactly, I hope!) Perhaps we've even been the offending party. (And really, I HOPE NOT and sorry guys, but that is REALLY what some mothers will do!)

Now, in that particular scenario, it is legitimate experts who are being questioned and asked to give free advice. If you're a doctor, a lawyer, a police officer, an insurance broker or agent, insurance claims adjuster, or nurse (among other careers!) you're reading this and nodding along, because YOU'VE been the one trying to flee the conversation more times than you can count! In your personal life, you hear more intimate permissionless details about more people and their problems than you do in a single day at the office! Continue nodding....I know this is true. If you're NOT nodding, then you were hired only yesterday. Read this post again in a week.

In our society, expertise is highly valued, as it should be, and to be fair, most people DO respect the fact that these professionals are entitled to time off. They do NOT need to be accosted at church events, random barbecues, cotillions, quinceaneros, picnics, or while waiting in line at the grocery store. They knew, going into their fields, that their area of expertise was going to subject them to people without boundaries, but they are still human and even the greatest of experts among us need some time off before they burn out and people die because they are so stressed from never having time to be a human being that they start making bad decisions and amputate the head instead of the appendix. Or in court, maybe they'll defend a divorce instead of a murder (although there's not much difference.)

Armchair Quarterbacks

The funny thing is, though, that with all this advice-asking going around, there are also a lot of people who are sudden "experts" in any given category that simply has their interest. If Mr. Offensive Interlocultor actually got an answer from a lawyer on a complicated legal issue when accosting the poor guy at a social event, he suddenly becomes a legal expert and will pass on his incomplete advice to someone with any kind of a related issue. And thus, his unprofessional "advice" is actually quite distorted for even HE didn't get a complete answer and in fact, selectively ignored the very REAL advice of the attorney trying to get away from him, to hire his own counsel so that the case could be evaluated accurately and resolved appropriately.

Oh, yes, we all know people who fit into this category as well.

When it comes to people who are in very serious need, though, amazingly the default of most people is to limit their OWN advice and to direct that person to a competent authority for their problem. They might have names of people with whom they've had good experiences, proper professional offices or organizations and the like. They realize, even if they are usually from the advice-giver category that some things are still too big for them and in their sincere good will, they know someone else is better qualified. I find it very interesting that in these cases, those people take a step back and become champion supporters and for once, hold their tongues and ask, "what does your doctor say?" or "what does your lawyer say?" before they hop into presumption-of-personal-expert mode and start advising away.

(Flannery O'Connor might disagree with the above paragraph, but I'm trying to assume the best of people.)

I think if I were to study sociology, I'd do a dissertation on this particular social behavior encompassed in this post.

Of course, as you might expect, I have another point to make.

Vocational Experts Without a License

All of the above goes out the window or is entirely reversed in the case of vocational discernment.

If a man or woman reveals that they are discerning a religious vocation, or priesthood, even if they've done a great deal of research, have a spiritual director, a discernment group, etc., suddenly everyone OUTSIDE of those groups becomes a self-appointed expert.

Suddenly, the person or people who know the MOST about the topic are relegated to the intellectual and spiritual equivalent of an infant. People who know NOTHING about what the discerner has been through or what OFFICIAL advice they have been given and which they are faithfully following take them "under their wings" and immediately start firing off completely unneeded or even illogical advice about what they should do, where they should go, what they should be doing, the pitfalls, and even try to DICTATE specific communities or seminaries to them!

This type of advice also assumes the person's spiritual advisor or group must be fully incompetent or the person in question would already be a priest, professed religious, or 20 years married.

My dear readers, I know this for two reasons: I've experienced it repeatedly and because I blog about it, I've gotten emails and Facebook messages from other people experiencing the SAME DANG THING!

It's a PLAGUE I tell you! A plague!

What's really annoying is that many of the advice-givers will impart their lack of wisdom while pointing out smugly that "God speaks through people who know and love you!" so as to shut down any possibility that we can turn down their “obviously-perfect” expertise about something they've never actually discerned for themselves.

We who are discerning are also aware that most of our self-appointed prophets aren't actually privy to the Divine Processions, and if they were, they wouldn't all be giving advice that directly conflicts with that of everyone else and that of our own Spiritual Directors or those of similar privileged status.

