Suffering

Over the past few weeks, I have noticed a theme in the priest’s homilies – suffering seems to be a recurring theme these days and it is fitting that I should hear it. Today marks the Feast of St. Teresa of Liseaux and the Archbishop spoke about her life and how she suffered, she was an ordinary person with an extraordinary faith. What is extraordinary about St. Teresa’s faith is the simplicity of it, the childlike affection she had for God. She saw beauty in every small thing and offered her sufferings to God. I love St. Teresa. I feel like I owe part of my conversion to her. The archbishop spoke about how holy St. Teresa was at a young age and that she experienced a complete conversion at the age of fourteen. He then said that we can all remember at some point when we were given the choice to turn one way or the other when it was just between you and God. I reflected on the day my life changed when I surrendered to God’s will at St. Teresa’s Church , it was a time in my life when everything changed for the better. I guess this past few years, I seem to have taken back my will from God but he wants it again. The memory of that day caused me to look upon the cross and give in. I don’t know what He wants or where He will lead me. The arch bishop spoke about St. Teresa’s complete surrender to God and the suffering it meant for her, but that she also experienced so much joy in her surrender. I recall a passage I wrote shortly after World youth Day in Toronto, albeit inspired- perhaps even divinely.


July 30, 2002


Looking back, I am thankful things happened the way they did. It brought me closer to God and I learned so much. I grew spiritually this past week. I learned that in order to find true happiness one must understand God. The purpose of life is to be truly happy. True happiness is to be one with God and to have complete trust in Him. The only way to achieve this is through suffering. We must thank God for our suffering because through suffering and sacrifice we understand Jesus. When we understand Jesus, we understand God. When we suffer, we suffer with Christ; with sacrifice we receive back twice what we sacrificed in the first place. This only occurs when we accept our suffrage and surrender to God’s will for us. This act alone will bring about so much change in our lives. Peace will wash over you like a wave, and you will be filled with joy. God taught me this lesson in a matter of hours and I am truly grateful because our relationship is closer because of it. I don’t know God’s will for me but I truly trust Him so I don’t have to fight against it. I believe everything will be fine, I won’t have to worry because God my Father is lovingly taking care of me.



After my father died, I was in shock- I still am and I cannot deny I felt angry that God had not answered my prayers. I looked at the crucifix on my wall – the same one that hung on the wall in the same room my grandmother died in and I said in hurtful frustration, “Your will is BS.” In the same instant, I felt Jesus whisper, “Don’t my wounds mean anything?” I cried and felt sorry and ashamed for my reproach. During the time Dad was in hospital, I recalled many things. For instance, Dad would like us to put a cold cloth to his head or massage his neck and I truly saw Jesus on the Cross. I empathized with Mary and understood Veronica’s compassion. Since that empathy I feel more emotion during the blessing of the Holy Sacrament. Some people can envision the Body of our Lord being held up for all to see, but since Dad died, I see something different. For some reason since my father’s death, I reflected on what is most precious to Mary and that is her Baby Jesus. That is what I feel when I see the Eucharist held up before me.



I am going to make another go of this surrendering business; it’s hard to give up control. I cannot do it anymore, I am overwhelmed and I must let God take over now. If He should grace me with earthly happiness, I will be blessed. If He should grace me with more suffering, I will be blessed – as hard as it is to accept. That is the hard part about accepting suffering, it isn’t easy, and I grieve not only for my father but for the dreams I have. I fear God will suffer me longer and I don’t know how much more I can take. If only I could be more like St. Teresa, quiet surrender, silent suffering. Lord, here am I to do your will, though I am afraid.

