Why is Prayer So Difficult?

In the previous post, How to Listen to God, Faith posits the question, "I understand that praying isn't easy. My question, is: Why is this so?"

Isn't that another great question???  Thanks, Faith.  :-)

Let's go back to the definition of prayer:  prayer is a conversation with God.

Conversations are easy, right?

Well...er...sure. Sometimes. Yes. No...well, maybe...or...not so much.  Hmmmm.

I think I'd answer it like this:  Prayer is easy.  WE are difficult!

When we look at Faith's question in light of the most basic definition of prayer, and recall that the other party in the conversation is God, the Creator of the Universe, our Father, our Beloved Savior, the Holy Spirit who groans on our behalf for the words we cannot speak., well, that can sometimes seem a bit overwhelming. Perhaps it challenges our faith to recognize that God truly wants this relationship with us and is inviting our participation.

Remember:  God is immutable. 

He does not change. He cannot change.

When we pray, therefore, we are forced to recognize who we are in the face of God, and sometimes He holds up a mirror, and the reflection there ain't so pretty, is it? Sometimes we get a good look at ourselves through His eyes because we've got a few flaws He wants to point out, and perhaps we don't want to see those flaws. Or perhaps we KNOW they are there but we don't really want to recognize them, or work on them. We'd rather just push past that mirror of self-knowledge and say, "Yeah, God, I know all that, but I really really really want to experience the heights of ecstasy like St. Teresa of Avila. Can't you make just one tiny exception...for me? Please? Pretty-pretty-please with sugar on top?"

And there God sits, immovable, loving us as we squirm under His directed, uncondemning gaze. We try to look away, but we just can't...and there we sit. That's kind of a prayer-killer, there, isn't it?

Think about it:  when we look away and refuse to take that mirror into our own hands, go to Confession, and own up to the fact we have a lot of sins holding us back from fulfilling our end of our relationship with God, we're the ones sticking a fork in prayer. We're the ones being difficult. The responsibility for that rests solely upon ourselves.

Sin isn't the only problem making prayer difficult, though, is it?

I don't know about you, but I have often found that, especially when I have sinned seriously, or maybe not mortally but enough to make me feel especially bad about something, my prayer life gets a bit wacky. Sometimes I'm almost afraid to pray, but always, always, if I take my sorry self to the chapel to pray, or open up the Liturgy of the Hours, God gives me certain consolations, and often those consolations are exactly what buoys me right into the line for Confession, even if I'm shaking in my shoes.  Then, the moment I'm out of Confession and offer my penance and pray a prayer of thanksgiving for God's mercy, BANG! I suddenly can't seem to pray anymore!

At times I've sat almost shell-shocked in the chapel, staring at the Blessed Sacrament, asking Jesus, "Hey! Where did You go? Come back!"

In that case, I've removed the obstacle of sin, but there I am, in the desert. Spiritually, that desert is stretching far in front of me...and even though Jesus is right there, I can't "feel" Him anymore. I know intellectually all the theological stuff that tells me He is right there and especially after Confession when I've managed not to sin for about 30 seconds or so, that the Holy Spirit burns within my soul...but Jesus just sits there and looks at me stoically, asking, "Are you still going to talk to me even when it's hard?"

Yes, Lord. Thy Will Be Done.  *ow*!

This is a lesson often spoken of through the Spiritual Masters:  dryness in prayer. 

When we first begin to pray, and we are falling in love with Jesus, there may be a certain spiritual high. We are doing something new and exciting, maybe we are reading about the great mystics and, their words for God and about God still burning on the pages of their journals, we, too are ignited and desire with all our hearts that same kind of love for God...and that knowledge of God's love for us.

So it is that we sometimes experience emotional "highs"; we may weep during prayer, we feel a deep emotional joy, we may look forward to any moment we can get to pray.

Over time, though, that tends to fade. Prayer isn't as pleasurable anymore. We haven't experienced the heights of mystical ecstasy, we haven't seen any apparitions or heard any Divine voices. Maybe we struggle just to pray a single Hail Mary or Our Father, and we feel guilty, for maybe we fear we have fallen out of love with God.

Maybe we even stop feeling pleasure at attending Mass; it becomes more of a drudgery than a joy, and we deeply feel a sense of guilt about t his, and perhaps don't even want to bring it up to anyone for fear they may point at us and scream HERETIC! YOU HATE GOD!

It's easy to romance the idea of the Saints at prayer, but the reality of their prayer lives was the daily drudgery of it. The constant conversation with God, the sheer tedium; that is what truly brought them to holiness. Not a single Saint was canonized because God granted them infused prayer; they were canonized because they persevered even when  or perhaps especially when prayer itself was a trial.

What is the Purpose of Prayer?

If you struggle with prayer, ask yourself what you're trying to get out of it. What are YOUR goals? WHY are you praying?

Then take a step back and look at God. Ask Him what He gets out of this relationship with us. Realize...nothing. God doesn't get ANYTHING out of it. He doesn't NEED us, but rather, WE need HIM! God created us entirely for Himself and wills our good - only our good! Our very ability to pray is in and of itself a pure gift from God.

Prayer is the way we come to know and love God, and through the Sacraments which lead us more deeply into prayer, we become sanctified.  The purpose, then, of prayer...is to make us Holy!

It's so easy to forget that. We all have long laundry lists of needs and wants. We have unrequited desires, deep wounds in need of healing, fears for loved ones...and a will that needs to be purified.

God Will Not Be Manipulated

In going back to the original question - why is prayer so difficult - I stated that prayer is not difficult:  We are!

We are fallen, and in our fallen nature we try to manipulate others to get what we want. We are selfish, self-centered, egotistical little worms and we usually do things because those things make us feel good or get us something that we want. We do good for others because it makes us feel good to do so; ergo, for a selfish reason. Over time this basic childish tendency can be tempered as we begin to do good things for others because it is RIGHT, even if at times we must suffer for doing the right thing.

In our relationships with others, using the office as an example, we tend to do good things for our co-workers because we know it might advance our careers. Certainly ethics are involved; I'm not saying we all go around trampling on others to get what we want, but rather, we look at the ends we desire and we do what we can in our current positions so as to advance over the guy in the next cube. "If I volunteer to take that overtime on July 4 that no one wants, that's a big star in my file and might be the thing to tip the next promotion in my favor...".  Sure, we might tell our teammates, or just let them think we're "taking at hit for the team" but no, we're just manipulating the team.

Even in the closest friendships, we do the same thing; we humans have a HUGE capacity for manipulation, and unfortunately, that sometimes transfers over into prayer.

All too often we go to prayer and tell God what WE want, and when the outcome is not what we dictate to Him, we become angry with God. We rail at Him, curse Jesus in taking His name in vain, stamp our little feet, cry, scream and say we're going to leave the Church unless He does what we tell Him to do.

If that kind of response to God's disobedience to us isn't part of our temperament, then maybe we delve into more passive-aggressive techniques designed to put Him in His place, such as using devotions in a superstitious or talismanic manner, or looking for "prayer" techniques that might get us what we want when we want it while bypassing the pesky necessity of God's Will.

(Are you squirming yet? I am. Aren't you glad God is merciful? I am.)

We forget that God is immutable; our temper tantrums and techniques are not part of His plan.  Certainly He may respond favorably to our prayers IN SPITE of ourselves, but we must remember:  God cannot be manipulated. He laughs at our attempts.

Sometimes we even delude ourselves, saying that this or that "technique" or even "devotion" is what got us something like a certain consolation. We forget that healthy skepticism is also important; we are not blind fools; to be so is an insult to God who created our intellects and will in His own image. We sometimes forget the lessons of self-knowledge, comforting ourselves by the delusion that our complicated techniques won for us a feeling of euphoria when in actuality, all we did was hyperventilate and get too much oxygen into our brains. Or maybe we just saw "signs" that weren't there but through our own wishful interpretation in ignorance of reality.

Here's the Final Blow - Brace Yourself:

Prayer really isn't so difficult. A simple conversation with God is the easiest thing in the world. God is not trying to trick us or trip us up. He loves us too much and honors the dignity He gave us too much to make building a relationship with him something akin to figuring out the geometry, physics, and mathematics of a house built by Frank Lloyd Wright.

Prayer is simplicity itself. What is difficult is letting go of ourselves and our own wills enough to let God decide what and when...or maybe never. We have to let go of pride and realize that we can't manipulate Him. We HAVE to become like little children, the children that we are, if we are to truly pray.

A toddler can pray just fine, and pray very effectively, for when they do so, they pray in innocent sincerity - completely unlike most adults!

The biggest comfort to me, believe it or not, is not when adults tell me they are praying for me, but when they tell me their 3-year-old child is praying for me!  I'll take the prayers of a toddler over that of the Holy Father himself ANY day! (No offense to our dear Pope Benedict XVI, whom I dearly love and believe to be a very holy man!)  

Prayer is difficult because we make it so, and of course, because at some point God has to wean us from the bottle of consolations He delights to pour out to encourage we children in the faith. At some point, though, we have to grow up and learn the sacrifices demanded by divine charity; difficulty and obstacles to prayer.