I really find this to be fascinating, and really can't explain it without more study, and maybe something scientific (as opposed to pure experience/observation).

Why IS it, exactly, that, outside of the discernment of vocation, people are ASKING advice, but when it comes to this topic, they are ALL experts?

Why IS it that when a woman says she is considering religious life everyone has a favorite CARMELITE monastery?

Why is it that when she says she likes the Dominicans everyone assumes she's never heard of the Nashville Dominicans (Dominican Sisters of St. Cecelia) or their offshoot, the Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist? Where do you think she got her first interest in the Dominicans (given this culture)? And why can’t they understand that the fact she knows about them, she is not discerning them any longer for specific reasons?

Or of course, when she says she's discerned some Order or Congregation, the unsolicited "expert", without batting an eye, immediately begins to discuss how she should prepare to enter the local Carmelite monastery and she herself would be willing to accompany her and will arrange the entrance Mass?

Why is it that even when the discerner says God is leading her to visit a particular convent, everyone STILL suggests she check out 10 other of their favorite communities, and the first on their list is a Carmelite cloister, perhaps the one in India?

Seriously. I wish I was kidding.

 The second to the favorite Carmelites are the Franciscan communities, which often, people who recommend them don't even know whether they wear habits or not, or what their apostolate is or whether or not they are faithful to the Magisterium of have their own brand of "Catholicism".

These "experts" usually don't know the first thing about what they're recommending.

I'm sorry, but it's true. I’ve experienced nearly ALL of the above. What I haven’t, other discerners who have contacted me HAVE.

We’re not angry!!!! Please note and read on! 

We’re just exhausted from the battle to stay true to the course we’re on while fending off the improper course and timeline YOU think we’re supposed to be following.

The reality is, we suspect, is that unsolicited "experts" actually are taking an opportunity to give their own view, perhaps because they never properly discerned their OWN vocation and are trying to live vicariously through those who are. Maybe they just want to feel needed. Maybe giving advice is something they do every minute of every day and they aren't aware they're doing it.

The one thing I do find to be constant is that those who give advice DO HONESTLY CARE and unfortunately, they're also very sensitive sorts who take it personally when someone doesn't seem to want or need their advice. They will feel very hurt for a very long time if their advice isn't followed or accepted without question.

And actually, that's what makes these recent blog posts so hard. Because I KNOW that in outright refusing and even condemning unsolicited advice, I am unintentionally offending people I have no desire to offend.

But I'm not a rug and am tired of feeling like one. If that offends some people, so be it.

Discernment is hard enough without having to go around feeling like we have to defend and justify our actions, lack of actions, feelings or lack of feelings, decisions or lack of decisions at every single turn.

I feel I have to speak up on behalf of myself and EVERYONE in discernment because we're tired of being offended ourselves by people who don't seem to think that we can possibly interpret God's will for us without them. And yes, often unsolicited advice is outright offensive. And no, we don't tell you this because we love you, too, and know that your intentions are good and that you don't mean any offense either!

Again...if you've been strong enough to read this far, please know, we love you, we respect you, we thank you for your prayers and support. But please, please, please, stop telling us inane things like "stop trying so hard!" or "go to this monastery" or "give up your dog now so you don't have to find someone later" or "My niece entered X abbey, and she's happy so you would be too". And dear God, if I hear one more time of the rumor that I am delaying because I'm looking for "the prettiest habit" I think I might puke. Really; I don't care about fashion NOW, what makes you think I care about religious fashions? (Except for the habit thing; I do desire to wear a habit for I have discerned it is important. That has no bearing on what others discern...only me.)

We have certain people to whom we are listening. We have certain people who know more details, respect us enough to know we're trying as hard as we need to, and who have assured us that our agony isn't a type that needs comfort, for it is a purifying agony that a vacation with our dog or cat or a ski trip out West won't cure (especially in July when Aspen is devoid of useful snow). *sigh...my dust-gathering skis...*

One more point: the people I know who are legitimate experts in things RARELY offer their advice without being asked, and if they do so, they do so cautiously and with a disclaimer. There are a few people in my life who are not in my designated set of advisors and to whom I will listen because they are "experts" who cautiously advance their advice, and are humble enough to realize I might ignore them (and that it's not personal!). In their advice, they encourage me to go to my SD, they encourage me to ignore them if their advice conflicts with anything "official", etc.

