Hmmm… The last few months of my life have been a mixture of tantrum throwing, rebellion, grudge holding, anger, doubt and lots of numbness – in my spiritual life and in relationship to God, that is.
[P.S. If this is too long for you, at least scroll down to the bottom (no…actually, the middle. I kept writing after that) to see TWO COOL things that I wanted to share!]
Lots of doubts. My spirit was lashing out, expressed in angry, loud and accusatory doubts. My spirit was either yelling these doubts at God, glaring at Him or giving Him the silent treatment, trying to say, “I don’t believe in You anymore.” But the doubts were fueled by pain, confusion, anger, blindness and that tantrum/rebellion stuff. He knew that. And in my darkness, I was pretty much telling my closest friends that…..let’s see…..stuff like: I didn’t believe in prayer anymore; After all these years of seeking and listening and trying to follow, I just don’t believe God can actually get through to me at all; I don’t think He guides me; That it’s hard to believe that there’s meaning or purpose to life in general, and mine specifically, and all the suffering I see. I just couldn’t find a belief in me, anymore, that God is actually and truly involved in my life.
Putting words to it like that feels awkward. Inaccurate. It feels like I’m putting words in my own mouth, and it doesn’t do the darkness any justice. But anyway, it gives an idea. Perhaps it doesn’t do it justice because it is not being placed side-by-side, and compared, with the strength, brightness and confidence of my faith at other times in my life.
So anyway – it’s been a dark 6-7 months. But these past 8 days have been a turn around. And I’m glad. I’m not on cloud nine, by any means. I don’t think I’ll be there very often, spiritually, any more in life. Maybe moments here and there, and those will be great gifts. But generally – to be “doing well” will be, just, a sort of calmness….cluelessness….littleness. Actually, I see it as the peace of true humility when faced with your identity (beggar; weak; empty; pure longing; often prone to sin in the seeking of happiness or fulfillment by choosing superficialities/false happinesses) in the face of God’s identity (Love – overabundant and overflowing). Hmmm – That’s kinda like a thesis statement that this will unpack.
This would be the longest blog in the world if I went through all the happenings that led to the brighter-ness. But I’ll just say this. It included…
- all the darkness stated in the first sentence
- acts done out of that place (that “prone to sin in the seeking of happiness or fulfillment by choosing false happiness” that I mentioned)
- a state of shame in front of, and yet a longing for, God – mixed together
- the love, prayers and total acceptance of friends
- the love, prayers and total acceptance of Br. Cassian – I begged him to offer up his Lent for me when I knew I was in such darkness and dire need. The Lord Himself has been helping me very much, but I know he played a part in it too.
- the love, prayers and total acceptance of Sr. Mary Joseph
- finally telling God to His face about all the darkness and doubts
- facing my soul’s deep sorrow
- lots and lots and lots of tears
- a miraculous run-in with a National Shrine and Basilica in the middle of farmland Ohio
- a miraculously timed confession with an amazing priest there, Fr. John
- more tears
- beautiful clouds, sun rays and a rainbow
- the soothing and beautiful nature of this southeastern Ohio landscapre as I drove the last 30 miles to arrive at Green Edge Gardens
And then there has been just being here. This past week of work has made me happy. I just really like being outside and working with my body. (I know I’ll be miserable at times. Especially when it gets hotter. But still – I’m glad.) I like the peace and quiet. The slow pace. The simplicity that they live in here. I’m a little lonely so far. But overall, I’m glad.
And then I also see all the things that I am very grateful for in this set up. This farm and this town didn’t have to be such a perfect fit (it’s kind of suspicious).
- Kip, the owner, is Catholic. He goes to Sunday Mass, occasional Adoration and he’s friends with the priests here and other great Catholic people. I’m blown away by his positivity, kindness and generosity (not to mention, energy! He’s 62. Wow!)
- Because of that, there is a lot of accommodation for my faith here, and a respectful space for it.
- There are two evening Masses during the week that I will occasionally get to make it to.
- There is Adoration at the Church in town every Saturday, from noon to 10 pm!!
- And I see young people at every Mass I go to. Very impressive for a college town.
Ok, the 2 cool things (the reason I’m even blogging all of this)
First thing – Yesterday, I spent some time in Adoration. It was really nice. I was grateful for the fact that it would be happening every week! At one point I was getting out my journal to write some stuff in it, and I was looking through some past entries, when I stumbled upon this:
Mary. Father. Lord Jesus. In the power and unity and humility and truth of the Holy Spirit, may I make a request? Will you provide me with the opportunities, real and incarnate, to live out my dream of living closer to the land, closer to the way you put us here to live; in simplicity?