It is a greater sacrifice, of much greater merit, to pray when it is difficult, for in that sacrifice, we complete the task in spite of the fact we don't "feel" like it. When we go to Mass even if we don't "feel like it" or when we say we don't "get anything out of it anymore" but still go because we love God, that is an act of far greater love and holiness than going when it feels good to do so.

Why is prayer difficult?  Because through prayer, God is sanctifying us, is calling us to greater trials, conforming us to Himself, calling us to the Cross...all so that we might become Holy and spend eternity with Him. 

Thank you, Jesus. It really hurts to say it, and I don't know what's coming but....Thy will be done.

Amen.

**     **    ***

Thanks for your question, Faith (and by the way, I love your name!). You made me ponder and pray a lot over this one - sorry it turned into a book in and of itself!

How to Listen to God

As Providence would have it, this morning I received a wonderful question from Jose, who happened upon an old post/article,  Centering Prayer vs Contemplative Prayer.  Because his question is pertinent and of course, a common one, I felt it deserved its own post.

Jose asks:

I have been trying to "learn to pray" of late and find myself often confused between Catholic Meditation and the mix of Chistian-Eastern practices. I do have one question. The Saints and others say that one must LISTEN for God when one prays. I also recall the story of the Old Testement prophet who heard thunder, and earthquakes but didn't find God. He DID find God in a whisper. And, one must clearly listen for God to hear him in something as subtle as a whisper. So...What's the difference between emptying ones mind and listening for God? I feel as if I can't really listen to ANYONE if my mind is elsewhere and busy. If you were in a conversation and your mind is filled, your friend would accuse you of not really paying attention. Can someone explain the difference between the emtying of the mind and listening for God? I feel as if one can't listen without a quiet mind. It's truly confusing. God Bless and thank you!

Jose, you bring up several points, and I'll try to address them all.

It's not surprising that you're confused by the mix of "Christian-Eastern practices" because in reality, the non-Christian Eastern religions have practices of prayer that are diametrically opposed to Christian prayer.

It's first important to understand what those differences are and WHY they are, and that may help sort out your confusion. In a nutshell, Eastern non-Christians aren't praying relationally but for a very general way; the object of their prayer is impersonal, and their goals in prayer have a far different object.

In Christianity, we pray to a Person: God. We recognize the Holy Trinity, God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit. We believe that we are Temples of the Holy Spirit; God Himself is within us, and it is the Holy Spirit who initiates our prayer, who teaches us to pray, who inspires the desires of our hearts and helps us to cooperate with God in union with His will.

By definition, prayer is a conversation with God, and any conversation has a certain amount of give and take. When you pray, recognize that you are looking for an encounter with a Person, a real Person. God is not an impersonal, uncaring deity, but He is your Father who called you into being to be loved by Him. Prayer is your response to that love and is in and of itself an act of love for God.

Think of it this way:  when you want to get to know someone, you sit down and you have a conversation with that person. You speak, but hopefully, and more importantly, you listen. Listening is an action; your mind is engaged as it must be in order to formulate a response, to process what is being said to you and perhaps to take action. When you converse with people you know, do either of you sit and stare blankly at the person speaking?

Prayer is no different than that.

Yes, you do have to eliminate useless distractions, but keep in mind that not all distractions are useless!  For example, if you're praying the rosary and trying to meditate on the mysteries of Our Lord, and a certain person keeps popping into your mind, could it be that God is speaking to you and asking you to pray for that person? Or perhaps there is a problem with your relationship with that person - maybe you have not become reconciled to someone, or you're holding a grudge, you need to be forgiven something or maybe more importantly, you need to forgive that other....or yourself. Those things can actively block your prayer to God - and yet, in a way they've just facilitated something wonderful: the gift of self-knowledge.  Our distractions in prayer are often God's way of telling us what we need to bring to Confession!

Now, if you're just sitting there wondering about what to make for dinner that evening, or what to put on the shopping list for your kids, or whether you should shovel the walk when you get home or perhaps in the morning...those are useless distractions. That may require a bit of self-discipline, nothing more. Knowing that you're, say, in the Adoration Chapel to spend time with the Person of Christ and continuing to focus on that fact will probably go a long ways towards eliminating the garbage but still allowing your mind to continue to operate.

Christian prayer is a beautiful thing, for it engages the entire person, body, mind and soul. Our postures, our thoughts, our entire being can be absorbed in prayer; they shouldn't be suppressed. We NEED to engage our minds in order to listen to God, but we also need to know HOW He speaks to us.

It is different for each person and you may need to try different things if you're not sure how He speaks to you.  He may speak through your distractions, or, if you pray the Bible (Lectio Divina), God will speak through His Word, the Holy Scriptures. What stands out to you in a certain passage? Stop and simply ponder that. Read the gospels - what details stand out? God is speaking! Stop and allow him to reach through to you!

One big mistake people make in prayer is that they bring a whole stack of intentions and devotions, they run through their "routine" and then rush out the door. At no time do they ever give God the chance to answer. Silence, therefore, is important. That doesn't mean devotions are bad or bringing prayer intentions is a terrible thing; quite contrary, they are wonderful things, and God wants to hear those! Balance is needed, though - allow Him to respond. He may not do so immediately. Simply wait. Enjoy His presence, and even if you are not praying in the chapel, know that the Holy Spirit is within you, that God is always with you and WANTS to respond to your prayer.

The other biggie - praying in the will of God. We don't know His will, and perhaps in our prayer we are asking for things that are OUR will, so we must always be willing to "die to ourselves" and pray the prayer of Christ in the Garden: "Thy Will Be Done."  Not mine. YOURS.   (And yes, that's often hard to pray with sincerity!)

Prayer is very simple; it doesn't require complicated techniques. Contemplation and Infused Prayer are gifts from God we cannot elicit through any technique, but without knowing Him, loving Him, and simply delighting in Him, we will never grow in prayer.  Keep it simple; begin with focusing on the fact you desire a relationship with God, and He will guide you more deeply in accordance with His will.

You may also find this wonderful post from Fr. Charles to be very helpful to you!

I hope this helped, Jose, and if you have any other questions, please let me know. I'd be happy to clarify any points.  God bless!


RECOMMENDED READING: 

* St. Francis de Sales  Introduction to the Devout Life
* Fr. Thomas Dubay  Prayer Primer

The Call of Christ: Set Apart for the Kingdom of God

THE CALL OF CHRIST: SET APART FOR THE KINGDOM OF GOD

(copyright May, 2009)

Throughout the Gospel of Luke, one can note the theme of "The Call" of Jesus Christ, which by revelation culminates, ultimately, in the Cross, leading to the Resurrection. Those who were called and united with Jesus in a special way continued the mission He began in the book of Acts, where it is developed even further. We can see how those who are called to dedicate themselves to the work of salvation in a particular way are called also to sacrifice, and even suffer in order to fulfill their mission. Many are called to follow Christ, but not in the same way. Some are called to give up everything, even unto their lives, while others are called to live a different kind of sacrifice exactly where they will remain, making the Lord known and loved through everyday actions. In looking at these interwoven themes, it appears that Luke’s gospel lays the foundation of this Call, and Acts reveals how this Call, ultimately began to be fulfilled and remains so today.

We will first consider those passages that seem to reveal a special call to someone who has been set aside in some way for the Kingdom of God, followed by a discussion of the call belonging to those to whom Christ is revealed; to follow Him and proclaim Him in every facet of life. It begins in the first chapter of Luke, where the first clear call of God is delivered by the Angel Gabriel, telling Mary that the Holy Spirit shall overshadow her and she shall bear the Son of God. (Lk 1:35) She gave her fiat, and upon learning from the angel of her cousin Elizabeth’s own pregnancy, she rose to join her, pondering deep within her heart her own mysterious role. We can see through these passages that God’s call is one of sacrifice, for Mary took leave of her own home in order to serve in a new capacity, not yet fully understanding what was to come. There, when she greets Elizabeth, we meet, leaping within her womb, the one God has designated to be the prophet of the Son of God. (Lk 1:76)

 Already a pattern is developing, for the Lord makes His intentions known to those whom He calls, and those responsible for making sure that Call is fulfilled. 

Obviously, there are those designated by God alone, to be set apart for service to Him in His plan of salvation. While some of this idea of a designated role is present in the Levitical priesthood, it is through the birth and dedication of John the Baptist, uttered by his father Zechariah in verse seventy-six (Luke 1:76) that we understand God has called him to a particular mission in life.

There seems to be evidence from the text of Luke itself that men and women even before the time of Christ were called to serve God alone in a special capacity. Luke 2:27-35 reveals how the Holy Spirit inspired Simeon, who was “righteous and devout, looking for the consolation of Israel”. He prophesies the purpose of the infant Jesus, and the linked Vocation of Mary, making a clear declaration that with this great gift nestled in her arms, she would be called to suffer as well. Luke 2:36 brings in the prophetess, Anna, a widow who did not depart from the temple, but fasted and prayed every day, dedicating her life to the Lord. She, too, was a witness to Simeon’s prophecy and recognized immediately the Call to proclaim Him to all those looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.