Please be gentle with people who are discerning their Vocations. If you are privileged enough to hear them express to you, through a blog or personally, that they have been or are going through a rough time, please do not minimize the experience, don’t “poo-poo” it, don’t try to “fix” it in any way.

They know where to go.

Especially in the case of “blog revelation”, know that unless you know this person directly, you probably don’t have the right to offer any advice at all. And if you DO know them personally and they haven't asked you directly for advice...well...then you're not one of the few. Sorry. Again: nothing personal. They love you. Be assured of that. 

To my friend-readers who know me personally, know that I love you and thank you with every fibre of my being and if it weren't for your PRAYERS or physical support (watching my dog, my house, driving me to the airport and picking me up, paying my mortgage for 2 months, taking my Adoration hour on the Saturdays I'm gone, etc), I wouldn't be able to focus so much on God's voice that HAS to come out of the fray.

This post is not personal. It’s not directed at anyone. And in fact, it was written on behalf of all souls, everywhere, who are discerning Vocations and have been the hapless recipients of well intentioned people who would be horrified if they knew the angst they were causing with their own “advice”.

I apologize to all my readers and my friends, whether you read this now or will find out about it in the future. I hope my honesty isn’t hurtful for anyone.

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May the peace of Christ be with you, always. And please continue to support Vocations to the priesthood and religious life! Remember advice is cheap...it is only hard labor that really expresses love.

Jesus made that VERY plain to us all when He suffered His Passion and died on the Cross for us. If that's not hard labor, I don't know what is!

As I recall, Jesus didn't give advice from the Cross...he was too busy living it as an example to the rest of us.

Now...go overwhelm your parish Vocations Committee  with offers to drive people to the airport, watch pets, pay debts, etc etc etc that applies to legitimate need. Prayers and ACTION make Vocations happen. Not advice.

God bless you all, and again...thank you.

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How Long Must I Wait?

Love is so hard to comprehend. I don't understand it it all.

Yes, I've written about it theologically, and I believe that God's love is personal, but for some reason, I can't internalize the depth and witdth and breadth of Our Lord's love.

Growing up, I heard over and over how God the Father loves us, how the Holy Spirit loves us, and how Jesus loves us. We sang about it in songs. Yet, the words and chintzy tunes weren't enough. They revealed...nothing. God always seemed in some sense, impersonal and aloof. Certainly I agreed that His Sacrifice on the Cross was personal, but in my mind, it was personal to us collectively and He didn't really know me. He was like a celebrity, one who might be very kind to me if he met me, but would recognize me no more than would, say, David Hasselhoff. I was just one of millions saying, "I love you Jesus!"

Even as an adult, it's hard to grasp such deep, personal, and truly passionate love. Even though I have the theology and can express Thomistically and in Augustinian language the fact that Christ's Sacrifice was personal in the most intimate sense, this truth is something that hasn't yet truly brought me to my knees.

I've experienced bona fide miracles, and all the time I witness answers to prayers, both of mine and those of my friends. Little prayers are often answered in big, obvious ways. Even so, I simply can't grasp that God's love for us is truly tangible and real.

Honestly, I can barely even write about how personal is His love. Over and over, when I've written on this topic, I tend to make it impersonal, using terms like "we" and "us". Certainly that IS true, and in using those terms I do want to help others understand that this love is for them, maybe if I was being honest I'd have to say that the personal pronouns are too difficult. I need to "diffuse" this love of God to spread it out, because it's so strong that to understand it would bowl me over.

As it stands, I have a hard time truly accepting God's love for...me.

My response to such a revelation has always been, and remains even now, "How can this be?!?"

Lately, when looking at different pictures of Jesus, what has stood out the most has been the wounds on His hands. No matter how sterile and bloodless the picture, the artist has always taken care to portray the wounds left by the nails that pierced Jesus' hands. Every time I see these pictures, I want to stop and lose myself in that image, hide within those wounds. Even as I flinch back in guilt at what I've done, I am drawn forward with a love I cannot deny or refuse.