I wrote that just 2 days after the break up. That’s mid-December. Wow. When I read that – sitting in that Church in this small town, my body tired after a full week of working at this organic farm – I was grateful. I see God’s hand in things – in getting me here, in me being in this exact place, in me coming out of the darkness the day of my arrival here. I see it, even though I have been in darkness and rebellion and tantrum throwing and resentment. I am truly humbled…
Second thing – Today I went out to my car to get my calendar so that I could write a few events onto it. When I went to write “First day of work at Green Edge” on the little square for Monday, April 4th, I stopped. My eyes bugged out; my head jutted forward a bit, and I said, “No flippin’ waaaaaaaaaaay!” April 4th was the feast of St. Isidore . . . patron saint of farmers. In that moment, I knew I wanted to write this blog. It was kind of like the straw that broke the camel’s back, in a good way. I already felt this way, but it just cemented it: I admit defeat. I was wrong. God does hear my heart and my prayers, and He is guiding me. And even though I can still feel fears and doubts, and even though I now think that my life and it’s meaning will look different than I ever imagined before, I do believe there’s meaning to things, and to my life. And that God is involved. (Sadly, though! After I wrote this blog, I looked up St. Isidore the Farmer. His feast day is May 15th. St. Isidore of Seville is April 4th. He’s the patron saint of computers and the internet. Totally not as cool, which is a bummer. But I can’t delete this blog now. Funny though – his patronage is still semi-related, isn’t it? I’m blogging, on a computer and via the internet, because I’m farming. HA! –> St. Isidore and St. Isidore, pray for me.
So – Why Psalm 131 as my title? Lemme see if I can explain.
My heart was broken. I experienced the pain of utter rejection and of being ‘not wanted.’ This pain, is the greatest pain of my life, and, I imagine, of any life. For, every human (even the most self deprecating) has an ember burning inside their soul, glowing with a truth: “I am precious. My soul is, in a sense, awe inspiring. I am special and unique. I am a treasure; a pearl. I am worthy of steadfast and faithful love.” And when one is rejected and unwanted, the soul cries out in agony, “Aren’t I lovely?! Aren’t I treasure?! Aren’t I loveable?! How can you not want me?! It’s not supposed to be this way!” I blamed God for the pain, for not protecting me from it, for another dead-end in my life, for this seemingly continual message of, “No. You’re not wanted. You’re not a treasure. You are easily moved on from and forgotten. You’ll never know unending love on this earth.”
I tried to accept that it was over and to not hold on to what was not actually there, having learned big lessons from my last heartbreak, the aftermath of which spanned yeeeeeears of my life. No, not this time! I needed to live in reality! In my journal from after the break up, immediately before the paragraph/prayer I wrote above, it reads, “Help me, my God, to accept and embrace reality (for isn’t that embracing You in Your totality and not in part? – CL) without taking it personally or hating You in it.” Oh but I did – hate Him in it… Broken heart. Pain. Hating God. Giving up on hope. Giving up on believing that there’s meaning to my life and the confusing, zig-zaggy path I travel. Not seeing any point in morality or devotion. It was a total darkness of intellect and faith. Things I once knew and would stake my life on, I just couldn’t see or understand anymore. I therefore entered into a numbness and darkness of spirit, which masqueraded as an “I’m fine” & a going around and doing “fun things” that took my mind off my heart’s pain. But inside, beyond awareness, my spirit was lashing out at God – not rejecting Him in any real and intentional way, but definitely lashing out, running from, pushing away, not looking at Him.
[And by the way, this “darkness” I speak of, I mean it in a morally neutral way. It’s just where I was. It was dark because it was horrible to experience, and sad (it’s sad that souls can live in such darkness, ignorance and untruth). It wasn’t dark because I was horrible or sinful or wrong. But there was most definitely an element of responsibility for my actions. I do not deny this. Actions that didn’t lead to peace, joy or lasting happiness. (I almost wonder if they’re “wrong” or “sinful” primarily because of that – because peace, joy and lasting happiness are what we’re made for and what God wants for us. Anyway…) This “responsibility,” however, translated within me as shame, and I couldn’t look up at God. Not to mention I was pissed as hell at Him. But that anger, that tantrum I can throw, always leads me to feel guilty and shameful. When I’m there I can’t accept His love or let Him love me – I’m too ashamed. What did Adam and Eve do in the garden, once they were aware of what they did? They hid from Him. That’s what shame does – it makes us hide from God; not be able to look at Him in the eye; not let Him love us – even though, that’s just who He is. I’ve sort of had this image of myself, when I am in shame: that I am closed in on myself, like a roly poly. And also, under an umbrella, like a turtle’s shell – and the rain of God’s love can’t touch me. That’s what shame does to me…]
After my tantrums, I often feel ashamed. I feel like, after such an episode, God must think I’m a total brat. I can’t just turn now and accept His love! He’d probably roll His eyes at me and be like, “Uggh. This one! She’s so annoying, thinking she can throw a fit, call me names, tell me she hates me . . . and then when she’s over it she thinks she can just come right back for some good old Divine Lovin’? Boy oh boy.” I intellectually know God doesn’t actually say all that, but for some reason, I have always had the hardest time coming back to Love after my tantrums.
Hmmmm . . . I think here’s where I’ll let my journal do the talking. It’s already written out there anyways. It’s from my time in Adoration yesterday.