Luke 3: 23 tells us that Jesus began his active ministry when he was thirty years old. Even as He sat in the temple proclaiming the Good News, healing the sick, those hearing were divided, and some sought to kill Him. This brings us to recognition of the theme of suffering, for Christ Himself could not live out his purpose in the world without suffering. In Luke 4:42, Jesus declares His mission, to preach the Good News (gospel), for, as he says, “he was sent for this purpose”. This is a clear declaration of being sent, set apart and designated for a particular cause; and in this case, it was the Son of God living out first in a perfect example what He would ask his followers to do as well.

In Luke 5, Jesus calls Simon, James, and John, but before He calls them, He asks them to make an act of faith. Jesus sees them washing their nets and gets into one of the boats, asking to be put out a little from the land, where He sits down and begins to teach. When He is finished, He directs Simon to put out his nets for a catch. Simon protests that they’d had no success all night, but “at your word I will let down the nets.” It is here that Jesus is revealed in a catch that so fills the boats that they nearly sink. Jesus’ Call to Simon and his partners, James and John, is simple: “Do not be afraid; henceforth you will be catching men.” As the text tells us they left everything to follow Him. Jesus gave the fishermen an abundance but as we can see, the Lord and his work was worthy of the sacrifice of material possessions.

In Luke 6:13-16, Jesus, after a night of prayer, chose from all of his disciples, twelve to be set apart in a special way, to accompany Him in His mission as Apostles. This is not a denigration of those disciples who were not set apart in this way, for indeed, as disciples they had their own mission to Christ. Yet we see that because Christ called only twelve, there was significance in their role and relationship to Him.

In Luke 9, Jesus called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, then sent them out to preach. Here we begin to see more of the related theme of sacrifice and suffering. Jesus directly addresses the necessity of suffering for the Kingdom of God in Luke 9:22: “The Son of man must suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” Jesus immediately made this relevant to the role of the Apostles, that they might clearly understand the Call to which they were responding: “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake he will save it.” (Luke 9:23-24). Yet this call to suffer is not for the sake of suffering and sacrifice in and of themselves, but ultimately, for the Glory of God, for the Resurrection. To do as Christ wills, one must have nothing, but depend upon the will of God in all service, to follow Christ in an act of trust, and an act of faith. It is another way of casting out a net as they went on their mission “fishing for men.”

It is important to note another form of a call which arrives with the birth of Christ: the first to learn of His birth are the humble shepherds watching their flocks in the night. The angel appears to them to reveal the birth of the Savior, and they rise immediately to go to the side of Christ. After their visitation, they return to their regular lives, changed, praising and glorifying God. (Lk 1:8-20) It cannot be a mistake that the first to visit the side of Christ proleptically reveals the future birth of the Church from the side of Christ on the Cross; thus here we see a call belonging to all believers; those who come into contact with Christ always return and proclaim His Glory and make this a way of life even within any humble state.

In returning to Luke 6:13-16, we see that Jesus had disciples who were not part of the twelve set apart. What of these disciples? Were they not also called to follow Him? Luke 6:46-49 defines those who may call Him “Lord” as “Everyone who comes to me and hears my words and does them.” This points to those who may not be set apart, but clearly are called to follow Him, not just to listen, but to DO as He does. It seems that as the life of Christ progresses, from the very first moment, all who come into contact with Him realize that there is a change. A pattern is emerging, an unspoken call to all those who come into His presence must make a decision:  either to disregard Him OR to become His disciple, and of those, to give up everything in order to be free to give themselves fully to Him, even if it leads to the Cross!

These themes of a special Calling, related to sacrifice and suffering, continue in the book of Acts, for there, the foundation of the Call has been laid, and the work of Our Lord continues in the hands and voices of those He called to sacrifice for His people.

In Acts 1:24, the Apostles choose another to take the place of Judas, and in that process, they pray to know not whom they want to choose, but whom GOD has chosen to take the place in ministry and apostleship.

From the very beginning of this book, we can see immediately the theme of a revelation continuing; and that it is God who calls, God who chooses, and this choice is expressed through those to whom authority has been given. This is expressed again in Acts 6:3-6, as the Apostles choose from among the disciples “seven men of good repute, full of the Spirit and of wisdom” to be appointed to serve in a special capacity. They laid their hands on the seven in this act of ordination which clearly set these men apart from the others. The Navarre Bible Commentary on the Acts of the Apostles addresses this passage, stating, “A person can be elected or designated by the faithful; but power to carry out that ministry (which implies a calling from God) is something he must receive through ordination, which the Apostles confer.” (p.61) It is God Who gives the authority and the ability to live out the Call to which they have answered.

Stephen was one of these men ordained in Acts 6 as one of the seven priests, and as he spoke with the power of the Holy Spirit, we become witnesses to the other part of the Call of God; sacrifice. He preaches eloquently and as a result of speaking the Word of God, of preaching of the death and resurrection of Christ, he becomes the first martyr to follow in the bloody footsteps of Our Lord. The resulting persecution of Christians for their faith causes them to scatter, yet in their scattering they do not deny Christ, but continue to preach Him to all nations. Here, this dispersion and the resulting spread of Christianity reveals the link between those who are set apart to guide the faithful, and the actions of the faithful themselves, for they work together for the same end: to spread the Gospel to all nations.

Saul’s conversion, which we could say happened as a direct result of Stephen’s own prayer for him makes up a great portion of this theme; in Acts 9:4-6 Saul is knocked to the ground, blinded, and sent by God to Damascus where he is to be taken to Ananias. Ananias is hesitant, but the Lord explains, “Go, for he is a chosen instrument of mine, to carry my name before the Gentiles and kings and the sons of Israel; for I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” (Acts 9:15-16) In this passage, Saul is called, but in Acts 13:2-3, he and Barnabas are “set apart” and given the authority to preach, sent by the Holy Spirit on a mission from God. Yet we cannot ignore that once again, the theme of suffering for the sake of God’s kingdom was addressed from the very beginning. In Acts 26:16-18, Paul is speaking, reiterating how he received his Call from God to bear witness, and following passages reveal the necessity of suffering.

 Paul did not preach a barren bloodless gospel, nor did he or any of the Apostles live a barren cross without meaning.

In summary, we have traced the theme of God’s Call through Luke and Acts, what that meant, and see the clear indication of Authority granted by God and expressed through those whom He calls. It was a continuation, built through Luke, brought to fulfillment and example in the Cross of Christ, and, we see through Acts the full expression of the life of Christ in His ministers (the Holy Priesthood of Christ.)  We have considered even the role of women who have been Called and set apart to serve the Lord, dedicated specifically to the needs of the Church, and even this has roots in the Tradition of the women who had been dedicated to serve in the temple of Jerusalem.

 It is also important to address the other role of the disciples of Christ; those who were called to serve in their regular state of life, living the Gospel and spreading it within their own homes and cities, empowered through the instruction of those called to lead them and aid them in the sanctifying and fundamentally missionary life in Christ. The vast majority of Luke and Acts addresses this call, and it is one which must be followed; those who encounter Christ in any way are forced to make a decision, and it is the same one we must all answer:

 Will we follow Him, too, wherever He calls?

Author's Note:
The above is a paper (edited for blog use) which I wrote for my New Testament course on Luke-Acts, in which our professor told us to find a theme in our reading and follow it. At the time as I was in discernment, it was easy for me to pick out the early Church's concept of Vocation, and it seems that this week, being Vocations Awareness Week, is an appropriate time to post the article. I do not offer it as a professional publication, only an academic but scriptural exploration; one which could be expounded upon. It is my prayer that this exploration of the theme of Vocation in Luke-Acts is helpful to anyone who happens upon it.

How Do You Discern a Vocation?

This is National Vocations Awareness week, and perhaps a few of you are shocked that I haven't actually, until this point, mentioned it.

On Sunday, I heard a beautiful homily about God's call; what is required to hear Him, and how one must respond when His sweet voice speaks. For the last few days I've been pondering his words as well as my own experiences over the last several years in my discernment struggles. I've also considered some of the questions I've received via email from others out there who perhaps have had the same struggles, the same questions, similar experiences and feelings.

For that reason, I have decided to start a series, and perhaps let it be driven by demand. You, my faithful readers, or perhaps you who are just passing by..have you any questions about Vocational Discernment? (To define: recognizing to which state in life God may be calling you - marriage, priesthood, religious life, consecrated single, etc.).  If you already know your Call, can you recall any of the questions you pondered or asked that you'd like to see answered here?

For now, I will begin with a very basic question:

How does one discern a Vocation?

This is an important question. Some of you out there may be asking that very thing. Perhaps you have heard God's voice, or just have a little inkling that perhaps there's something missing in your life. The first thing, then, is to cultivate your relationship with Our Lord. He is waiting for you. He may be calling, or perhaps He, too, is biding His time...waiting for you. 

He is a perfect gentleman; He will not force His will upon you, but only waits for you to be open to the gentle invitation to sit at His feet, to spend time with Him in prayer, or simply...just in His presence. You see, Jesus delights in you, He loves it when you come to the chapel to spend time with Him in the Blessed Sacrament. He awaits your presence, He welcomes your questions and He is ready to speak as soon as you are ready to listen.

