It takes my breath away

{I am not entirely sure what this post is. It all just came to me the night I wrote it, and for some reason I feel like sharing it.}

My journey home to the Church was astonishingly smooth, even easy, once all the gears clicked into place and the movement really began -- God had paved the way for me for years, slowly preparing me for Truth, for Himself. And so many of the common struggles or obstacles to acceptance of the Church's Truth I just did not have. It was all deliciously and mysteriously True; for some things, an answer at long last, for others, an answer I had never sought, but made perfect sense, and awakened a thirst in me that never subsided. On those things that surprised me in my own uneasiness, I never doubted their truth or the Church's wisdom, only knew that there was something in me that needed teaching, healing, or awakening, which continues to this day, and is in the "littler" details of spirituality, for the most part. God always sends just what I need, when I need it and when I am ready for it, to illuminate some aspect of Truth for me that I hadn't seen so clearly before or even avoided facing. So often His Truth and Love lay bare some truth about ourselves we don't want to face or deal with or see. But once the unpleasantness, discomfort, or pain has passed, a peace comes, even delight! Oh yes, even delight as you exult, wonderstruck, in the sweetness and sheer deliciousness of this new-found Truth. Yes, your soul has grown and been transformed just a little bit more in Christ.

My journey into the Church has been and always will be a kind of Dance, learning to follow His lead, to not push or pull away or force my will, or drag my feet -- a dance into the grace and piercing Beauty of God as manifest in His Creation and in His Church. To dance with the rhythm of the Earth's seasons and the Church's seasons, to dance to all the beauty of the treasure chest He's given us, to revel and exult in all therein. Sometimes I feel like it is a perpetual discovery of beauty and loveliness and grace and hope and love. There is always something new to nourish and feed my soul, to heal my wounds, to startle me out of complacency or apathy or laziness. There is never a lack of ways He stirs and awakens the yearning inside me again. I look back to just a few years ago, and marvel at how even then I felt awestruck at all that had been given me, and wondered at how I could possibly go "any deeper" than I already had, to know more beauty than this, to go even deeper into the love of God, to be even closer to Our Lady. Yet I was taken deeper! And how. It takes my breath away even now at the thought that there could possibly be more -- more beauty, more love, more depth to all this, more to wonder at, more than what has already been given to me?! And yet that is the astonishing reality. There will always be more.

He sings a love song to me in my sleep and whispers invitations to trust and holy, wild abandonment. His eyes draw me to Him in longing, but I am driven away by my fear, distrust, and awareness of my sinfulness and weakness. Yet, like the poem, He only draws closer to me, sweetly asking if I need anything. "Who made the eyes but I?" He asks, the infinity of love in His eyes haunting me in my dreams, a gentle Presence throughout the day that begs my attention, to be present to His Presence, too.

Christ asks for a home in your soul, where He can be at rest with you, where He can talk easily to you, where you and He, alone together, can laugh and be silent and be delighted with one another. ~ Caryll Houselander

God desires nearness. He would like to be with you to the end of the world. He is a beggar for your love. ~ Fr. Hans Urs von Balthasar

Our Saviour says: "Go into your room and pray," but by 'room' you must understand, not a room enclosed by walls that imprison your body, but the room that is within you, the room where you hide your thoughts, where you keep your affections. This room of prayer is always with you, wherever you are, and it is always a secret room, where only God can see you. ~ Saint Ambrose