I was letting my radio scan on the way here and then I stopped it at a Christian song I knew, and this line got me thinking in a certain way – which has colored my time here. The line is, “Where would I be without someone to save me? Someone who won’t let me fall?” And it hit me (the same old revelation. It needs to hit me again and again. What a moron I am…): I need Someone to save me. That’s it; simple as that. Not just once, but again and again. That’s my identity. My identity (as CL would put it) is a beggar. Other ways I might say it is: my identity is, a sinner. My identity is weakness and littleness. I always expect more from myself and then I’m so shocked to find that I’m weak, that I’ve fallen, that I’m not perfect, that I can’t do it, that I’m a beggar . . . that I’m a sinner: “A sinner? Me? Still?! After ‘all these years?’ 10 years of living a devoted, Catholic lifestyle, and I am still a sinner?!”
This goal I had – to be a saint – it’s a good goal, but we have this image of a saint that is wrong. We have the definition wrong. Being a saint is NOT, to be without sin. That’s only Christ. And Mary, by the great grace, gift and power of God. I, on the other hand, will always have sin. When did I get it in my head . . . when did WE on this earth, in this Church, get it in our heads . . . that to be a “good Christian,” to become a saint, meant to reach sinlessness? It’s so very damaging!
[P.S. In relations to this, I LOVE this one lyric from Mumford and Sons. It’s sanctity in my opinion, a heart changing and healing and being purified and taught, little by little, not arriving at a state of sinlessness. The line is: “It’s not the long walk home that will change this heart, but the welcome I receive with every start.”]
I’ve not yet actually reached the revelation that hit me from the song lyric I heard in the car.
What is God? He is Love. That is all He is. In the Old Testament, He is mentioned again and again, especially in the psalms, as having, for us, “steadfast love,” “unfailing love,” “faithful love.”
What is faithful? “Loyal, constant and steadfast.” It means He’ll always love us. What is His promise other than that? His promise is the gift of His very Self, His steadfast Love, and “with Him there is forgiveness of sins.”
(Why has this image of God as “steadfast” love become so huge to me, by the way? It happened in December when I searched for Psalm 130. — We all know it… Love that is unfaithful; love that wavers; love that waxes and wanes. Love that ends. All that hurts the human heart. And that tells me that that’s not what our hearts are made for. Our hearts were designed for love. The real thing. The real, cosmic definition of love: unfailing, unwavering, faithful, unending, steadfast love. That’s all God promises us. That is the promise of all promises found in the Old Testament. And that is all we want really. And more importantly, whether or not we know we want it, that’s what we all need. Each and every individual soul.) [Here’s were I love Mumford once again: “There is a design, an allignment, a cry, of hy heart to see the beauty of love as it was made to be.“]
So that’s what God is. And, what am I? A beggar. Sinful and weak. Thirsty for love and forgiveness. I am emptiness, a void, and thus, pure longing.
If that’s what I am and that’s what He is, then . . . of course I can receive His love. There no longer need to be any shame. I expect more from myself, and then I assume that God does too, and so when I fall, or am weak and choose selfishness and to superficially please myself in self-destructive ways, I fall into the pride of shame, and I cannot look at God in the eye, and it’s hard for me to receive His love – because I feel “unworthy.” Unworthy because of what I’ve done.
But why am I unworthy if that’s my identity? . . . and His? I am need, emptiness, longing. And He is an overabundance, a spilling over, of Love. If that’s true, and if I can KNOW that, then of course I can sit here, in my weakness and littleness, with the wake of self-destructive behaviors (“sin”) behind me, and easily have the humility I need to look God in the face, in my weakness and need, and let Him love me. Instead of having the shame I so often have, which, in me, is rooted in pride, because I think I should be better. — The way I see it, I’d only feel “unworthy” of God’s love if I think I should be better than I am in order to receive it. (And by the way…I think a better definition, or way of thinking about “sin,” is to see it as self-destructive; a barrier to peace, joy and true happines, which God wants for us. It’s not this thing we do that hurts God and makes Him feel sad or angry. I hate that shit. I believe in responsibility for our actions. But I hate guilt and shame, the kind that makes a soul hide from God. I think that is straight from the pits of hell.)
That stuff is what I had been thinking and feeling during Adoration, and then I was looking for Psalm 130 (which I thought was maybe 133) that says, “If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities,
Lord, who could stand? But with you there is mercy and the forgiveness of sins.” But when I looked at Psalm 133, it wasn’t it. Then my eyes fell on Psalm 131 and I felt like it was me exactly. It’s the psalm of a soul who has been humbled. That’s me. At my last confession I confessed pride, among other things. I unknowingly thought too highly of myself before. I thought I wasn’t capable of falling in such ways after my conversion. I have had to learn to “come back to love,” to come back to God after a steeper fall. I had never done that before, and didn’t quite know how. I was definitely a humbled soul.
Hmmm. My first non-farming blog. And, gee whiz, with parts straight out of my journal! I hope I’m not embarrassed later. But – I don’t really get embarrassed in baring my soul, too often. We’re all so the same. I figure that people, even if only in certain sections, feel like they’re reading the story of their own soul a bit, just like I find the story of my soul in the Old Testament history of Israel.
Eager For The Infinite 