The Mission of Life and finding Light in Dark Corners

While praying this morning I found myself being lead to this train of metaphorical thought.
“I’ve been calling your name over and over, I’m holding the door open but you won’t come in. I know you hear me because you look toward me. You’re too busy out playing spotlight in the dark, come here in the light where you can see”.

I spent a night on the town with a friend of mine a few weeks ago. This friend is the complete polar opposite of me; she does not hold herself accountable and is not a practicing member of her faith. Yet, I see goodness in her…we were on Water Street and we watched a magician perform a few card tricks. I noticed her speaking with another girl in the crowd. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about but I caught the end of the conversation, “My God, ________ you need to get some help and get your life straightened out, I don’t want to hear of anything bad happening to you. Take care of yourself.” My friend told me that she went to school with the girl and that she was living on the street and addicted to cocaine and heroin.

I was moved by that experience and perplexed. My friend who denounces religion showed a merciful act of kindness in her words to that girl on the street. Another example are two friends of mine who are married and have a child but have big issues with organized religion. They never go to church and the guy says he believes in a higher being but will not allow himself to be dictated on what he should or should not believe. Despite all this – they are the most Christian people I know. They live freely without attending church or following church teaching yet they live out fully Christian ideals (maybe subconsciously).

In THEOLOGY: A Very Short Introduction , David ford says, “ So even those who think they have left their family or their faith, usually go on being influenced by it, and generally need something like another family or another faith in order to live a satisfactory life.” I think that over the course of people’s lives that leave their faith, there exist some residual elements of the faith they were raised with. Our lives are affected by everything we read, by everything we learn. My point – there is good in everyone no matter what state they are in.


Luke 4: 14-21
14And Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit, and news about Him spread through all the surrounding district.
15And He began (teaching in their synagogues and was praised by all.
16And He came to Nazareth, where He had been brought up; and as was His custom, He entered the synagogue on the Sabbath, and stood up to read.
17And the book of the prophet Isaiah was handed to Him. And He opened the book and found the place where it was written,
18"( THE SPIRIT OF THE LORD IS UPON ME,
BECAUSE HE ANOINTED ME TO PREACH THE GOSPEL TO THE POOR.
HE HAS SENT ME TO PROCLAIM RELEASE TO THE CAPTIVES,
AND RECOVERY OF SIGHT TO THE BLIND,
TO SET FREE THOSE WHO ARE OPPRESSED,
19TO PROCLAIM THE FAVORABLE YEAR OF THE LORD."

20And He closed the book, gave it back to the attendant and sat down; and the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on Him.

21And He began to say to them, "Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."

22And all were speaking well of Him, and wondering at the gracious words which were falling from His lips; and they were saying, " Is this not Joseph's son?"

23And He said to them, "No doubt you will quote this proverb to Me, 'Physician, heal yourself! Whatever we heard was done at Capernaum, do here in your hometown as well.'"

24And He said, "Truly I say to you, no prophet is welcome in his hometown.

25"But I say to you in truth, there were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah, when the sky was shut up for three years and six months, when a great famine came over all the land;

26and yet Elijah was sent to none of them, but only to Zarephath, in the land of Sidon, to a woman who was a widow.

27"And there were many lepers in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet; and none of them was cleansed, but only Naaman the Syrian."

28And all the people in the synagogue were filled with rage as they heard these things;

29and they got up and drove Him out of the city, and led Him to the brow of the hill on which their city had been built, in order to throw Him down the cliff.

30But passing through their midst, He went His way.

A Memory of my Grandmother

This morning I began a reading a book of meditations of St. Therese of Lisieux. The focus being on how Therese communicated to God in her "Heart to Hearts". Therese saw God as a loving parent with arms open wide ready to accept and forgive the little child. It is a beautiful image, and the first meditation concluded by asking the reader to reflect upon a childhood memory of experiencing the care and affection of someone. I paused, closed my eyes and unpacked the many memories I have trying to find the perfect one in which I felt completely safe and loved, then I remembered this...