This is all discernment; it is necessary first to know God, to fall in love with Him over and over again, and this can only be done through developing, constantly, your relationship with Him.

Knowing God and allowing Him to love you are fundamental to anything else;  you cannot fully love what and whom you do not know. You cannot hear a Call unless you have somehow learned to listen, and you cannot know which steps to take and when to take them if you are not in a dialogue with the one who has placed an invitation in your soul.

This is true for all Vocations; many a married person has come to know God had called them to marriage through prayer, and I even have a friend who learned in Adoration WHOM she was called to marry. (And just this year they had their first child, a beautiful son!)

How does one discern? Spend time with God. Go to Mass frequently, receive the Sacraments of Holy Communion and Confession frequently, and never let a day pass where you do not take time to pray. This is the first step. Know God, love God...and learn to allow Him to love you.

And this...this is the foundation and somthing that must never stop, for relationship with God is something that will continue to grow and deepen throughout your life, regardless of your Vocation.

New Catholic News Site!

This evening I received an e-mail from Tito Edwards, who has started a new news aggregate which may interest a number of you.

His site, ThePulp.it, searches the web twice daily (once daily on weekends) for the "best orthodox punditry in the blogosphere" and posts it for your reading pleasure.

Go have a look!  From what I can see it's a great site and at a glance you'll see links to great commentary by names you recognize (and maybe a few you don't!)

Um....but come back here, too, ok?  I don't want to get lonely...

hello?

Total Desperation

Have you ever noticed that every time you are down in the dumps about something, you seem to run into someone else who has it much worse than you?

Yeah...that happens to me, too.

Yesterday I learned that my request for a financial forbearance on my graduate loans through Citi-Bank was denied, for a really stupid reason. I saw that I had one day to pay my December bill before it doubled, so I robbed Peter to pay Paul, hoping Peter will be more forgiving than I expect. But at least Paul is 1/2 satisfied for now.

And I was in a panic - my account still shows that I am behind, and this is not a good thing. I don't understand how the bank thinks I'm going to be able to pay when what I told them before is still true; I simply don't make enough money to pay this loan right now. I'm looking for another job, I'm praying for a miracle, I'm looking for a way to satisfy the debt. In the meantime, I've paying my undergrad loan, but it means I have to "float" bills and pay them just in time for my next check to be deposited into the account. It doesn't take a genius to realize these are dangerous practices that only lead to disaster - and another huge monthly bill makes things even more precarious.

Unfortunately, what I just described is how a LOT of people are living these days. Others have already had the catastrophe of a dropped ball in that juggling act and are losing their cars, their homes....everything.

A Harsh Reminder

As hard as it is to be in this position, not wanting to ask for help, for after all, I GOT myself into this mess, I should suffer the consequences, right? I didn't HAVE to go to grad school and I knew when I began that I'd be leaving my well-paying job and taking on another...although I did not realize it was one that would increase my debt load, not keep it on an even keel.  Such is life.

Because of these and other thoughts, I was in quite the panic yesterday to realize I am officially in default on a grad loan, in spite of my attempt to keep that from happening.

Well, God had a reminder for me, and it happened while I was driving en route to my brother's house to celebrate his birthday.

An electronic freeway sign announced that the road I needed to take had a blocked left lane due to an accident. OK, fine. I know south Minneapolis quite well so got off at the 46th street exit.  The area has changed since I lived there; now there is a huge bus station there and panhandlers have taken over the area.

Living in the 'burbs as I do, I don't often see panhandlers but at the occasional exit ramp or stoplight if I happen to be going out of my way for some reason.

Yesterday, though, as I approaches the top of the exit, I saw a man holding a cardboard sign; it was bent and frayed on the edges and he dropped it to his side as he crossed in front of me to approach a car in the right lane. I slowed to ensure both he and I that he was in no danger of being struck by me as he received some kind of token. He took it from the driver; I did not see if it was food or money, it didn't matter. He returned to the sidewalk, glancing around at approaching traffic, and again held up his sign.

His hands were dirty; he wore no gloves, and I finally got a glimpse of the sign: 

"TOTAL DESPERATION"  

I didn't make eye contact with him as I was trying to read his sign; when I saw that message and the condition of his hands as he stood in the shadow of the urban sound barriers in 10 degrees, I was stricken.

Glancing towards the seat next to me, I regretted my bag was in the back; I had a nutrition bar in there. It wasn't much, but it was all I could give him. I glanced at the light then suddenly turned to reach behind, knowing I *must* give him that nutrition bar, desperately reaching into the pockets of my bag, clutching, finding only things useful to me - my toothbrush, kleenex, other odds and ends...no nutrition bar. I tried the pocket at the other side, shoving my confused but curious dog out of the way, praying the light would not change.

I've never wanted to give someone something so much as I wanted to give that man this stupid nutrition bar.

I glanced ahead...the light had changed, traffic was coming...I had to go. There was nowhere to pause. There was nothing I could do but move on.

As I passed through south Minneapolis, I couldn't get that man out of my head and I did all I could do; I prayed for him. He didn't know I was trying to find him some food; for all I know he saw the action in my car and thought I was trying to avoid looking at him.

Far from it; I really SAW him in a way I haven't seen a homeless person in a very long time.

No Maybes

Some will read this and fall upon the old party line of cautions against handouts to panhandlers, personal safety, carjackings, etc etc etc.

Sure, there's merit in that, but I had no money to give him although if I did, I might well have given it yesterday. I had but a small thing, and perhaps some of you may recall something I witnessed one hot summer day...and I couldn't forget that image, either. That event is burned into my memory.

So it happened that yesterday, there was a direct collision of my own self-pity against the cold harsh reality of someone else's very real desperation.

There, but for the grace of God, go I.

And I still wasn't able to help.

All of us are that dependent upon God; we can do nothing in and of ourselves. Even when we do offer something to others, or desire to, we sometimes are prohibited from doing so.

Who knows? Maybe that man needed a prayer more than he needed food; don't we all?

So please, stop now and pray for him, whoever he is. And when you pass by those in our communities who stand on corners holding signs, at least see them. Pray for them. Offer even an encouraging word. Anything - the dignity of humanity demands it.

The Daily Show and Other News

It's been an interesting week, and I have to admit, life is always full of surprises - as well as reminders of our faults!

Yesterday was one of those packed adventures, and several things happened right in a row.

Good GREAT News!

Because I've written of it a few times, I'll share the news now: the friend who was diagnosed with what looked to be terminal brain tumors called me yesterday, almost sounding like himself. He'd been to his neurologist and learned that the tumors are shrinking and there is no evidence of cancer around his spine!  He's overjoyed, calling it a miracle, and thanks everyone for prayers - he knows those prayers have carried him through and continue to do so. I know he is resigned to God's will for him, but he's grateful that, at least for now, God has more work for him to do here on earth.

Merely Good News:

After that I received a few responses to emails and phone calls for a huge project at work, something beginning next week, and I'd begun to fear that it was going to be a total disaster. As it stands now, it looks like we'll have more than enough experts coming in to share their expertise for a small group of very enthusiastic children. Yay!

Surprising News:

And here's a real kicker, one that I admit stopped me in my tracks:  I had an email from Matt Polidoro, producer of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, who was inviting me to be interviewed for and participate in an upcoming show. I wasn't sure of the reason for this, but finally located an old post of mine. After reviewing it, I saw why he'd contacted me; it really did make me look like a female William Donohue. Although the information in the post is something with which I still agree, it was quite inflammatorily stated - most of it lacking charity. Granted, at the time that's how I was writing, but over the years my tone has greatly changed. Guess I grew up a bit.

So I pondered this and talked it over with friends, pondered some more, and this evening sent an email back to Mr. Polidoro explaining I'd really have nothing to offer him, thanked him for the invitation, but no, not interested. He sent me back a nice response. Done.

How ironic; when I was a child, I wanted to be an actress, I wanted a career on television, I wanted to be "famous". And here an opportunity comes to my very doorstep and what do I do? Say no. Life is funny, isn't it?

Of course, it's not that a single involvement in a popular cable television show would by any means bring me fame, but rather, I recognize how many people are "dying" for such an invitation and would probably be floored that I would turn it down. So, in the words of Eeyore, "Thanks for noticin' me"!  :-)
Y'all....it is a blessing to be Catholic!

Now...if I could just get over this writer's block....

January Blog Quote of the Day

It's been awhile since I've slightly altered famous quotes, and if you recall, by popular acclaim I suggested that perhaps I could make this bit of humor a regular feature. Too soon, I realized that just wasn't going to happen but every so often I come across a fun series of quotes. As I like to keep my readership happy, and as many of my regular readers are bloggers themselves, well, I hope these bits of self-deprecating but all-too-truthful humor bring a little brightness to you day.

Without further ado, here are some more clever commentaries about blogging thanks to (real) authors:

Bloggers are easy to get on with - if you like children

~ inspired by Michael Joseph (1897-1958)

I post blogs because it's a way of making statements I can disown, and I tweet because dialogue is the most respectable way of contradicting myself.