Sometimes it comes to me, through some echo of the Beauty, some glimpse out of the corner of my eyes, a reflection as in a mirror, when the infinite reverberates inside me, a hint of a Voice that calls my name -- and then this ache, the ache that fills my whole being -- swelling up into tears and trembles and shivers throughout my body. It hits me with a gasp. Ache is so feeble a word for something so intense and deep, extending into the very recesses of my heart and soul, reaching out towards the infinite. It's an ineffable, inexpressible ache, ache, ache, ache! Words are suddenly burdensome and clumsy (though it is often then that a rush of words will descend upon me). There is no earthly way this will be completely translated into human language -- so small, so limited, so narrow -- how could it possibly enclose and express something of the Infinite and Uncontainable? Only with hints and shadows and flickers of the fullness of the reality. It is then that I long for someone, somebody to hold me close to their own heart in my aching, to shelter me in my sudden vulnerability to the expanse of this wide and wonder-full Cosmos --- yet I scarcely ever speak of this to anyone. Yes, in bits and pieces like here, but in those actual moments, I am alone in my humanness. I don't even mention it to my parents, the longing, how could I possibly make myself so painfully vulnerable, even to them whom I know love me so, so much? No, no...I can't even try to explain it to them. Not in full, not when it so evades capture by words. I need someone who already knows and can share the ache with me, and wrapped in embrace together, breathing together, hands pressed together, ache together, not needing words or speech, to be able to weep openly and freely when we have been pierced so deeply with such acute awareness of our exile, for a simple glance into each other's eyes to know that the other knows. Oh yes, they know. And for that to be enough.

This --- oh, this! I long for this, to have a companion in this life, a true companion on my spiritual journey, a fellow pilgrim. Not just a friend, though I cherish dearly all whom I have, and are fellow pilgrims -- brothers, sisters -- in their own beautiful way, but my soulmate, my life's helpmate. Where, oh where, my Lord, is he? Where is the human heart who knows this ache that flows in my blood and dwells deep in my bones, whose heart was made to beat next to mine in this life? He who will help me stand when I stumble or fall, who will love me in my weakness and imperfection, and for whom I can do the same? He my appointed companion on the journey home to You.

For so long have I felt this strange lack, like something is missing, and the separate ache of not having those eyes to look into that reflect a heart that knows and understands. Long have I sojourned in this my desert. I am a perpetual unrequited look of recognition.

Wounded by Beauty. I am irrevocably wounded by Beauty. And oh, what an exquisite pain it is! I need a man who is as intoxicated by Beauty as I am. Who positively craves it and longs to swim in it, drink it in, sinking ever deeper into it, or rather, Him, He who is Beauty -- He who Is. Beauty is Truth is Goodness is Love is Life. I want to dive with him into the Beauty of God's Love and never resurface. To swim with him where the water is sweet and the brightness of the Sun doesn't blind. For our souls to be intertwined and bound together, for thoughts and hopes and pains and heartbeats and breaths and flesh and lips and hands to be woven together -- And twain shall become one flesh. To be joined in communion with him and to learn communion with him. To be drawn out of our isolation into communion, for a glimpse of that ultimate consummation for which we were created. For love to grow betwixt us and within us; love is always creative: to gaze upon our love and learning-love embodied and new and astonishing.

We are like fish on the land, gasping for the water which is our breath, yet so terribly unaware we are even gasping, dying. And so I walk to the shore of His River, the unending abyss of the Sea of His Love, and all the while I had been dying unknowingly, starved for Beauty, starved for Truth, starved for Love, the currents of this sweet Water pull me in, and suddenly I am drowning in Beauty. For so long have we been dying, suffocating little fish on land, that when life floods us, we are bewildered and think then that this is death, and insanely fight to swim to the surface, back to the barren land of death that we had grown so accustomed to. Darkness seemed as light, lies seemed as truth, death seemed as life. But in swimming, in fighting, we suddenly realize we've been plunged into life. As we slowly allow ourselves to become more and more alive, we become drunk on this Water of Life, and beg to be pulled ever deeper into its depths, to sink more and more into its wondrousness and deliciousness. Life, we cry! Awash in the stories redemption sings, we are astonished at the blood now flooding our veins, at our hearts which beat ever stronger. Where we had only bitter emptiness now overflows with grace's fruitful abundance. We thirst with an insatiable thirst for more. The thirst for this Beauty is never fully quenched.
There is always more.