As a young girl I often had terrible dreams. One in particular scared me out of my wits, I recall it having something to do with mirrors and the devil - there were times I wouldn't go to sleep unless all the mirrors were covered. My father's parents lived with us and I often found myself knocking on their door on the nights I couldn't sleep. My Grandmother would ask if I'd had that dream again and escort me back to my room where she would kiss my forehead, snuggle me close and say the Rosary. When she said the Rosary my fears always subsided and I would feel safe and peaceful as if she had invoked my Guardian angel to keep watch over me - but she would stay with me until I fell asleep. My Grandmother was a loving and comforting woman, I only wish that she were still here. I can only hope that one day I will leave such a wonderful memory to my own grandchild.

I dreamed a dream…

A couple of nights ago, I had a rather perplexing dream and am baffled as to its meaning. I dreamt I was at Mass at St. Teresa’s in which all four priests there presided. All four priests wore black, gold, violet and green palliums over their chasubles. My dream occurred during communion, I had noticed a woman getting in and out of line seemingly undecided whether or not to receive the Eucharist. When she decided to get back in line the last time, she put out her hand to get in front of a young girl in a white communion dress. The young girl began to cry and the priest refused the woman communion. The woman started to scream and cry hysterically, and then two priests took her each by the arm and dragged her out of the church.
I am rather upset by this dream and I find it disturbing. I have been unable to think about anything else. The only thing I could find on the internet was this…
“To dream of communion, symbolizes your conflict with the material world and the spiritual world. You are torn between your values and your feelings. Alternatively, the dream indicates a betrayal. You may also be seeking some form of acceptance”.

If anyone reads this, what are your thoughts?

Week One

I begin my course is Theological Studies next week…meaning a lot of reading for me to do. I have to re-evaluate some time management issues. At least I will have a few days next week to get myself on a more liveable schedule, I won’t be able to go to Mass as often as I have done this summer. I am also seeking direction with a Jesuit Priest, I am not sure if it will be fruitfull but I am going to see him for a few sessions and see how it works out. He loaned me a book called, “When the Well Runs Dry” and for the small amount of time I had to read it – I really like it. After speaking with him, I realize that just because I feel like I am walking in a desert; it doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s a bad thing. Jesus often retreated to the desert for days and days to pray and fast. The Jesuit said that the spiritual desert is where God purifies our souls, often providing us with an oasis here and there. In retrospect, I agree with that statement, this past few months have been like that for me, really dry but then at the most unsuspecting moments a glimmer of consolation and peace. On a happier note, my first spiritual director is visiting Newfoundland and I am excited to see him again, I am hoping for a really nice chat and to catch up. I came across this on The Deacon’s Bench and I meant to paste it here. It is about a woman’s decision to devote her life to God and it has resonated in me ever since. Enjoy.

I come to the door of the house, carrying my jar of ointment, still wondering what possessed me to come. As I bribe the doorkeeper — who knows me — to let me in, I wonder what He will do when I touch His feet. If He should kick at me, it is only what I deserve, but if He does before I can anoint Him, what then? What then? No answer comes. And now I am already inside, burning under the hostile gaze of everyone in the room. Oh, God, it is a regular dinner party! They all know, they all accuse, they all wonder how I gained entrance. Even the maidservants stare.But there He is, and he is not looking at me. He is attentive to a conversation which He has just begun with someone on the opposite side of the table — almost as though He is deliberately distracting attention from me — and others are joining in now, too. The oppressive, silent accusation is lifted, and I make my way to Him. As I remove His sandals, he doesn’t flinch, and I begin to weep. He is letting me touch Him! He is letting me touch Him without fuss or ceremony; I didn’t even have to ask! As my tears fall on His ankle accidentally, I realize how dirty these feet are. Whatever water I can, I use; my tears shall cleanse Him even as they cleanse my heart from so much worry, so much shame. All my memories of sin, I pour out of my eyes; all my wishes to begin again as a new woman, become tears to wash away the dust on these precious feet. But what shall I use to dry them? Even my clothes are tainted by my past life — I cannot dirty these feet anew by using defiled veil or dress. But my hair is mine; God-given from before I fell away from him. Pulling back my veil, I loosen its combs and let its coils tumble down. Gently, I dry away my tears and try to calm the tremors in my stomach and hands. How can He be allowing this? He still has not even looked at me!
Finally I reach for my jar. Though this ointment cost me nearly all my ill-gotten fortune, it now pales in the face of what this wandering prophet has given me. I no longer desire any vestige of my sinfulness, any remnant of this life, and I break the neck of the jar on the stone floor, emptying its entire contents on the feet before me. The noise and smell which soon overpowers the room immediately bring attention back on me, and I hide my scarlet face by bending and kissing once more His now-pungent feet.
Then I hear his voice and feel a gently hand on my head. “Simon, I have something to say.”

