Turning Inward...

Tomorrow starts the Triduum, the holiest week of the Catholic Calendar.

With this comes extra time for meditation on the passion, extra time to just be with Jesus on this journey. Every year during holy week, I pick a book to focus on for the Easter season, a book for my daily meditation. This year I have chosen "Hinds Feet on High Places". I read this about 2 years ago, for formation in the convent. I have decided to re-visit this particular book, because, as I recall, there are several scenarios that would pertain to me at this point in my life.

This particular book is an allegorical look into the Song of Songs. It is also about taking a journey. A journey with friends (one of whom is named suffering), a journey through treachery and despair. The ending is what I most look forward to ;)
It will force me to turn inward, to really examine each step along the journey, to find that God does work all for good---no matter how I feel.

So my friends, the real start of HOLY WEEK is tomorrow, with the washing of the feet and Garden in Gethsemane.
I am looking forward to starting this journey with Jesus, to being by his side (once again) as he climbs to Calvary and  dies for the sake of us all.

One thing I am sure of , no matter how much pain I think I am in, none of it could ever amount to the suffering that the Beloved went through. I will be reminded of this.

Concussion, Anger, and Daggers to the Heart.

Over the past week I have been faced with some extremely unusual and even more unwanted circumstances.

It started off with a promotion at the coffee shop, which was welcomed news...I hesitantly accepted. Training is pretty straight forward, we shall see what happens as it progresses.

Later on in the week, I wound of getting a concussion. How you may ask? Something fell on my head, causing my brain already jumbled with anxiety, to be more on edge. I am feeling much better now, but still have some pain and a bump on my forehead. I am grateful that it didn't knock me out, or break my nose.

Then there was anger. I also found out, through a friend, that I had been blatantly lied by the convent. I won't go into any details here, as tactlessness is not needed. Needless to say, the anger phase--- which I thought I never reached, has peaked, perhaps even starting a new grieving process. I really can't even fathom how else to explain my feelings.

Except maybe to say that the wounds that were being healed, have now broken back open...AND that daggers have been flying towards my heart. I can't look at a habited sister without shuttering, I can't hear the word discernment without feeling despair, I can't sit in a church or adoration by myself, and I can't trust--- this my friends, is going to be the thing i will be working on the longest. I also can't help but try to push back tears.

Please pray that this all works for the good--- as I am having an extremely hard time seeing how any of this can ever be good.

God Bless Each of You.

Sometimes words won't do...

There are often times, where you can't put your thoughts or feelings into words.

My post today is just that, words won't do.

Below are some picture that sum up where I am.

Blessings.

Looking in the mirror...

The above picture is one of my favorite paintings by Norman Rockwell.
Years ago, when I took an art history class, I dissected this painting and its layers. The layer that I focused on the most was the fact that: what we want to see, is not always what we do see. In this painting you see a girl with a magazine open on her lap, of an obviously "photo-shopped" actress...now look at the girl in the mirror, look into her eyes---I mean REALLY look into her eyes.You see a brokenness and confusion, you also see a since of awe. The girl is not seeing who she wants to see, but she also is not sure who she should see.

This concept of  "looking in the mirror" can be applied to your soul life as well. Have you looked at yourself in the the mirror recently. I  don't mean to comb your hair, or fix your makeup. Take a few minutes today go in front of a mirror and look at yourself, don't focus on anything but your eyes. What do you see?
Eyes have been said to be the opening to ones soul, I must say that I believe this. Sometimes, you will love what you see and other times, like me, you will see a complete stranger.

I have gone through many soul transformations over the past 10 years, which have resulted in a different spiritual transformations each time. When I was about 21, I actually wrote a song about trying to understand. Here is an excerpt:

"I've been looking in the mirror at a picture of myself
But the Polaroid seems too fuzzy, like I'm seein' someone else
Can't feel this way anymore, gotta get away
Don't know what I'm waitin' for another time another day.

I could go on dreamin' dreamin' of what will be
but that won't get me no where
at least thats how it seems"

Little did I know, that I was right. I really had no idea of what my soul would eventually take on and I had no idea of how often I would look in the mirror and see someone I did not know.

I can't help but think that God finds himself chuckling at my reaction every time I  look at myself, sometimes, I even chuckle. I don't know who I am, yes that scares me BUT  I do know: I am a beautiful child of God and I am made in HIS image, so I guess---whoever it is I see in the mirror, can't be all that bad!