~ inspired by Tom Stoppard

A blogger is a lucky person who has found a way to discourse without being interrupted.

~ inspired by Charles Poore 

A blog is never finished, only abandoned.

~ inspired by Paul Valery 

Immature bloggers imitate; mature bloggers steal

~ inspired by T.S. Eliot

Finishing a blog post is just like you took a child out in the back yard and shot it. 

~  inspired by Truman Capote

Too many blogs finish too long after the end.

~ inspired by Igor Stravinsky 

Epiphany

For months now, I haven't been posting very often. Sometimes I struggle to come up with one post per week. It amazes me that I continue to have followers. Please forgive me, but at times I think I only have followers because my blog is like a train wreck- once you look you just can't look away!

I've been considering putting this blog out of its misery, but truly, it has been an outlet for me and I am reminded I'm not being paid for my work; it carries with it no regular obligation. You, dear readers, apparently continue to follow because on occasion, you find that I have something to say, something that resonates with your own spiritual life, lived experience, questions about theology...or something. For that, I thank you. When it comes down to it, whenever I consider sticking a fork in this mess, I realize ultimately that it isn't really about me. None of us live lives that are all about us; we are living for God, for His people. Or at least we're trying in our own fallen way.

Granted, I love to write, but it is often a laborious task.When I post, I want to do so by way of adding something to the blogosphere, something different, something, well, hopefully holy. (Oh, you know how often I fail at that...!)  So it is that when I stop to consider this labor, I am forced to realize that perhaps not only is this something that I occasionally love, but it is also a sacrifice. It is one of the ways I can offer to lay my life down for God, for others, even though the disconnect that is the internet means I will never see "the faces" of those who linger but do not comment. I will never truly know the impact, for good or evil, of my words, of my life - and that's as it should be. The former would tempt pride, the latter, despair.

So it is that I will continue this blog as before, although I do not know what direction it will take, or how often I will write. I don't know if the words will appear I'm squeezing blood out of a rock, or whether they will flow freely. I only know that I must continue, for even if I say nothing new, even if my words don't matter, I am a single Christian doing my best to follow my Savior, and often failures in holiness speak more clearly to the Glory and Mercy of God than do the greatest successes.

Thank you all, dear readers, for continuing to follow this little work of mine. Thank you for your support and prayers over the years, for walking with me through the light and shadows that encompass this earthly pilgrimage. Thank you, both original readers who have been there from the beginning (are any of you still there or have I chased you away?) and thank you to my newer followers. I value you all and keep you also in my prayers.

God bless you as we continue through the Christmas season and celebrate a new start in 2011! 

(and remember...Christmas doesn't end until the Baptism of Our Lord!)

Overheard in Adoro's World - Christmas Edition

I had a wonderful Christmas with my family - lots of fun, lots of laughs. As always, I was blown away by my brother's generosity and of course, friendship, especially as we re-hashed old times! (We didn't always get along....)  ;-)

However, one of the high points, I have to admit, was a simple comedic moment, one of those moments one grasps and savors, wishing it had been captured in all its context and bottled so as to be let out and enjoyed for years to come.

All weekend long, Mom was focused on cranberries and turkey - she was going to make cranberries and had forgotten to purchase them before she'd come to The Cities for Christmas.  As my brother and I had to run out on Thursday to pick up a few items, we put cranberries on the list.  Mom was insistent, for she was going to make cranberries to go with the Turkey soup my brother was going to make from (frozen) leftovers from Thanksgiving.

I was a bit confused as we were not having turkey for Christmas itself, but clearly Mom wanted cranberries, therefore she would have them!

We duly picked them up and assured Mom several times over the next few days that they were in the fridge, awaiting her ministrations in order to serve with the turkey she also apparently desired.

On Sunday evening, Mom suddenly recalled she had been going to make cranberries, and they HAD to be cooked or they would go bad. So it was that instead of getting ready for bed, she was in the kitchen, cooking.  She asked about the turkey and soup, wondering why he hadn't cooked it as originally planned. This became a very big topic as she had been going on about this leftover turkey all weekend yet, it had not emerged from the freezer.

My brother solicitously asked if he should get out the turkey for a late supper; he suggested that if she didn't want to wait for soup, he could heat it up for sandwiches to have with her cranberries.

A conversation ensued regarding the cranberries and turkey, Mom suddenly complaining about having to make the cranberries if we weren't having the turkey after all.

Brother:  "But Mom, I thought you wanted turkey and cranberries?"

Mom:  "No, I don't want turkey. I don't even like turkey!"

In the meantime, I was in the living room overhearing all of this, and at that bombshell of a revelation, nearly experienced wine shooting from my nose. Mom had no idea why my brother's girlfriend and I were laughing so hard.

My brother simply stepped out of the kitchen and approached, smiling, amused at our fits of giggles while Mom stood there, confused, proclaiming how much she hated turkey even though she was only making the cranberries to go with the turkey she so desperately hated.

Ah....family!

Merry Christmas!

Come, Lord Jesus!

The season of waiting, of anticipation, is nearly over.

I find it to be a bittersweet ending, though, because this year Advent has been a season of the anticipation and experience of death.

I wrote a few months ago about a friend who was diagnosed with terminal cancer. He is still with us but I know his family is planning his funeral and all of Advent I have known that one morning I might wake up to find he has gone on to the Lord.

This morning I woke up to just such news, but it wasn't him; another friend who has long been ill died last evening. I never met her in real life, but Lavona Rann became a friend via social networking, and prayers for her and her husband have also been present this Advent, especially in the last couple days, when we received word of her immanent death. 

Last week, as a result of the car wreck I described, I, too, have been pondering my own mortality, realizing anew that the Master can come at any hour, any time - are any of us ready to meet Him?

Of my two friends, the preparation is there, they had received the Sacraments and were looking toward eternity while in laboring at the end of their lives, the travail of all the years so proper in Advent, likely giving them a new understanding as well - only one far more real, far more concrete.

During Advent, the Church looks toward not only the celebration of the birth of Our Savior, but towards His second coming. The readings especially in early Advent are dark and violent, yet this is so proper, for death is violent by its nature. Death was not intended by God but was brought about by humanity through the violence of sin.

That original sin ruptured us and we continue to suffer that wound and the results of that wound. Christ was born and came to bleed for us to satisfy the blood that would not have been shed at all but for our own abuse of free will.

When we sin, we do violence to ourselves, to others, and to God.

So He came, softly at first, but his birth was still marked by violence of the world that did not want to receive Him and sought to kill Him such that it killed the Holy Innocents, the babies that were so representative of Him. Yet, look around: that hasn't changed.

We are called, in Advent, and yes, even in the Christmas season, to recall this violence, both that which was the Fall, and that which brings Redemption, to the degree that they day after Christmas we recognize the Feast of St. Stephen - the first Christian martyr.

Advent is about conversion. It is about recognizing who and what we are in the face of God, who created us out of love, for love, and wills only our good. It is about really opening our eyes and SEEING the mire we choose to live in in place of the holiness that will lead us to true happiness.

We are called to recognize that in order to truly follow Christ, to receive the Christ Child, we must do violence to ourselves by turning from sin, by severing SIN from our lives and casting ourselves upon the Child who came to ransom us and heal our relationship with God.

People don't like to hear about violence and death, and no doubt there are those who will criticize this post for being "fire and brimstone".

There is no better time of year, though, to hear about fire and brimstone, for sometimes we need that reminder to cause us to look towards the Light of Christ, to beg once again to see Him face to face, and fall in love to such a degree that turning from sin makes the agony of conversion into joy. When conversion is real it arises from love, not fear, and that is a gift from God to us - but He cannot give us this gift if we do not turn to him with open arms. If we refuse to look at Him, we cannot receive Him - and this is the greatest violence of all.

Today is Christmas Eve; still a day of Advent, and today, we are at the end of our travail. Our Lord comes; Jesus comes to us. The churches will be overflowing at Mass, with both those who have prepared and those who have not. There are those who will attend with great joy and enter into the Mystery of the Incarnation, and there are those who will attend as though Mass is something "to get through and over with" before the real festivities will begin.

Let us not approach the celebration of the Birth of Christ in this manner, but rather, when we approach the altar, let us lay our own lives down as a gift to Him, in thanksgiving and love for the gift of Himself to us.

There is no better way to celebrate the Nativity.

Come, Lord Jesus, and do not delay!

Fire PSA and Warning

It's no secret that we here in the Midwest got a whole boatload of snow, everywhere, containing and followed by a whole lot of wind that created a bunch of really interesting drifts.

For the most part, the snow has been moved out of the way by the City or County or State (depending on where you live) but the government is not responsible for your own personal property.

I can't even COUNT the number of houses I have passed on residential streets in my last two weeks of travel about the Twin Cities in Minnesota, that have front doors blocked by those original drifts.

Look, Homeowners, I know what you're thinking:

You only shoveled your garage door or your ailing/elderly/young single mother's driveway because it's all you/they use and is critical to you/them.  I'm the same way...most of my coming and going is through my garage door, or, well, if I had a house with an unattached garage, I'd be using the door off the driveway.