How dare I write about this love? How can I write about loving Jesus if I struggle so hard to accept His love for me?

This evening before Mass I was musing about this and wonder if perhaps the reason for this dichotomy is actually very simple: we don't know what love really is. In our puny, imperfect human love, we set boundaries, restrictions and conditions, even disorder. Then, when we are confronted with the perfect, personal, unconditional and unrelenting love of Jesus, we realize immeditely that we must accept it on His terms

I was almost overcome in that moment of prayer, still not understanding, but coming a little closer to His Most Sacred Heart. His Heart, the source of all love, that teaches me I don't have to understand in order to accept, that He is only asking me to trust.

Sacred Heart of Jesus...have mercy on us.

Sacred Heart of Jesus...have mercy on us.

Sacred Heart of Jesus...have mercy on us.

Immaculate Heart of Mary....pray for us!

Vulnerability

It is not easy to follow Christ.

There's a line in John Paul II's Stations of the Cross that always strikes me: he speaks of how it was Peter's love for Jesus that set him up for failure. When Jesus was arrested, Peter followed Him. It was in this act of following Our Lord that his faith was confronted, and he faltered. Not once, not twice, but three times. Thrice, he denied Our Lord.

We are no different. This morning I was pondering my own failures, and how I was so ready to run away from discernment, from any vocation at all.

And then I met the uncondemning gaze of Christ, and was ashamed. No one ever said discernment is easy. It's not. It's brutal. To discern one's vocation is to follow Christ into the very pits of Hell, if He so beckons. It means to come under the same scourge, to be weighed down, with Him, under the weight of the Cross. It means we must have a willingness to stretch out our own hands and offer everything we have, everything we are, everything we have ever been or will ever be. It is an act of total surrender.

That very act is what brings us to failure. Not God's failure, but ours. We have to confront ourselves. We have to fall to the ground and die so that He can raise us up to new life.

Even outside of the context of discernment, all of us, in following Christ, has to enter into His Passion and pass through it. It's the only way to become who we are called to be as children of God.

We have to become vulnerable and risk everything so that Our Lord can act in us. We have to be willing to set ourselves up for failure for it is only through those failures that we can be purified and learn humility.

If we truly desire to know Christ, and claim that we love Him, we have to be willing to follow Him everywhere, no matter how often or how hard we fall. He will never abandon us.

Will we abandon Him?
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Deathwatch

It seems I'm always at work when I get bad news.  In high school, I was at work when I learned of the death of a recent ex-boyfriend, with whom I'd spoken only a week before.

A few years ago, a friend called me at work to notify me of the death of another friend which had taken place on Holy Thursday.  She'd lost my new home number and left desperate messages for me at work. When I called her back, she told me how Amber had died in a wreck en route to work.  

When my Grandmother died, I was at work when my brother called me.  On that occasion I was the only person on my team in that day, we were buried in new claims, and I'd gone to the bathroom to try to get ahold of myself. I'd known my own would let me leave, but we had so much to do, I felt like I had to stay. Thank God two other managers in our office talked some sense into me as I was clearly in no position to do my job.  

Even the day my Dad died,  back when I was 20, I was at work and expecting a phone call at any moment.  No, I didn't get the news at work, for once, but he passed away while I was there, waiting. On deathwatch.  He was in another state and I had gone to work needing to keep busy while we awaited the news.  

So it came as no surprise to me today when Mom called me at work to deliver yet more bad news.  

After I hung up the phone, I sat at my desk tearfully, wondering if I could avoid the world for awhile. I grabbed my rosary to pray Divine Mercy for P., my friend.  Before I even got into the first decade, I heard someone come in and ask for me. My phone rang; the secretary telling me he was there. I'd forgotten about the parent who was coming in to pick up some paperwork, and quickly tried to pull myself together. Hoping it looked only like I had a cold or allergies. That's so much easier to explain.  

After he'd left, I told our secretary the news I'd gotten, managing to remain dry-eyed. She's not one who can easily deal with suffering, so I quickly took myself back to my office. As she left for the day she called out to me that it must be a lot like losing my Dad again. Because, she said, ever since her own mother had died, it was harder to lose certain female figures in her life, especially those who had had a particularly "motherly" role. 