The next time you look in the mirror, stop for a second and try to see what God sees, you might be surprised.

Good Grief?

Grieving get's a bad rap. It is often thought of as something negative, something that we have to go through, something that happens after tragic circumstances, in other words--- something else to add to our plates. Grief  is not something we ever want to have to face.

I, myself, still fear facing grief. This is mostly because it means that I have to move on with life, continue existing without that person, or way of living. I, like many others, want to remain comfortable. I would rather not think about moving on, why can't my mom be alive, why couldn't my sister be "normal", or  my latest: why couldn't I still be in the convent. God is the ONLY one who knows the answers. He also knows, that we can't remain stagnant.

There are 5 primary stages to the grieving process,  it can take months, or even years to reach each stage. It is also very common to experience a stage more than once, and even .,possibly, skip a stage all together.

1) Denial--- Yes, we all go through this stage: "This isn't happening to me", "Tomorrow things will be just as they were". I think I live in denial. I highly dislike admitting that things happened, because admitting it makes it real. But denying does not change a single thing.

2)Anger--- I have been through several circles of anger regarding my circumstance. In fact, I am currently trying to redirect a newly formulated cycle. Anger in any shape or form is okay for short periods of time, but harboring anger, can be extremely detrimental to your health (not just mental but physical), trust me...I know.

3)Bargaining-- I never bargained. I never wanted to sell my soul to God just so I could have my happiness back, I suppose this is because I have an immense faith that God is behind this, and nothing I say or do would convince Him otherwise. God knows exactly why I have to go through this.

4) Depression--- Going on a year now. Yes, I admit it, I have become a gloomy melancholic with severe tendencies to have the OCD component of a Choleric- because I can't control what happened and really have no control over the future, I panicked. Depression is a sadness and darkness that is extremely hard to shake, but I have continued to push through. I actually believe that because of a small circle of support this is possible. I may feel desolate and isolated, but, in fact, I am surrounded by love.

5)Acceptance-- I thought I had accepted everything that happened, accepted things to be the way they are, however, I have discovered I have a VERY long way to go--- and grow. I don't know when acceptance will set in. This part of the process might take a few more years to get to, with God catching me at each fall I am willing to accept that acceptance might take a while.


I have difficulty dealing with grief, and moving on with an upward stride. But, knowing that I am being shaped into a vessel of God's love, one of more understanding, more compassion and empathy...I think I am okay with having to go through with this.

You know what Charlie Brown, maybe, just maybe... grief  IS good.

Blinded: a poem

Blinded

Reaching in the dark

longing for strength

trying to understand the depth of understanding

Spinning in circles

gasping for words

looking for a vision, unseen

Longing to know

listening and speaking

knowing words spoken can be too much

Listening for a whisper

the secret word from God

the words to echo through your very being

Speaking sounds not words

wishing for the light

wanting to know that everything is fine

Finally a hand

a whisper to your heart

the knowledge of a higher source of strength

Spinning is seizing

Darkness is fading

God has made his plan seen

The plan is to be still

to listen with your soul

you are embraced by love

unconditional

understanding

unending

Love of God

Reaching in the Dark

Have you ever felt so confused, bewildered, and in the dark that all you can do is call out to God? Asking for a lifeline, a whisper of acknowledgement, JUST a second of knowing what His peace feels like.

That about sums up my very being right now.

I feel like I am blindfolded, stumbling around on an obstacle course, have fallen one too many times, and am exhausted beyond all repair. Peace and solace don't seem feasible, even if I rest...I must keep trying to find the end of the course, in hopes, that will solve all my issues.
I, of course, know that pushing myself will not solve anything, I know that it may cause more damage than good--- but I can't help it. I need to keep going, I need to know God is there.

The instance we feel a sense of rejection, isolation, even desparation, we,as Christians, call on God. When we don't hear his voice, our call's become shouts, then eventually tears of discouragement and the inevitable SCREAMING out of His name. Reaching for his hand in the dark, hoping...that at any minute, you will feel His hand, and be on solid (and safe) ground.


When I was a child and felt isolated by peers, or life circumstances, I could always turn to God and his embrace. I had no doubts that God was in control and that He was taking care of me.

Being an altar server (and in the choir) I was almost always early for Sunday mass. This presented the perfect time for me to feel God's love. The perfect time to be with Him--just He and I.

The way I would do this is probably unorthodox, at least to many.