Very few people actually USE their front doors, and as such, that door in a single family home is usually very neglected.

You're risking your life and the lives of your entire family to ignore that door.

Imagine This:

One night you wake up to the sound of your intact smoke alarms, and slowly, you realize the acrid scent being registered in your nostrils, tastebuds, and throat belongs to an actual fire in your castle.

You realize that the fire is coming from a burner left on in the kitchen, and while you don't recall leaving that burner on, nor does your husband/wife or children, there it was, and it has alighted some oil that was not cleaned off the stove, and that heat caught a picture on fire - one your daughter gave you tonight which you planned to hang on the refrigerator in the morning.

Instead, that picture acted as a wick and transferred the rapid oxidation to the curtains over the sink, which set the boxes intended for the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal alight...and their contents...and spread to the other curtains on the other kitchen window, the door, and the rug you purchased in Africa on your honeymoon.

That same fire sends a spark and alights your Christmas tree, blocking your exit through the garage door and/or side door while it sets the other continuous decorations alight.

Your only way out is the front door, and you go about waking and herding your family towards the front door - the only exit.

Yet when you get there, you are faced with a mountain of snow you never bothered to shovel, even though that storm was 2 weeks ago almost to the day, and it's completely blocking the door. You can toss your newborn out through the crack, but is that a GOOD idea when he sinks through the snow and then the heat from the house causes the tip of the drift to collapse upon him, covering him in an avalanche?

In the meantime...

The Fire Department arrives and approaches your house, watching as they hook up the Engine to the closest hydrant, which they have to take several minutes to locate and then dig out since neither you nor your neighbors did so.

It takes them awhile to do this, even as they try to lay a tank line to the most accessible door, including the consideration of the most likely place for survivors.  They look at the side door and lay a line there, but realize that if they open that door, they might actually directly cause the deaths of anyone inside, and of course, can't actually ENTER there....so they look to the front door...which is covered by snow.

They can't hear the cries of the baby you tossed beneath the roar of the consuming fire. They don't know he's there no matter how loudly you scream because they can't hear you either, between the fire, the engines, their turnout gear and the sound of air from their tanks.

Realizing they have no entrance from the plowed area, they try to access the blocked front door,  and the windows...but they can't get there through the drifts and the powerful hose really just turns snow into powerful waves of ice in your front lawn, forming bars against your house while you kneel on the floor, pounding against what you thought was an exit, sinking further and further, trying to protect your children from the encroaching smoke and heat.

You gasp your last breaths as you watch the pulsating blue and red lights glow through the drift you didn't bother to shovel, and that's where you realize your children are now too late to save.

Across the Street

Mr. Neighbor a la Snowblower stands, in shock, watching the Fire Department try to access your home. He's the one who happened to be awake and called at 1:00 am, and he's the same guy you spoke with regarding the snowdrift blocking your front door. He has one to match, because neither of you thought it important since neither of you has EVER used the front door of your home but for an occasional formal event.

Yet Mr. Neighbor stands there, horrified, witnessing this sin of omission as the Fire Department labors through your front lawn to get to a door, a window, and the newborn encapsulated in a drift that should never have been present.

He watches the Fire Department labor through the stuff he could have eliminated, and watches you and your dead family being brought on stretchers through the snow, just as the light comes into the sky, and gives his testimony to the police and to the NEWS...all for want of a little flat tool that would have prevented that mass-family funeral he will attend  a couple days after Christmas.

And none of your family or friends will remember Christmas the same way again, for instead of the birth of Christ, they will remember the drift of snow over the doorway to life and they will forever recall your absence...your stupid, stupid absence.

SHOVEL OUT YOUR FRONT DOORS, PEOPLE! 

Salvation by Catastrophe

One morning this week when I threw my bag into the passenger seat and made sure my cell phone was turned on, I did not know that only 20 minutes later I'd be standing at the side of the freeway, my legs coated in salt-infused snow, staring down at the remains of a very violent wreck, wondering about the condition of the occupants.

It started as a normal morning, and the drive was uneventful, until something made me take note of a car rapidly accelerating behind me. (Now...when I say "rapidly", I mean: like a bat out of Hell!)  There was an SUV behind me in the left lane, slowly creeping forward in a slow, steady pace, and I looked back again at the car behind both of us, it dawning on me in horror that the car wasn't slowing, wasn't braking...and apparently intended to pass me on the left in front of that SUV!!!

There wasn't enough real estate for passing!

 I slowed and pulled to the right, still highway speed, onto the shoulder of the freeway just as the car DOVE between us, dodging from the right lane into the left, the SUV's lane, for the pass that ended catastrophically as the car collided loudly with the SUV's front end approximately at the point of my own left front fender (the front side panel of my car).  The SUV went off into the ditch in an  immediate explosion of white, the offending car went into a spin next to/in front of me and began to roll, giving me an intimate view of its underside anatomy while I braked hard and began to dodge left as the physics of the violent collision sent the car off to the right, rolling into the steep snow-laden ditch.

It was surreal as I passed, slow-motion in my memory, between the dual-whiteout-explosions on either side of me, narrowly missing all of the actions of the car that had caused this disaster. 

In shock, I could see from my peripheral the SUV stopping, straight in the deep snow against the thin guardrail to my left as I could also see from my other peripheral the ongoing motion of the car, still flipping, evidenced by the spout of snow announcing, dramatically, the motion of the car and where it was headed, where it had been, where it was going.

Stunned, horrified, concerned, I carefully, not knowing what was going on behind me, stopped and pulled over to the side of the freeway, reaching for my phone, and called 911.

"911 What is your emergency?"

"I need to report an accident on hwy xxx, 2 vehicles involved, one rolled several times. Westbound on xxx....we are......*deep breath* (trying to clear my head)...um....ah...facing...x street....I'm sorry...I suddently don't know where I am...!"  (pause)

Dispatcher (pause) "What exit did you just pass?"

Me: (still pondering, looking forward at an unhelpful railroad trestle, looking for a mile marker.....WHERE ARE WE?????.....  "OK...we're past yyy ...we're approaching xxx...we're between those....there's T landmark to our north."

He explained he needed to transfer me to the State Patrol, and I waited, and about every 20 seconds he came on to ask me to hold, he was transferring me, I assured him I was still there, and in the meantime, I grabbed my purse, watched traffic,. and carefully got out of my car, phone pressed to my ear, waiting for the transfer. I jogged back towards the scene of the accident, hoping to get info on any injuries or trapped victims to pass on to the dispatcher.

Finally I heard the transfer, and the State Patrol dispatcher tried to verify our direction (for side of the freeway) several times....I answered the opposite each time, but didn't realize it until after I'd hung up.

As I conversed with the dispatcher, one hand pressing the phone to my ear, the other holding my finger to the other, I recalled freeway traffic stops, both sides, both as the Officer and of the Motorist, and I realized how stupid I was to leave my car without completing this call.  Granted I had left to try to get additional information from the people on scene, but that didn't matter if neither of us could hear. I berated myself for my stupidity and for forgetting my professionalism, no matter how many years it has been.

"Who's in Charge?  'I am'" 

When I was growing up and interested in EMS, an EMT I knew, upon my completion of Lifeguard training, told me that what I knew put me far and ahead of most people. He told me that if I ever came  upon an accident, I knew the basics and that put me in charge. He told me to enter a scene, ask, "Who's in charge?" and if no one had any training, take charge and say, "I am" and then start assigning roles.

I remember being terrified. He saw that expression and reminded me of what I knew how to do: stabilize the head and neck, stop bleeding, and of course, direct people as to HOW to do those things.

As I jogged that very short space between where I'd stopped (and backed) along the shoulder to the accident scene, I remembered those words, but now, years later, having been trained as an EMT, a cop, a firefighter, but now knowing I was there only as a citizen, having forgotten more than she had ever really learned.

I didn't know what I would find; that was a violent wreck! 

Were people dead? Injured? How many? How bad? How to get there in the deep, deep snow?  I wished mightily I had my Ski Patrol/EMT first aid pack in my trunk, but I had nothing...not even medical gloves. I had only the vestiges of my training.

A few cars had stopped, probably those who had been in the immediate vicinity of the accident. One person had stopped on the other side of the highway to check on the other driver and was standing there, waiting as we all were, for help.  Some people were deep in the ditch, surrounding the car, assisting and....this will make your hair go up...they were taking children out of the car!

CHILDREN!  

I think there were 2-3, all little ones.One was being held as an infant.

At that sight, I tried to go down into the ditch, worried they were moving people who shouldn't be moved. I am a short individual and as I stepped into previously-made footprints, I still sank into the dirty, salty, sandy snow, deeper and deeper with every step. I glanced up at traffic, realizing I was a sitting duck should another vehicle go off the road...I couldn't move. Each step encased me more and more.  I returned to the surface, realizing I couldn't get there, and if I did, I'd be in the way...those at the car reported they were OK...which was amazing.  By the evidence from the scene, the car hadn't just rolled side overtop, but from end to end - it had FLOWN over a chain link fence and landed UPRIGHT!  