I was so glad, in that moment, that she couldn't see the effect her words had on me. In a sense, she's right.  Although my Dad also helped me learn to drive, P. was more available and was the first to step in at my Mom's request.  He was also the one who taught me to shoot, and in so many ways was a father-figure to me, even though I didn't really make that connection until this afternoon.  

And now...we're losing him.  And, just like my Dad, I haven't seen this dear friend in a few years, either. The last time I saw P.  was at the funeral of a relative a couple years ago. While there, his wife had said to me, "You've always been so special to him."  

I'll never forget those words, and how guilty I feel, having lost touch for so long.  

He's always been special to me, too.  And I'm so sorry I won't ever get a chance to say that to him. I can only hope he knows that.  My life is better because of his involvement in it, because of the support he gave my family during some very difficult years, and because of the personal interest he took in me and my life. I know that some of what I accomplished was directly related to his own intervention.  

So, I guess, in a sense, as I listen to the ticking of the clock tonight,  I'm waiting and watching for the death of another type of father in my life.  

Agony

Maybe it's appropriate, this week, to experience this deathwatch.  

As Christ prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, what did His followers do but sleep, when they should have been praying?

Jesus knew His time was near, and even James and John, His closest cohorts, could not stay awake to watch.  But they were present.  

They didn't realize they were supposed to be waiting.  

But Christ did. He knew. He waited.  He watched, and He as the first to see the flames of the torches coming. 

Not much is said of the theological implications of waiting, but it's there. Christ Himself experienced it.  When we know something is coming, when the Hour has come, we go, defeated, and if that Hour is delayed for any reason, it only prolongs our agony as we have worked so hard to prepare ourselves for what is to happen. 

Something happens to us when we know a battle is done. We want it only to be over. And in between that realization and the final event, we die a thousand deaths. We are resigned to what is to occur. It is not that we devalue ourselves or those we are losing; rather, it is that sense of complete surrender, self-abandonment to God's will. Knowing He is in charge, knowing that once the final event happens, then we can move on, but until then, we suffer for and with the victim.

Agony, you see, is never personal; it belongs to all.  

This is what allows us to enter into Christ's own Agony; He does not keep it for Himself, but is willing to share if we but ask to join Him. This is His consolation in the Garden.  This is what the Angel represented: those who were willing to approach the Beloved Lamb of God, realizing that His suffering was necessary, redemptive, and not to be borne alone even though we ARE the cause of it.  

So tonight, and as long as necessary, I guess all of us who await the death of a loved one enter into the shadows of this haunting garden, and together, we hold the hands of Our Lord who has been here waiting for us.  

Can you hear the clock ticking?  Can you hear the soft sound of your own heartbeat in the silence, counting the moments of life? 

The Hour draws near. 

Kiss of Death

I've been thinking a lot lately about Judas, and how much I resemble him.  I recently watched The Passion of the Christ again, and the scene that stood out to me this time was near the beginning.  There is something in the way he furtively leaves the Last Supper and goes to receive his payment for betrayal. 

There is something in the way the money bag flies through the air; and as Judas desperately and clumsily reaches out to catch the

 offhand throw, the money falls at his feet and scatters.  He is helpless to stop it.  He looks up at the crowd that stares back at him dispassionately and with an air of condescension, then with an attitude of desperate greed Judas drops to the ground to quickly gather up the silver he was paid for the blood of Christ who had ordained him that very evening.

He looks up at the soldiers, and the fear in his eyes cannot be mistaken. It seems he is already regretting his act.  And yet, he goes into the Garden, and there finds Jesus waiting for him. The man he had followed, the man who had washed his feet, even knowing of the betrayal to come.  The One who had shown him ONLY love...and gave him the free will to do what he set out to do. 

Then, when Judas returns to the Garden with the soldiers, how does the betrayal occur?  Through a kiss. An expression of love. 

How many times have I expressed love to Christ while bearing hatred in my heart in some way?

How many times have I begged Jesus for His love, while I pondered my next sin, my very betrayal of His own love?  