I would kneel/sit in the aisle on the carpet and stare at the tabernacle. Just sitting there, not really thinking about anything, but knowing that if there was a thought in my head, God knew of it and no words needed to be spoken.

 I equated sitting there, on the floor, as sitting on God's lap, as that is how it felt. I felt LOVE. Not, just loved, but the essence of  love. The entire embrace of unconditional love, and unconditional understanding.

Recently, I have gotten the urge to do just this---sit on the floor, in front of the tabernacle, to see if , as an adult, the same feeling of complete belonging would return. I am so  hesitant to even attend mass these days, that coming early seems like a huge stretch, BUT maybe this urge isn't just an urge, maybe it is God's way of calling me back to his arms, to trust like a child, to not question anymore.

God speaks to each of us in a unique way, maybe this is His way of speaking to me, showing me that no matter how old I get, I am still a child in His eyes.

Gethsemane...

This week has been nothing but an awkward downward spiral. I try with all my might to stay above ground, but here I find myself at the bottom of a well--- it is dark, cold, and lonely. Though I know God is with me, I can't see, feel or hear him---yet, I am not in a state of panic!

I am actually comfortable here, at least I have grown comfortable. I know that this darkness will eventually pass, and that the feeling of loneliness, is only that...just a feeling. But the isolation is what frightens me. Without even knowing it, I have isolated myself from things that I love, and this has probably resulted in my not being able to find a job in the field that I have studied.

A little back story
You see, when things out of your control happen, you tend to lose control of you.If you are lucky you quickly recover and jump back up again.
But for me, as sad as I am to even put this in print, my resilience has caught up with me. I often thought how lucky I was that I could bounce back from the most horrible situations and be unscathed, unmarked, unwounded. The truth is, I was building a wall...a wall of invincibility, which given enough impact, was eventually going to tumble down. About a year ago, the wall started tumbling, and I, now, find myself falling with it.

It is funny that as I have experienced this tumbling of the wall, my eyes  (spiritual and physical) seem more open, I see and feel things on a totally different level. I cry when I see a child that looks lonely, I want to hug the homeless vet who approaches me for money, and I feel vulnerable at every second. The vulnerability is an extremely new thing for me, as I have always been the STRONG one, the one who didn't cry at deaths, who has always kept it together during tragic circumstances---even those directly involving myself--but I am allowing God to work these things out, I still question the validity of His will, but I am willing to trust. Even if it is hesitantly.

We all must spend some time in Gethsemane!
Jesus spent that painstaking night in the garden with his apostles and dear friends, praying that he wouldn't have to go through with crucifixion. I always fall victim to this image. The son of God came down in human form: The visit to Gethsemane, shows his humanness, shows his frailty, shows that even those who have a higher purpose, question what is meant to be. I cry with Jesus, I cry for Jesus, I cry because Jesus followed his call.
Jesus struggled with the knowledge of what was to come, he also struggled with the fact that his disciples, his friends--THOSE CLOSEST TO HIM--failed to see what was happening and did not understand. How lonely and scared he must have felt. I am glad that Jesus himself has experienced such desolation, makes my struggle seem a little less daunting.

Jesus Meek and Humble of Heart, make our hearts like unto thine!

So...from the bottom of this well, I have found comfort. I know that even though people might fail to understand what is going on, that God knows. I know that even though I often feel like I can't see or breathe, God is there to catch me. And I know that even though I have no idea where this journey will take me, someday I will be able to step out of this well and feel the grass under my feet, again.

Slowly. In time. In HIS time.

We all must spend some time in Gethsamane, it will only bring us closer to God.

The Pope of Hope!

Words can not describe how very excited I am about the election of our new pope.

Pope Francis I

Habemus Papam!!

The First is just an understatement: He is the first pope from the Americas, The first pope to be from Argentina, The first pope to be a Jesuit, the first pope to take the name Francis and the first pope that openly takes public transportation.

All of the above attributes, instill hope within my soul, within my very being. A sense of healing for the universal church, a sense of peace for the world.

Pope Francis, is just as humble as the saint of which he has taken the name. He reminds me of the neighborhood grandfather, quiet and even tempered but able to give strict discipline when needed. I await his gentle shepherding of  his flock The Church!

I also love the fact he strives for simplicity, you can tell in the way he speaks and the live from which he came, that he is truly a pope of the people and for the people.

I can't help but think that his papacy will be one we all will remember, one of rebuilding, one of healing and one of true hope!

Viva Papa Francisco!

Pain, is it really worth it?