Silence

I love to write as much as I love to sing. My life is crazy and has been this past couple of years. I was curious as to whether my blog still existed and to my delight it does. I love the name, very poignant and fitting to my spiritual struggle. I don’t know where to start or what to write, I’ll let God guide my fingers. In April of 2010, my father was diagnosed with Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis a serious lung disease which he lost a brother to. I have struggled spiritually so much and felt so far from God while still holding on to faith as is it were the only thing keeping my head above the water in this perfect storm of life. I have let myself become busy to the point that I am unable to quiet myself to connect with God like I used to. When I try to quiet myself, the world creeps in and distracts me with endless tasks, even though they are tied to my faith work whether it be Music Ministry, Pro Life Work, Professional work, the list is endless. The main difficulty I have with my spiritual life is my unavailability to God, we have become distant friends with a quick “hello” here and there. I feel as though He and I are at a standstill, a stalemate – the other unwilling to budge and an impossible situation to be in. I made a promise of chastity many years ago to God, which I have kept with the hopes of being rewarded. I have often looked upon the Cross and stomped my foot in frustration, my patience is dwindling and I feel alone. I wonder what God’s will is for me, to always suffer to never feel happiness. How did Job do it? I know he cried out to God and asked to be relieved and cursed the day of his birth. I have been waiting so long for God’s grace, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong or what He wants of me. This past two years has been a test, with my father’s illness, professional struggles, personal issues; my heart has been very weighed down. My father passed away August 21st and the heavenly whispers I longed to hear have slowly been coming back to me, though it is bittersweet and I resent it, because my heart has been torn open. With the sadness comes silence and detachment, I’ve never felt so alone in my life. How I pray God would answer my prayers and grant me the gift of a loving soul mate. My idea of true love is friendship raised to a higher level. My soul would feel at ease in his presence, the crazy life I lead would all come to a stop at the mere sight of him. I just want someone who loves me to be with me when I die. God knows what I want and I’m disappointed that it’s been eight years and it hasn’t come to fruition. I feel God with me and that we’ve been sat down in the same room by some unknown force but neither of us is willing to speak… therein lies the silence. What event shall mediate the relationship to closeness again? I do not know but I shall keep holding on.

Let Me Introduce Myself...

My name is Kellie Ann and here is a part of my story... this is my entrance letter to study Theology

Since I have been twelve I have kept a diary and from the very first entry I wrote about God and feeling His presence. As I look back at the pages of my life I realized many things, one being that I have always been able to recognize God’s presence that I wrote about God often and reflected what that meant to me. I remember in grade four I wrote a poem, it’s title was “Candle in the Night”, I showed it to my teacher and never saw it again, to this day the only thing I remember is that it was about Jesus showing us a way in the dark.

I first began to sing publicly at fifteen after achieving a solo in our school’s production of “Jesus Christ Superstar”. After that I was often asked to sing at school masses. When my grandmother died that year I sang at her funeral in church and have been leading my congregation in song ever since. I enjoy it really, I feel like when I sing it helps people experience the mass on a more spiritual level. It fulfills me because I know that it brings people closer to God and that makes me feel like I’m doing something for God.

There have been many people who have inspired me, one of them being Father Ramon Bolotete. His interpretation of the gospel would sometimes bring me to tears, his words and gentle manner helped to bring me to a closer relationship with God. The summer before I went to university, I wrote him a very detailed profession of faith and described how he had inspired me. When I finally did go to university, I got caught up in a way of life that wasn’t for me and I knew it. Feeling lost, broken and lonely, I got up one Sunday morning and went to the nearest church. All the songs and the readings seemed to say the same thing, “Turn to God” I remember crying and saying to God, “I can’t deal with this anymore, help me, and it’s all in your hands.” I just let go and it felt like a big burden had been lifted off my shoulders. It was at that time that I received a reply letter from Father Ramon thanking me for the letter I sent him. It seemed like a sign from God letting me know that everything would work out. And it did, I started to go to church every Sunday, I thrived in school but I eventually decided that the career I chose was not for me. I then began working as a telemarketer and then moved on to work at a sandwich take out.