Judas flees, realizing what he's done.  The movie shows his torment and ultimate demise; suicide. 

Yes, he sinned in his betrayal, but that sin was forgivable.  He could have come to the Cross.  He could have come to Christ an any time and made his repentance clear.  He could have been forgiven.  

Just as I've been forgiven, over and over, for my many betrayals.  

Because, every time I sin, I  give Christ the same kiss of death.  The very same. 

We look to Peter, whose love, as beloved John Paul II pointed out, set him up for failure. It was in how Peter followed Christ to his scourging that put him in the position to be confronted, and where he denied him.  Three times.  

Judas denied Christ only ONCE; when he betrayed him. The betrayal was a single, seamless act.   Peter denied him THREE times.

Yet their stories are very different.  Peter continued to follow Christ.  He truly loved Him and could not stay away.  He repented of his denial.  When Our Lord appeared a few days later on the sea shore, Peter was so excited that he didn't wait for the boat to pull up...he leapt overboard and SWAM to Jesus, where he was given three chances to overcome his three denials.

Our God is a God of Mercy.  Infinite mercy. 

Judas, though, betrayed Christ, ran away...and stayed away.  It was his rejection of God's love that lead him into such complete despair that he saw no other way out than suicide.  

How many times have I rejected God's love?  In choosing to sin, not only have I betrayed Him, but I've rejected Him. 

How many times has Our Lord come after me, in spite of and because of the fact that He was nailed to the Cross on my behalf?  

How many times have I been tempted to avoid Confession because I've thought my sins were greater than God's own mercy?  

How many times have I turned my back on Jesus because Mercy was inconvenient to my Pride?

Judas was the first to leave Mass right in the middle, and completely missed the consecration which took place as Christ died upon the Cross.   Judas left right after his own ordination, only to bring destruction when he returned.  And ultimately, he missed the biggest moment of all. 

Judas did repent, but he repented to the wrong authority; rather than going to Christ, the one whom He'd wronged, God himself whom he betrayed, he tried to give back the tangible evidence of his sin.  

How many times have I tried to undo my own wrong only to make things worse?

How many times have those efforts been rejected because the ones in whom I sought comfort were the same ones who led me into sin to begin with?

How many times have I looked to myself for salvation, thinking I could fix things on my own?

Had Judas gone to Jesus, Our Lord would have taken him back, and although He would not have "undone" the damage, he would have helped Judas to carry that cross he'd so willingly embraced.  What was done was done, but Jesus understands everything. 

He asks only one thing; humility.  That in our sin, we recognize our sin, repent of it, and embrace the effects of that sin.  None of us is immune.  

This year, I'm trying to recognize each time I kiss Jesus in an act of betrayal, and have found even this short project to be maybe a little more than I can bear.  Yet it has been such a blessing, reminding me that whenever God reveals sin, He also reveals His Mercy. 

Lately I've been fleeing His mercy, realizing my own lack of repentance, my own failings.  Yet Our Lord has come after me, refusing to let me go. I've been astonished at His guidance, unable to deny what He has done.  

And yet, I look at Judas, and I see myself. If not in reality, then at least in the danger that has tempted me. To betray Christ, to run away, and even to be lost forever. I can understand why Judas did what he did; why he died at the end of a rope.  I've known that temptation as well and have been spared it only by the grace of God.  

Death is not what Our Lord wills.  He did not will for Judas to despair. He did not will for Judas to betray Him. The reality was that Judas did these things all on his own.  Jesus suffered greatly on account of Judas, whom He loved dearly.

It was Judas who rejected Jesus; not the other way around.  It was Judas who ran away and gave in to despair. He refused God's mercy.  

The reality is that the kiss Judas gave to Jesus was a betrayal not of Christ alone, but of himself.  He died in that moment, and he knew it. It was that very misuse of an act and symbol of love that truly revealed the state of Judas's soul. And if he could so warp love, how, in his mind, could he come back? 

Through Christ, and Christ alone.  For Jesus went willingly to his Passion and death.  He went, and would have taken Judas with Him, but instead, Judas refused the uncondemning gaze of Jesus whose last words to him were, 

"Would you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?"  

A statement, a question...not a condemnation. 

Jesus, I trust in Thee.