The Three in One and One in Three

Sunday was the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, belief in Whom is the foundation of our Faith. It was also Father's Day in America, which I think is truly fitting, considering the father of a family should model the love of our Heavenly Father, and together with the mother should model the love that is the Trinity to their children. Indeed, marriage and the family itself is an icon of the Trinity, imaging to the world the Trinitarian communion of love, through the love of husband and wife that is incarnated, embodied, in their children. I posted some excellent links on the day on Facebook, I highly recommend them. One is Fr. Robert Barron offering a stirring homily;

God is Trinity. He is fundamentally a relationship: a lover, a beloved and the love between them. In other words, God is a complete openness and receptivity to the other. He is love. Now, we believe we are made in the image of God. Thus, we become fully alive to the degree that we imitate God.

In another, Deacon Mike Bickerstaff offers an excellent primer, 'The Inner Life of God', on this Mystery of our Faith, including the actual 'definition' of the Trinity, and connects it to each of us as made in His image:

Man and woman were created in the image and likeness of God. Although we may lose the likeness of God by sin, we never forfeit the image. Thus, in learning about God and coming to better know who He is through the doctrine of the Trinity, we learn something about ourselves. We were not made to be solitary beings; we were made to be in community. We were created to live and love as God does.

And from the blog The Christocentric Life comes another beautiful meditation on what the Trinity means for us and our lives:

We are born in relationship with the Blessed Trinity. We have the gift of life because the Triune Community of Love breathed life into us. Stop for a minute. Meditate upon the model of perfect love and unity given to us by the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This unending union of love, beauty, joy and wisdom is the reason we exist. We are made by, and made for, unity and love. What will happen if we begin to live this Trinitarian vision? Jesus says that if we do then "...they also may be in them, so that the world may believe that You have sent me." We will show Jesus to the world in how we love one another.

Also from the blog Beginning to Pray, we find another post on the Trinity and specifically the thoughts of Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity, and how we ought to approach prayer. Simply, humbly...if you struggle with praying, read this!

...we only become most fully the creature we are predestined to be in Christ through completely entering into this mystery and allowing God to enter into us. The Three in One and One in Three is our true home, the fulfillment of all desire, our inheritance with the saints, the Abyss of Mercy, the Furnace of Love, our heavenly homeland.

I hope you go and read and listen to each one I just shared, but what I want to share with you here is the beautiful prayer that this Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity, a French Carmelite nun who died at the young age of 26, composed. It is now beloved and prayed around the world, and we are each invited to make it our own. Some pray it each day; perhaps I should start doing that, too... what graces lie in wait for those who pray and meditate on these words each day, I am sure!

O my God, Trinity whom I adore; help me to forget myself entirely that I may be established in You as still and as peaceful as if my soul were already in eternity. May nothing trouble my peace or make me leave You, O my Unchanging One, but may each minute carry me further into the depths of Your mystery. Give peace to my soul; make it Your heaven, Your beloved dwelling and Your resting place. May I never leave You there alone but be wholly present, my faith wholly vigilant, wholly adoring, and wholly surrendered to Your creative Action.

O my beloved Christ, crucified by love, I wish to be a bride for Your Heart; I wish to cover You with glory; I wish to love You...even unto death! But I feel my weakness, and I ask You to "clothe me with Yourself," to identify my soul with all the movements of Your Soul, to overwhelm me, to possess me, to substitute yourself for me that my life may be but a radiance of Your Life. Come into me as Adorer, as Restorer, as Savior.

O Eternal Word, Word of my God, I want to spend my life in listening to You, to become wholly teachable that I may learn all from You. Then, through all nights, all voids, all helplessness, I want to gaze on You always and remain in Your great light. O my beloved Star, so fascinate me that I may not withdraw from Your radiance.

O consuming Fire, Spirit of Love, "come upon me," and create in my soul a kind of incarnation of the Word: that I may be another humanity for Him in which He can renew His whole Mystery.

And You, O Father, bend lovingly over Your poor little creature; "cover her with Your shadow," seeing in her only the "Beloved in whom You are well pleased."

O my Three, my All, my Beatitude, infinite Solitude, Immensity in which I lose myself, I surrender myself to You as Your prey. Bury Yourself in me that I may bury myself in You until I depart to contemplate in Your light the abyss of Your greatness.