One of the other witnesses on the shoulder yelled to the guys who were down below if they had been in the car, but no, they weren't. One shouted back that they lived nearby and had seen it, were able to get to it and help. He  reported that everyone seemed OK and somehow, carefully, they got the little ones up out of the ditch and into a warm witness's vehicle where they could be comforted and gotten out of the cold while we all waited for the State Patrol.  (Most of that had happened when I was still in my car on the line with 911/State Patrol Dispatch)  

We who stood on the shoulder mostly waited, watching, mostly helpless, for the State Patrol. We waited for the salvation of authority who would take control of this chaos and bring this family in the midst of this disaster into warmth and of course, to justice. One person was reliving her own past trauma, a direct witness to this particular accident, remaining to give testimony not just to this but to her own serious accident that had taken place in the past. Others were there to help with the aftermath and found themselves the guardians of the innocent children while, down below, those who had come from seemingly nowhere still labored to aid the mother, the driver, to gather items and slowly make her way through the hip-deep snow, uphill, to meet judgment.

The sound of sirens was music to our ears. I watched the coming of the State Patrol and I rejoiced, for finally, here was authoritative assistance...here was someone with a link and directive to all that was needed. 

The Trooper assessed the scene and asked who were witnesses versus who was there to help after making sure that no one was in obvious immediate attention.  I and another identified ourselves as witnesses as another couple in an SUV identified themselves as people who had just stopped to help. They gave their names and numbers so they could leave, and went to their vehicle for the children.

The Trooper asked me for my driver's license, which I handed him & verified my address & number. As I began to give my testimony as to the events of the accident, one of the children exited the SUV of the couple who had kept him warm inside.Neither of us spoke as the little guy limped past, staring straight ahead, walking the shoulder, limping, moving stiffly, wearing only one boot.  The Officer spoke to him but he did not answer. I judged his age to be about 4, but he passed us as though we were ghosts, went to the squad car, and the Trooper followed, watching as the little man approached the Squad.

He asked the little guy, "Are you going to go sit in my car?"

No answer. As the little one reached for the door handle the Officer told him to go ahead and sit in his car and stay warm.  So he did, but still did not speak or react.

The Trooper came back to where I stood, and then the other child left the warm SUV to make the same staggering trek to the Squad car, wearing the same stricken expression, and I don't think he had anything on his feet at all.   I think he, like his brother, had lost his boots in the crash or on the way up through the ditch.

I wanted to say something, wasn't sure I could or should. I watched the expression of the Trooper, knowing he saw what I did, but had seen much, much more..this guy was no rookie. I wondered if an ambulance had already been dispatched.

We saw both children into the warmth of the squad car, and then the driver, the mother (ostensibly) emerged from the chaos, clearly shocked, clearly stricken.

I wanted to grab her about the throat and ask her what she'd been thinking, but realized the accident had already done that, so instead I asked her if she was OK. She was moving slowly, her eyes wide, and she seemed disoriented. She nodded that she was OK, carefully looked around and asked about others. I told her it appeared all were fine. I don't know why I didn't yell at her to get her kids to the hospital. I think it was maybe because she was clearly incapable of any decision-making at the time and really, needed someone to get her there as well.  I knew I had to entrust her to the State Trooper in charge of that scene...her and her children.

He showed her to the car and her children, then came back to get my statement, which I gave, now having seen the face and the children of the woman who caused this entire mess.

I spoke, I stated what had happened, truthfully, for seeing the faces of the stricken did not change the cause and did not eradicate the fault, or deny the necessity of justice.

Nor did the statement of Truth deny the necessity of Divine Charity.

I can't stop thinking of them:  my biggest concern is for the children in that accident; let's just say a four-year-old doesn't have a thousand-yard-stare unless he or she is in need of serious medical attention.

I was amazed that none of them seemed to have a mark on them. Were it not for the 17 inches of snow we got last weekend, this might well have been a fatality.  How ironic that although snow and ice were not a factor in causing this accident, it was a factor that ensured this family's survival.

But I keep going back to the children, their stricken expressions, their silence as they walked between the warm witness's vehicle to the squad car, one without a boot, the other in two stocking feet. They suffered in stricken silence the sins of their mother and yet they walked, purposefully towards Salvation, having been brought there by others who worked for that Savior, all for a common purpose, a common objective, in recognition of a common benevolent authority who sent an emissary.....

I felt so helpless as I witnessed all of this, until I recognized that I was a part of  it.  In a Flannery O'Connor-type of allegory, we were living out the story of salvation on a Minnesota highway, from Genesis through the Passion.

Those of you who know both Flannery and the story of Salvation will understand...those of you who don't.....won't.

"I wasn't there so I can't say He didn't" The Misfit said, "I wisht I had of been there, " he said, hitting the ground with his fist. "It ain't right. I wasn't there because if I had of been there I would have known. Listen lady, " he said in a high voice, "if I had of been there I would of known and I wouldn't be like I am now."  His voice seemed about to  crack and the grandmother's head cleared for an instant. She saw the man's face twisted close to her own as if he were going to cry and she murmured, "Why you're on of my babies. You're one of my own children!" She reached out and touched him on the shoulder. The Misfit sprang back as if a snake had bitten him and shot her three times through the chest. Then he put his gun down on the ground and took his glasses and began to clean them. 

~ Flannery O'Connor, A Good Man is Hard to Find

The Christian Scandal

Christianity is scandalous.

God, the Almighty, the Great I AM, condescended to be conceived in the womb of a simple virgin, to be carried there for nine months and then...and then....was born immediately into filth, destitution, and a state of utter humiliation.

He was born of a pure woman for He had called her into being and through a singular grace, had removed the stain of original sin in order to reveal Himself to the world, even though He knew the world would be utterly scandalized by the grace shown to Mary, the Mother of God, and the rest of us who were not preserved by such a grace. He knew we would be forever scandalized by His perfection in a world more willing to choose sin over holiness. He knew we would be scandalized by His own followers who would continually try and fail, or perhaps not try at all even though clinging to His Name.

He knew He would be utterly rejected, utterly defiled, utterly destroyed in His body...and in so being would utterly decimate sin in order to restore humanity in His own act of satisfaction for sin.

Jesus, Son of God, Incarnate at His conception within the womb of Mary, gives testimony to the Glory of God, His plan of salvation, and the beauty and perfection of the life we are called to live...for eternity.

That is scandalous. 

Utterly, completely scandalous.

As we weep here below in this vale of tears, turning our passions to pleasure, and reaping only the consequences and remorse of sin, we are scandalized by the example of Christ who was born to give dignity to our flesh, to heal what we willfully severed, and to render justice by paying the ransom we cannot pay even if we truly cared to do so.

Advent is such a time to consider the scandal that is the coming of Christ, the scandal brought to the forefront of our culture for MONTHS every year. Even as we who love the liturgical seasons scream and cry at hearing Christmas rejoicing before Halloween, perhaps we have to admit that actually, Christ still reigns because one cannot help but think of Him somehow.

Even as we Catholic pray for Holy Souls and recognize the Saints who have become like Christ, the music that celebrates His birth plays in the background in our secular world.  Is that not a sign of hope? The world desires it for merely material means, but really, is that any different than when Christ walked the earth? After all, they tried to make Him an earthly King, a political figure, an economic figure.

The Poverty of Christ

Jesus was born into nothingness, unknown to those around him outside of His Mother Mary and St. Joseph, husband of Mary, earthly father to Jesus, our Lord and Savior. They were humble people of little means and could find no room in Bethlehem, anywhere, even for the Son of God. No matter that Mary, swollen with the life about to burst forth from her in a ray of light for the world, could barely walk so close was her Hour; there was no place for her and her child.

There was no room. Bethlehem, "House of Bread", relegated the Holy Family to the crust.

Ponder that:  Jesus was born into a world that would not make room for Him.

Is it such a surprise that nothing has changed?

The Scandal of Advent

We Catholics are called away in Advent, to be quiet, to pray, to spiritually prepare our souls to receive the Christ Child.

We are called to make room for Him in our lives, if we have not already, and if we have, to make MORE room for him. The odds are most of us think of Him only on Sundays when we have to go to Mass, or take our kids to religious education, or maybe to put a creche out as a reminder that this is what Christmas is all about.

At the same time, we are in the middle of  all the insanity as life becomes more and more hectic, with the demands of social engagements, and the traditional demands of preparing for the Feast, for family, Christmas Pageants, end-of-semester final exams...the list goes on. We are called to withdraw from the world just as the world, including the Catholic world, ramps up demands upon us.

This is scandalous, and quite appropriate, for in all of this, we are better able to experience the journey Mary made as she traveled from Nazareth to Bethlehem, passing beneath the shadow of the Cross in order to truly enter into it and make it her own.

Holy Paradox

This paradox of our Christian life against the opposing forces of secular life is the scandal of the Cradle and the Cross, and the wood is exactly the same. It calls for sacrifice, for suffering, for longing for the peace that can only come through Christ, our Savior, the Light of the World.

It is no wonder that Advent is such a tumultuous time; it is meant to be so, for only through passing through and embracing this valley can we ever break into the light and fall at the feet of Our Lord.