I have always been told that pain is the essence of a person.

Pain creates a person, molds a person, makes them who they are. The more pain, the stronger the person.
To me, this sounds like the building of a robot, more than a person infused with the love of God.

Having recently been through a windmill and hurricane of craziness, and still in immense emotional and spiritual pain, it is extremely hard to even try and understand how being in pain or suffering can actually make me a better person. Many of my friends have turned away exasperated that they can't help me get my feet on the ground, I have even had a "therapist" give up on me...if this doesn't make one feel helpless, and hopeless, I really don't know what does.

In times like this when I have no earthly connection, I often turn to a saint friend of mine: St. Gemma Galgani.
She had earthly connections, but longed mostly for those of a heavenly nature, and if anyone knew what true suffering was. She did. St. Gemma is a Stigmatist  not only receiving the 5 Holy Wounds, but receiving the crown of thorns as well. Many did not believe that she was given this gift, she was often pushed aside as a liar and a peasant. She dressed simply--- but her love of Jesus, was NOT. She is THE ideal saint to turn to when in pain, her faith alone makes one want to continue on.

She didn't wish for cancer- the only thing that would make my pain make any sense to me---but she suffered from spinal tuberculosis, which would be cured, then ultimately came back and took her holy life.

St. Gemma, PRAY FOR US!!

It is amazing to have a holy friend to turn to. 

When I read her biography, autobiography, and diary, I fall into a trance of amazement, and understanding. That pain is in fact good. It perfects us in the eyes of God. It really does make us who we are meant to be.

I leave you with one of my favorite quotes from St. Gemma herself:

"When I shrink from suffering, Jesus reproves me and tells me that He did not refuse to suffer. Then I say 'Jesus, Your will and not mine'. At last I am convinced that only God can make me happy, and in Him I have placed all my hope..."

We all must remember...it is God's will that we are here, it is God's will that we suffer at this moment. Beauty and peace will come at another time.

But...I don't wanna

Remember the first time you were faced with the monkey bars?

The feeling of complete awe that you, a small child of 3 or 4 would actually be able to climb across this sideways metal ladder. The fear that if mommy or daddy let go you would go plunging to the ground, maybe even through the ground at such a pace you would wind up in Africa all alone. You are so small, it is so big.

You reach up to touch the first rung, but can't reach. You try again...nope. Quickly you turn to daddy for the answer. He lifts you up, just about half a foot, NOW you are holding onto the first rung. It is so cold and your hand can barely hold the bar. You let go of one hand, and daddy still has you, making you feel more confident. From daddy's arms you reach for the second rung, grab it and bring your other hand to it. This uncertainty continues, until you reach the end, at which point you say "Again Daddy!"
This time is a little different, you have more confidence, you don't check to see if  daddy has you after each rung. You soon realize that you have reached the next to last rung, and daddy is just standing near you, not holding on. You panic, let go...fall to the ground and begin to cry.


That is how letting go has affected me.

Many wonderful things have happened since my last blog post. I found out that my medical bills, which I have been struggling to pay, have been taken care of my an anonymous donor at the hospital (Thank you, Jesus) and I have also had a few interesting job opportunities.
First of all, they have decided to make me a shift supervisor at the coffee shop that I work at. This would have been extremely exciting news in November, as I was hired with the intention of becoming a shift---it has been 5 months since I started working there. I love the job, most of the time, but I often find myself thinking that there has got to be more. I know within my heart that the coffee shop is just a temporary thing, and my mind has also decided this, but I must keep trucking along until I know what I must do!
Secondly, I have had 2 job interviews, at 2 very different places. Yay!
The First job was at a nursing home, they loved my application and resume, loved most of my references, then they called the convent. I have not spoken with them since leaving, and when I left I was in a pretty bad place. They did not know this and because of my "mental health", I was not hired at the nursing home.
The Second job is at an elementary school working with children whom have special  needs--where my heart and soul truly rests. I was supposed to hear back by the end of this week about employment, and have yet to receive a phone call or letter. I have logged onto the company website, and where it used to say "Under Review" it now says "Not being considered". This broke my heart
Because everything happened in an amazing sequence.
I expected amazing things to happen.


Be Still and Know that I am God.

I was still, but now I am more confused about trusting than ever.
I don't wanna be still any longer

Right now I can hear God saying "Patience little one, one day you will be able to use the monkey bars all by yourself...you just have to do some more growing"

I guess I have to listen.