And in the original French:

O mon Dieu, Trinité que j'adore, aidez-moi à m'oublier entièrement pour m'établir en vous, immobile et paisible comme si déjà mon âme était dans l'éternité! Que rien ne puisse troubler ma paix ni me faire sortir de Vous, ô mon Immuable, mais que chaque minute m'emporte plus loin dans la profondeur de votre Mystère. Pacifiez mon âme, faites-en votre ciel, votre demeure aimée et le lieu de votre repos; que je ne vous y laisse jamais seul, mais que je sois là tout entière, tout éveillée en ma foi, tout adorante, toute livrée à votre action créatrice.

O mon Christ aimé crucifié par amour, je voudrais être une épouse pour votre cœur; je voudrais vous couvrir de gloire, je voudrais vous aimer...jusqu'à en mourir! Mais je sens mon impuissance et je Vous demande de me revêtir de Vous-même, d'identifier mon âme à tous les mouvements de votre Âme; de me submerger, de m'envahir, de Vous substituer à moi, afin que ma vie ne soit qu'un rayonnement de votre Vie. Venez en moi comme Adorateur, comme Réparateur et comme Sauveur.

O Verbe éternel, parole de mon Dieu, je veux passer ma vie à Vous écouter, je veux me faire tout enseignable afin d'apprendre tout de Vous; puis, à travers toutes les nuits, tous les vides, toutes les impuissances, je veux vous fixer toujours et demeurer sous votre grande lumière. O mon Astre aimé, fascinez-moi pour que je ne puisse plus sortir de votre rayonnement.

O Feu consumant, Esprit d'amour, survenez en moi afin qu'il se fasse en mon âme comme une incarnation du Verbe; que je Lui sois une humanité de surcroît, en laquelle il renouvelle tout son mystère.

Et vous, ô Père, penchez-Vous vers votre pauvre petite créature, ne voyez en elle que le Bien-aimé en lequel Vous avez mis toutes vos complaisances.

O mes Trois, mon Tout, ma Béatitude, Solitude infinie, Immensité où je me perds, je me livre à Vous comme une proie; ensevelissez-vous en moi, pour que je m'ensevelisse en Vous, en attendant d'aller contempler en votre lumière l'abîme de vos grandeurs.

Blessings to everyone on this Father's Day -- may St. Joseph pray and intercede for and protect all fathers, biological and spiritual, today and always; and may the beauty and love of the Holy Trinity -- our Creator, our God, Infinite Love Who Loves us Infinitely -- dwell in your hearts always, leading you ever nearer to communion with and union in Him.

The universe of the other

Pope Benedict recently gave an address to the John Paul II Institute for Studies on Marriage and the Family. It is absolutely beautiful! So I am excerpting a part of it here, hoping it will get you to read the whole thing. Though I must say it is hard to not just quote all of it! ;)

The body speaks to us of an origin that we did not confer on ourselves. “You knit me together in my mother’s womb,” the Psalmist of the Lord says (Psalm 139:13). We can say that the body, in revealing the Origin to us, bears in itself a filial meaning, because it reminds us of our generation, that derives, through our parents who transmitted life to us, from God the Creator. Only when he recognizes the originary love that gave him life, can man accept himself, can he reconcile himself with nature and the world. Following that of Adam is the creation of Eve. The flesh, received from God, is called to render possible the union of love between man and woman and to transmit life. The bodies of Adam and Eve, before the Fall, appear in perfect harmony. There is a language in them that they did not create, an eros rooted in their nature, that invites them mutually to receive themselves from the Creator, to be able thus to give themselves.