During the time I worked there I dated a young man, after a couple of months we both decided that we felt no strong connection and went our separate ways. It was then that I began discerning a religious life, feeling confused I asked God to “show me a light”. I moved home to work at a local convenience store. I then resumed going to church at my parish, where I learned a seminarian had just been ordained a deacon. In his first homily to us, he spoke about a little boy congratulating him on becoming a “beacon”. He said he was going to correct the boy but then realized that maybe the boy was right, that maybe he was a “beacon” to show people “the light”. As I heard this I began to cry, I decided it was a sign for me to talk to this Deacon. I knew that God wanted me to hear something the Deacon would say. I made an appointment and I explained to the Deacon about the confusion and all the emotions I’d been feeling. He told me “…in order to know God’s will you have to surrender to God’s will, thy kingdom come, thy will be done”. I almost cried when I heard those words, I had never heard anyone say, “Surrender to God” and it was exactly what I needed to hear. About a week after that I spoke to Father Dunn and he recommended me to the Sisters of Mercy and I have been under their spiritual direction ever since.

I then started to feel “called” to go to World Youth Day in Toronto; I joined the youth group and began fundraising for the event. Later that year I began a career exploration program and was faced with the wrenching decision of not going to World Youth Day. I felt torn, heartbroken and I cried for hours, in the end I decided that the “calling” to go to World Youth Day was too strong to ignore and chose to miss the week of school instead. I felt that something very significant was going to happen and that God would reveal something to me.

Something did happen at World Youth Day and it sent me into a state of shock. It was nothing like I expected, now I realize it was so much more. The first thing that affected me was how enthusiastic people were about spirituality, during catechesis I saw people on their hands and knees crying and praying, it brought me to tears. The music throughout the whole week touched me on many levels. I went to confession while I was there and it made me feel so refreshed. On our way to Niagara Falls, we got on our bus to find a man who seemed disoriented, flailing his arms and moaning in anguish. A couple of our male leaders lifted him off our bus; they were just going to leave him there. The first thing that came to my mind was the story of Jesus disguised as a beggar. We all pleaded for someone to get him help and they called an ambulance for him. Another experience that sticks out for me was, one night back at the school we were staying at, a few of us stayed up talking with a man from New Jersey. He told us that both his children were diagnosed with leukemia. In one of his efforts to help his children, he would stand on streets asking people to pray for his children. Later, one person came back to him and told him he had never prayed until he had been asked to pray for this man’s children and that it had brought him closer to God. The man from New Jersey then thanked God for giving his children cancer because if it brought one person closer to God, it gave his children’s life meaning. That through some divine act of God, the loss of his children would help God Shepherd His lost children. The man from New Jersey told us his children have been in remission since then. There we all were enthralled by this man’s story, sitting around him. It brought to mind Jesus teaching the disciples. I remember looking at this man’s feet, rugged and worn, wondering if Jesus’ feet might have looked like that.

The night before the vigil, I volunteered to escort a young man who was unable to walk to the vigil site due to physical and psychological disabilities. The next day we were picked up by the bus and we went to Downsview. I was told that we had to go to the handicap section, after a half hour walking around we found it and they wouldn’t let us in because they said we weren’t registered. I don’t know what happened but our passes for that section had somehow not been given to us. Stefan the young man, needed to show his disability identification card and they let us in. After tending to Stefan’s needs, I looked around and was shocked to see how isolated the handicap section was from everything else. We were behind a wire fence with barbwire on top of it. The whole day I had to fight to get in and out of the section because we had no passes. I wouldn’t have left but the bathrooms were outside the section, we had meal tickets but you needed six to redeem a meal and no one would combine with us, so we had to buy our food from vendors. I was trying to look for our group but to no avail.