We long, in Advent, for peace and quiet, for the end of the demands upon us, for the crowds to leave us alone. We long for the solitude of our homes and families, for simple comforts, even when we are surrounded by lavish soirees and temptations of materialism.

In the end, our souls crave the very poverty of Christ, not understanding that we are already experiencing that poverty for our world is not wealthy; it is poor.

We are poor not always for lack of money, but for lack of holiness. Those who are the most destitute are those who have no desire for holiness. And those with the greatest poverty are those who don't even know they should desire holiness!

This world, this very economically wealthy world, is actually very poor because it does not have Christ, does not want Him, does not realize it needs Him.

We, personally, are poor because we do not have Christ...and we have not yet made room for Him.

Before the celebration of His Birth, we must take time to make room, even amidst the chaos. We must find that place in our souls where He rests, and if that space is taken up by sin , we must eradicate it.

That is scandalous.

Advent calls us to change, to look towards our ends, not just our present. For what were we created? For WHOM? Why? Have you ever wondered at the violence of the Advent readings, those that fortell the end of the world? Those readings that so harshly condemn sin and state clearly those who will not enter heaven?

It is to remind us of our Final Judgment, for as Christ came once, softly, through the womb of a virgin, then He will come with violence, and that violence will bear it all away.

Jesus came with violence in His humility, and first sons were slaughtered shortly after His birth.

The slaughter that accompanies His Second Coming may include us, and if the blade of His Just Judgment hits our own necks, we will be separated from Him for Eternity.

Advent is a call to eternity, a call to holiness, a call recognize the Kingship of Christ, to make room for Him, for if we do not do so now, will we ever?

We must live each day of Advent as though He is being born through us at any moment. Have we given our own Fiat or have we turned away and told Him we have no room in our souls for His gift of eternal life?

Christianity is only scandalous because it calls us out of ourselves, out of the darkness and into the eternal light and life of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

It is scandalous to the world because we the faithful so often try but fall, again and again.

It is scandalous because God's Mercy has more depth than the deepest ocean and more light than the brightest sun. We cannot escape His Mercy, but we can reject it and in so doing, purchase eternal damnation.

And that is scandalous, that He would allow us to reject such Life in favor of eternal corruption.

And yet He does......

Choose.

Whirling Dervish

It's not news anymore as every blogger and his brother is writing about it, but we here in the upper mid-west,  depending on where we are, are either experiencing a Winter Storm or a Blizzard. We in "The Cities", as we fondly call the Mpls.-St. Paul area, don't have anything as dramatic as a "blizzard". We are instead being blessed with a "Winter Storm".

In proper meteorological parlance, a "Blizzard" is classified by wind speeds of something like 30 or 35 mph for at least 3 hours.  We here in The Cities,  have most definitely NOT experienced those wind speeds, although we have been experiencing very heavy snowfall, high winds (just not blizzard-high), blowing,drifting, and outright miserable road conditions. In other words...we are experiencing a mere Winter Storm. A big Winter Storm, but nothing with the quality of a Blizzard.

Now, don't get all down on people who call it a Blizzard! We Minnesotans like melodrama, which is evidenced by Fish-Stories on the Fishing Opener (yes, really), and Blizzard Tales at any point during a winter snowstorm! (And some of both are actually TRUE! Remind me to tell you of the time I nearly caught a Grandaddy Northern that nearly snapped my pole in half...)

Anywho...no matter what the term that applies, whether country or city, this whirling dervish is doing a number on all of us here in Minnesota and Wisconsin; therefore we do what all experienced upper-Midwestern people do in the winter:  we batten down the hatches and reserve our errands, if we must go out, to local endeavors. That is, if we can get out of our driveways and actually see where we're going!

Venturing into the Whirling Dervish

This morning I did have to run out and decided to do so sooner rather than later. We already had about 5 - 6 inches on the ground by the time I backed out of my garage, and I nearly got stuck where my driveway meets the city-owned Cul-de-Sac, which had clearly been sorta-plowed once, early on.

I considered turning back before I was even a block away; I couldn't see very well, there were random piles of snow created by plow wars between the City and various home-owners association contracts, and the idiots were out in force, fishtailing and driving crazy without actually looking to see if anyone else would be taken out by their stupid antics.

But I digress....

The main streets in my city were well plowed, every 2 cars was a squad car, and most people who had ventured out out were driving slowly and with consideration for other drivers.  I skipped one errand because I didn't think I could turn onto that road without plowing my entire front end into a plow-formed bank and getting stuck there until April.  The rest was fairly uneventful but for the near-whiteout conditions, saved by occasionally chopping ice off my wipers to make them work every now and then.

The REAL Story was this afternoon....

I was supposed to go to Adoration this afternoon and after my morning trek, was almost certain I'd make it.

Almost.

Like everyone else, I watched the conditions. If I had a 4-wheel-drive vehicle, it wouldn't have been in question. However, no, I don't. Prudence must come into play.

I called my hourly coordinator and learned one of the people on my same hour would almost certainly be there, barring sickness. So I waited, watchingthe weather, and when it got close to time to go, I walked down my driveway to assess the conditions. It was as if our own plows hadn't been through at all, and clearly the City had forgotten about our little street.

Sadly, I walked inside and called the gentleman to verify he would be there, and apologize to Jesus for being stuck at home.

I went back out thinking to check mail and further ponder...could I go? I knew that if the city plow came by while I was gone, I'd never be able to get back into my driveway. Then what?  (I'm sure my nice neighbors would help me shovel my car into the driveway).

There, where I'd been not 3 minutes prior, was a car about the size of mine, stuck in the muck of snow. A woman was behind, trying to push it out while the driver spun his tires constantly, actually working against the woman doing all the hard labor. I didn't know them, but asked if she wanted some help?

"Sure!" she responded, catching her breath.  (This is a very normal scene in MN. I've been pushed out by many a stranger, and they wave as I pull away, waving me also forward so as not to get stuck again! It's ingrained in our culture).

I joined her in back of the car and pushed, and the car began to move in spite of the driver's actions. After a couple minutes of not going anywhere or gaining momentum, the woman opened the rear door and told the driver how to hit the gas, not to constantly spin his wheels. I heard him yell angrily at her, and the only word I heard clearly was the f-bomb, at which she flinched, too. She started to respond, shrugged, and came to the back of the car and began to push again, so I joined her again.

Yeah, well, we got him out in spite of himself, I walked away and the woman thanked me. The driver...nuthin'.

But then again, in MN we don't do stuff out of courtesy; we do it because it's right. (Which is also why I didn't pop his tires in response to his obvious verbal abuse of his girlfriend..it wouldn't have been right.)

Anyway...there you have it.

I looked up just as we were getting the guy who didn't know how to drive out of his mess to see a City plow coming down the street. I tellya, these were the big guns, a huge tractor with 2 PLOWS!  The main one and a smaller more flexible extension. It was beautiful to behold, a true artform as he passed through and around our street, moving the snow out of  the way of we decent drivers!

I nearly applauded but by the time he was close enough to see my hands were full of mail and a package I'd ordered.

It was clear, though, that I'd been right to decide not to go to Adoration, as hard as that decision was; I would not have made it through the plow-slough.

God's Will, God's Designs

This weekend, I was originally supposed to go to Wisconsin, and with friends (and hopeful future religious community) attend Mass at the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in La Crosse, WI, offered by the now-Cardinal Burke. There were other very special reasons for this trip, and it was with a heavy heart that, yesterday, in the face of the developing storm, I decided to stay home.

Today I'm grateful for that decision, but sad that God denied me not just that grace, but also the regular grace of Adoration from me.  I still prayed at home, and took the time to work on my Icon of Our Lady of Perpetual Help. It wasn't lost time it was just...time differently allocated for God.

Although my attitude didn't start out this way, I now I thank God for this storm, for it was part of His plan for us all, and in all it's terrible fury, there is beauty, there is order and therefore there is evidence of God's love, mercy and benevolence.

Daniel 3:52-75

"Blessed are you, O Lord, the God of our fathers, praiseworthy and exalted above all forever; And blessed is your holy and glorious name, praiseworthy and exalted above all for all ages.

Blessed are you in the temple of your holy glory, praiseworthy and glorious above all forever.

Blessed are you on the throne of your kingdom, praiseworthy and exalted above all forever.

Blessed are you who look into the depths from your throne upon the cherubim, praiseworthy and exalted above all forever.

Blessed are you in the firmament of heaven, praiseworthy and glorious forever.

Bless the Lord, all you works of the Lord, praise and exalt him above all forever.

Angels of the Lord, bless the Lord, praise and exalt him above all forever.

You heavens, bless the Lord, praise and exalt him above all forever.

All you waters above the heavens, bless the Lord, praise and exalt him above all forever.

All you hosts of the Lord, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

Sun and moon, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

Stars of heaven, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

Every shower and dew, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

All you winds, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

Fire and heat, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

Cold and chill, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

Dew and rain, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

Frost and chill, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

Ice and snow, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

Nights and days, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

Light and darkness, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

Lightnings and clouds, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever.

Let the earth bless the Lord, praise and exalt him above all forever!