So, we understand that in love man is “re-created.” “Incipit vita nova,” Dante said (“Vita Nuova I, 1) -- “the new life begins” -- the life of the new union of the two in one flesh. The true appeal of sexuality is born from the greatness of this horizon that discloses integral beauty, the universe of the other person and the “we” that is born in the union, the promise of the communion that is hidden there, the new fruitfulness, the path that love opens to God, font of love. The union of one flesh is thus made a union for life so that man and woman also become one spirit. In this way a path is opened in which the body teaches us the value of time, of the slow maturation in love. In this light the virtue of chastity receives a new meaning. It is not a “no” to pleasures and to the joy of life, but the great “yes” to love as profound communication between persons, that requires time and respect, as a journey together toward fullness and as love that becomes able to generate life and generously welcome the new life that is born.

This is just a small taste of the richness of what our Papa Benedetto has said. So go on already and read the whole thing! You won't be disappointed. It is truly a profound and thought-provoking reflection on the goodness and beauty with which our bodies -- with which we ourselves-- have been made, and the meaning it then gives to being human. Deo gratias! There is much to chew on here. I'd love to hear which parts particularly struck you, so feel free to comment! :)

Why We Need Jane Austen

This is so awesome I just had to share it.

Why We Need Jane Austen, or How to be a Gentleman with Examples Good and Bad

A couple quotes to interest you in reading it (it isn't long at all):

I want to suggest that Austen provides something for which young people—even the jaded ones—secretly long. While the world she depicts is in many ways foreign to us, it is only just different enough to bring our own pathologies into clearer relief. In short, Austen reminds us of the largely forgotten categories of the lady and the gentleman. It is her genius to make us aspire to these roles even in a world where such notions are strange and often ridiculed.

.....

Austen teaches her readers the nobility of restraint, the goodness of decorum, and that sexuality is a wonderful mystery within the context of a marriage founded on both love and good sense. That is a lesson every generation ignores at its own peril.

Love is not loved

Forgive me for my gross neglect of blogging, again. And not only that, I have neglected to post anything for Lent, the Annunciation, Holy Week...yup. :( I am sorry.

I have shared some things on Facebook in the past couple days that may be of interest. For my last-hour Good Friday post, however, I shall just share a picture and a quote.


This is a picture by Russian artist Viktor Mikhailovich Vasnetsov...I do not know what it is called, and I would love to know if there is a completed version of this sketch. (You should be able to click on it to make it bigger.)

At any rate, when I first stumbled across this, I must have gasped softly. There is something so clear, so startling, and so haunting about this picture of Our Lord, depicted in the manner commonly known as 'Ecce Homo' - Behold the Man. There is some soft, deep, ache in His eyes that makes it hard for me to look at, the blood from the crown of thorns dripping down His face. Have I done this? Yes, yes, I have. Through all my sins, my iniquities, my countless infidelities: here is the Bridegroom whom I spit upon, here is the Husband from whose love I turn away! "Love is not loved!" cried St. Francis of Assisi. Love is not loved.

O Lord, my God, have mercy on me, a sinner! Only with your Blood poured out will my sin-inflicted bleeding wounds -in heart, mind, soul, and flesh- be healed. Oh, I need You now, more than ever before....

I ask you, readers who may come here tonight or tomorrow, to gaze upon this Face, this Holy Face of our Redeemer, and ponder these words that struck me also this morning (emphasis mine):

"Look, look on Jesus, poor and crucified, look on this Holy One, who for your love has died, and remember as you contemplate the sacred mysteries, this Jesus whom you gaze upon loves you most tenderly."

~ St. Clare of Assisi

We join in the singing of all the centuries

Hello, everyone! It's early on Christmas morning, and I should be in bed! Went to a lovely Midnight Mass tonight to welcome our Saviour into the world. Rejoice! Our King has come!

He whom the entire universe could not contain was contained within your womb, O Theotokos.

Madonna of the Rose Bower, by Stefan Lochner, circa 1440-42

Before I go to bed, I'd like to offer for your Christmas reading our dear Pope Benedict's Midnight Mass homily for this year. The full text can be found here. It is truly excellent, and I highly recommend you to read it!

An excerpt: (so hard to pick what to quote!)