Walking through all the people, a priest stopped me and asked what was wrong. After I told him he blessed both Stefan and I & then said a prayer for us. Finally we went back to the handicap section and I fought until they gave us passes. We were told we had to sleep on the concrete floor of an airport hanger and that’s where we spent the night. The next day we set up next to the fence to see the Holy Father drive by. It seemed unimaginable that they would put politicians and so called important guests next to the stage and keep people who couldn’t hear, speak or walk behind a barbwire fence a half a mile away. When the Pope finally drove by, I cried because all these beautiful people were reaching out to him behind a fence of thorns. Maybe we are all like these people reaching out to God behind the barrier of life’s difficulties and burdens. We were sat next to a woman named Louise who was barely able to speak. She consoled me because I was so upset about Stefan’s and my situation and the fact that God’s most beloved were cast out where no one could see them. She told me she was happy to see Stefan and I helping one another and that God sends us angels. I can’t remember everything she said but she was an angel because her words got me through that day. She told me she used to love to sing and missed it dearly, with tears in my eyes I told her I would sing for her, she cried and we all embraced each other.
World Youth Day was a significant spiritual event for me and it has taken many years for me to process it. God revealed something to me - that I feel His love for disabled people, I admire their innocence and preciousness. I have been in discernment for many years struggling with expectations that my parents have for me and the gentle whispering of the Holy Spirit within me. During the last four years I have been experiencing a spiritual disconnection but I have been holding on to my faith as if it was the only thing keeping me alive. Last January, my sister was sexually assaulted by my best friend’s father. It was a devastating loss and I will miss her friendship forever. I drew strength from my faith to endure the questioning in our small community and I gave my full support to my sister during the trial and conviction of a once family friend. It has only been since the conviction that I have begun to feel the hurt healing. I went to Mass for Holy Thursday in St. Theresa’s and part of the priest’s homily was about forgiveness and I realized that I have to let it go, I do not hate the man but I hate what he did. I pray that if he ever realizes the error in his ways that God will be there to console him.

I have been patiently waiting for something to stir, to feel God’s presence gently pushing me past the stagnant routine my life has become. A few weeks ago my Aunt called from Nova Scotia and I learned that my cousin and his fiancé had been refused the sacrament of marriage. I felt disappointed because I use every opportunity to encourage my peers to open themselves to their faith and return to the church. I thought, “How can I defend the church if they will be turned away?” I wrote a letter to the Archbishop of Halifax imploring him to intervene. In my letter I spoke of God’s unconditional love and using the parable of The Prodigal Son and The Good Shepherd, I explained that God will welcome us home with open arms and that it is part of a priest’s responsibility to enable the Holy Spirit, to emulate The Good Shepherd and gather the sheep in His arms. The Bishop’s Aide has contacted my Aunt. She, my cousin and his fiancé will be meeting with a priest to further discuss the matter. When I went to Mass that Sunday as I was Leader of Psalm, I listened to the readings and learned that it was the celebration of The Good Shepherd. In my heart, I felt that God had timed everything perfectly and it was at that moment I believe, the Spirit began to stir within me again.

I became curious about Divinity Colleges and I found myself on the site for the Atlantic School of Theology. I learned that lay persons can take classes! I read course descriptions and my heart began to swell with excitement. I wondered to myself, “How would I be able to do this?”, and I decided to investigate. I made an appointment with a professor of Religious Studies in Memorial University to see if they offered any courses only to discover that it was not what I was seeking. That same day, I visited Sr. Maureen and talked with her about the desire to pursue a correspondence program with the Atlantic School of Theology. Sr. Maureen told me about Queen’s College and the pang of desire and yearning overwhelmed me. I emailed Dr. Carmel Doyle and asked to meet with her. I did not know what to expect and the moment we began to speak I felt comfortable and I explained why I was there. I learned that there were others who felt the same way I do and they embarked upon this path in the same way I intend to. I met with the students and I felt a kindred connection and I knew that this is where I belong. I’ve been asking myself why didn’t I do this years ago and the only explanation I can understand is that God needed me to have these experiences in order to bring me here now. If I had not been exposed to the events that unfolded, I would be somewhere else. I do not know the destination, and it is only now I know the way. Here I am, afraid and mystified of the unknown, yet my spirit is yielding with complete trust in the Father’s guidance. I look to Queen’s College for a more structured learning and exploration in deepening my faith and spirituality by aiding me to integrate my life’s experiences with teachings of the scriptures and enhance my knowledge of church traditions. I wish to examine and discern the empathy I feel towards the disabled and learn how I can inspire the spark of spiritual growth in the young. The possibilities are endless and uncertain, so now I must begin.