Truckling to God

As of Late, I have been struggling with where God calls me. Today I came across an interesting word: Truckle...whose meaning goes something like this -

1. To yield or bend obsequiously to the will of another; to act in a subservient manner.
2. A small wheel or roller; a caster.


As much as I try to do what He requires of me, I resist. Newton's Law of Motions states that, "To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." As much as I pull back, He pursues me all the more. Adversely, when I become the pursuer, He fleetingly escapes me.

Sorrow a Sin?

I found myself reflecting on the Seven Virtues and how they relate to the Seven Cardinal Sins. While reading I came across this tidbit…
“When Thomas Aquinas described acedia in his interpretation of the list, he described it as an uneasiness of the mind, being a progenitor for lesser sins such as restlessness and instability. Dante refined this definition further, describing acedia as the failure to love God with all one's heart, all one's mind and all one's soul; to him it was the middle sin, the only one characterized by an absence or insufficiency of love.
Despair describes a feeling of dissatisfaction or discontent, which causes unhappiness with one's current situation. Since unhappiness inherently results from the sin, the sin was sometimes referred to as sadness.”
I understand how sadness can interfere with one’s ability to connect with God in prayer, but is it really a sin? In my own experience sadness has brought me closer to God, that in those moments of lowliness, God is able to show himself to me. If someone were lost in the pits of despair, is it really their fault and can they just decide to not be sad anymore? The condition of a person’s soul is complex and being human, the hurtful things that we experience may take a while to heal. Someone who has experienced an unfortunate tragedy who finds themselves lost in grief and becomes depressed, is it a sin or is it an opportunity to invite God in? We should never have too much of one thing in our lives, and maybe the point that Thomas Aquinas was getting at is to not let sadness take over our lives. I believe we need sorrow in our lives to make us appreciate the joyful moments. Sorrow can be a blessing, not a sin. If life was full of happiness, why would we want to leave our earthly home for our eternal home? We need sorrow in order to draw ourselves into the arms of God.

Thy Word is a Lamp unto my feet and a Light unto my Path – Psalm 119:105

Last night I decided to go for a short walk but something pushed me to go a bit further than I had planned. As I kept going I passed a friend’s house (she plays the guitar in the church I cantor in). Again, I felt that gravitational pull so I turned and walked up her driveway. She was sat in her car crying for a friend that isn’t expected to make it through the weekend. I sat with her for a while and spent some time talking with her at her kitchen table. She said she had prayed for a friend to be with her, that she asked for an angel and I showed up. I’m far from an angel but I believe God led me to be with her in her time of grief. Yesterday I was feeling sad and I prayed to God for some reassurance and comfort, my friend told me she waited thirty five years to meet her husband and that good things come to those who wait. She also told me before she met her husband; an elderly neighbor came by and told her she had a message from God that she would meet her husband in six months – and it happened!! My experience last night was an example of serendipity, I was praying for reassurance from God and my friend’s story comforted me in the loneliness I felt yesterday and at the same time I was present to my friend in her sadness . It’s amazing what can happen when you let the current of God’s spirit bring you to new shores of hope…