Saint Luke does not say that the angels sang. He states quite soberly: the heavenly host praised God and said: “Glory to God in the highest” (Lk 2:13f.). But men have always known that the speech of angels is different from human speech, and that above all on this night of joyful proclamation it was in song that they extolled God’s heavenly glory. So this angelic song has been recognized from the earliest days as music proceeding from God, indeed, as an invitation to join in the singing with hearts filled with joy at the fact that we are loved by God. Cantare amantis est, says Saint Augustine: singing belongs to one who loves. Thus, down the centuries, the angels’ song has again and again become a song of love and joy, a song of those who love. At this hour, full of thankfulness, we join in the singing of all the centuries, singing that unites heaven and earth, angels and men. Yes, indeed, we praise You for Your glory. We praise You for Your love. Grant that we may join with You in love more and more, and thus become people of peace. Amen.

*Theotokos is Greek for "God-bearer," the first and foremost title for Mary. Essentially equivalent to the Latin title of Mater Dei -- Mother of God.

Did we forget what it means to be human?

By some stroke of luck, I managed to win a free DVD of The Human Experience, by Grassroots Films. It was being offered through the Catholic young women's magazine Radiant. :)

The contest only required you to watch the trailer and post your response/thoughts on Radiant's Facebook wall. I caught the giveaway in the nick of time (last day)....and won!!! Still can't believe it. Well, I got the DVD in the mail today! So excited to FINALLY be able to watch it. I have known about this film since around 2008. Just the trailer alone has the ability to make me cry. SO beautiful. It has won over 30 awards and film festival honors. Over 30!! And because of that, and because I think more people should know about this film and watch it, etc-- I am sharing the trailer with you. There's actually two of them. I will share the longer, "main" trailer first. ^_^ Please tell me your thoughts on it!



And here is the teaser-trailer, also beautiful and has different footage from the longer one. :)

I can't take it in. (It couldn't be anymore beautiful.)

So.....yes, I know it's been months since last I posted. :/ I've just gotten busy, and yes, a lot has happened. Switchfoot concert, school (which, btw, is more than halfway through 1st semester already), so many feast days, my 20th birthday, the list goes on.... sigh.

Anyway, my apologies, I do have a very long post for you today, consisting entirely of writing. :P

I wrote it in the wee hours of the morning on Saturday, which I guess is still today, lol. I first posted it on Facebook, so for those of you who'd rather comment there, feel free. :) Thank you to everyone who has already commented there. Here goes....
_________________________

I want to live.

I mean live.

I am so tired of most of my dearest friends being so far away from me, with the only means of contact being chiefly the computer I am currently writing on. Yes, there are physical letters and phone calls, a step in the right direction, to be sure...and perhaps if I were more faithful in my letter-writing (ahem) I would find more solace in their tangibility, as with hearing your sweet voices.

But I am so tired of not living.

I want to love my friends (and family) in the here and now, in flesh and blood, with eyes to look into, hands to hold, voices to hear, presences to surround me.

I want to... get physical. Seriously - I want to get off this accursed machine and live life out in God's glorious Creation, so why does He have to keep blessing me so darn much with the internet? As much as it can be a problem....I have been so, so blessed through it. And even that is an understatement. Words could not even begin to express all that has been given me through this strange thing called the Internet. I have grown by leaps and bounds, I have become more me, I have laughed, loved, cried, learned, pondered...

So much music. So much that I have read, and grown by. So many friends!! And practically all I know (and love) about my Faith. I could go on forever. In so many ways, this truly is a miracle. And yet....

Curse it all, I want to live! I want to get my hands dirty in the wet spring earth, like Mary, Colin, and Dickon in the garden. I want to sew and sew all the clothes I drool over, feeling all the lush fabrics run through my fingers. I want to feel bread dough between my fingers, sticky-soft, while I knead, push, pull. I want to feel grass beneath my feet. Wind in my hair. I want to feel the rain on my skin, snow on my tongue. I want to feel fire's flickering heat. I want to marvel at rainbows and moonbows, to gaze up at the starry night sky. I want to dwell in blessed solitude, I want to dwell in communion with humanity. I want to be flesh and blood, because that is what I am. A flesh-and-blood, heart-and-soul human being. And I want to live. I want to be vibrantly, painfully alive.

I am tired of feeling apathetic and numb to things I should care about. I want to feel deeply. I want to look upon my Lord on the Cross, and weep. I want to be profoundly moved at Holy Mass; I want to be simply graced at Holy Mass. I want to love even when I don't feel.

I want to bless each and every thing.

I want a flesh and blood man to love, a man of God who will cherish me for all his days, and lay down his life for me. I want to be his soulmate and his helpmate, and he mine.

I want to labor in all the earthy physicality of bearing children, of giving birth to new life. I want to scream in agony and then experience the euphoria of holding my baby in my arms for the first time, forgetting any pain.

I want to journey through the precious, most beautiful, most noble task that is teaching Truth to new human beings. Of passing on the beauty of life to my children. Of teaching them to love and serve God.

I want to exult in all that is the messy, beautiful, glorious, painful thing we call Life.

I want to cry. I want to laugh. I want to sing. I want to dance. I want to write. I want to create. I want to pray. I want to love.

I want to live.

How can I divorce myself from all the queer artificiality that is this online world that has nevertheless enriched me so much? I will never be able to bring all my friends together in one place. Sometimes I feel so confused and conflicted....

And yet, for all this longing for Life, I know in my heart I will never receive it fully. Not yet. Not in this life.

And that....that is perhaps the bitterest chalice for me to drink from. For I long for nothing less than to be fully aware of life while I am living it. But as human beings, fallen, broken, imperfect, incomplete -- we cannot yet have this. Only in glimpses, tantalizing flashes, the briefest of tastes.

And I weep.

Essentially, I am longing for Heaven, for complete and utter communion, union, and life with and in God. I long to dwell in the Eternal Present with God.

We cannot be so aware all the time. It is humanly impossible. And I am learning to accept this. That all I long for, all that I have said, and all that I have not said here, is only to be found in its completion in the next life, when at last we will begin to fully live. "I don't belong here..." I am learning to drink to the dregs this bitter cup of Not Yet.

"God is at home," says Meister Eckhart, "We are in the far country."

From Thornton Wilder's play 'Our Town':

Emily: Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it -- every, every minute?

Stage Manager: No.

Saints and poets, maybe -- they do some.

My mother says it is the poet in me - the artist - that experiences those moments where I feel removed from whatever is happening, almost as if I were "watching" it, but not quite...I am still there, in the moment, but my awareness is elsewhere....it is my human limitations that prevent me from being both in that elsewhere, observing and seeing it in the context of Time, etc, but also being fully in the moment, living it...

I have encountered confusion from some people when I say things like "Every joyful moment is bittersweet."

But it is. Every joy, every beauty, is bittersweet.

Sweet, for obvious reasons.

Bitter, because it will end, and not return. Time, that horrid Thief, the clock keeps ticking...yet it is that same Time that gives the urgency to our lives. It will not last. "Life is short. Like a gunshot, and it's over. Live it well."

I am reminded specifically of choir concerts in high school -- how it was thrilling and wondrous to be in the moment, singing those glorious songs, to be "one" -- if but for a little while. Yet, once that concert was over, that moment could never come back. That time had passed. It was gone. It cannot be repeated. Bitter, and sweet, at the same time.

That is how I experience every joy. With the confounded awareness of how fleeting it all is.

And then, just as quickly as I enter that stream of awareness, I slip back into taking it all for granted again.

"They do some."

Sometimes I really hate it, as it prevents me from ever feeling just in the moment without going off into Elsewhere Awareness of the moment. It is a gift, but I must learn how to "wield" it. I need to learn how to channel it properly, so that it does not take away from life's dear moments, but only enriches my life. Oh, God, how can I temper this??

Ahhhh, life is truly bittersweet! I rejoice to know that "Nothing of what is is lost. It is not lost to God, nor to us."

And so, part of being gifted with this poet's soul are these little glimpses into truly living, of being truly aware. Of all the pain, and all the beauty, of all the terrible brevity of life on earth. I have moments where I feel connected to all that lives, to God within and without...and then, it is gone. Oh, must You torment me so? What a cross to bear.

And not just to bear, but to be crucified with.

More and more, I am seeing that God is guiding me to trust in Him, to release my attachments to the earthly things I love, that while good and worthy, are not the Ultimate Good, and will not last, nor could they ever be my Anchor in such a chaotic world. And so He wrests from my embrace dear friends, beloved animal family members, beloved teachers.....and not without kicking and screaming and crying on my part. What will it take for me to trust in You, and You alone? Oh, how far I have to go...

Emily:

I can't. I can't go on. It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another.

I didn't realize. So all that was going on and we never noticed. Take me back---up the hill---to my grave. But first: Wait! One more look.

Good-bye, Good-bye world. Good-bye, Grover's Corners ... Mama and Papa. Good-bye to clocks ticking ... and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths ... and sleeping and waking up. Oh, Earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you!

Oh, God, that just hurts for me to read, and makes me want to cry. An exquisite sort of pain that both wounds and heals.

I have already written about this before, using these same Our Town quotes. I keep coming back to this in my heart. Over and over again. Will it always be so?

I am still learning. I am still growing. I am still fighting - both against all that keeps me from God, and even, in my sinfulness, against God Himself. I am a mixture of light and dark. I am a seed in the dark earth fighting her way to the light, yearning to unfurl her leaves and blossom. I am a caterpillar stuck in her chrysalis, waiting, waiting, waiting for when she will be ready to burst forth with wet wings, ready to fly. I am a baby in darkened womb, growing, becoming, totally unaware of how, when I get too big for that space, I will have to go through a painful birth into the light...

In spite of the fact that I will never attain to all that I long for in this life, no matter that it will always come intermittently, and has to be learned, cultivated: I will live. With baby steps, unsure and wobbly, I will learn to walk into my Father's arms. I will learn to let Him carry me, and not have to "do it all myself." I will trust - and not worry myself to literal death. I will bury my face in my Mother's sweet, starry Mantle, and hear her Heart beat the rhythm of love to me...the same melody that sounds from my Beloved's Sacred Heart, the Song of salvation. I will learn to let Him kiss me, to let Him love me, and not run away like some frightened creature. No - He is Love itself, what have I to fear? The utter assimilation of all that I am into Himself? Of being nailed to the Cross with Him, dying? -- but then rising with Him to all life and light? Oh, fickle heart of mine, when will you learn to love?!

I will do all I can to live. I will live in graced moments. I will praise God in times of sorrow and times of joy. I will adore Him in each season. I will take baby steps to living out the theology of the body in my each and every day - in relation to other human beings, to the Earth, and to my God. To live and love in my body and in my soul.

I will learn to unite my eros with God's agape, and thus love with a fuller love than either alone could be for me, to love with a love akin to God's passionate selfless love.

First, there is a certain relationship between love and the Divine: love promises infinity, eternity—a reality far greater and totally other than our everyday existence. Yet we have also seen that the way to attain this goal is not simply by submitting to instinct. Purification and growth in maturity are called for; and these also pass through the path of renunciation. Far from rejecting or “poisoning” eros, they heal it and restore its true grandeur.

This is due first and foremost to the fact that man is a being made up of body and soul. Man is truly himself when his body and soul are intimately united; the challenge of eros can be said to be truly overcome when this unification is achieved. Should he aspire to be pure spirit and to reject the flesh as pertaining to his animal nature alone, then spirit and body would both lose their dignity. On the other hand, should he deny the spirit and consider matter, the body, as the only reality, he would likewise lose his greatness. The epicure Gassendi used to offer Descartes the humorous greeting: “O Soul!” And Descartes would reply: “O Flesh!”. Yet it is neither the spirit alone nor the body alone that loves: it is man, the person, a unified creature composed of body and soul, who loves. Only when both dimensions are truly united, does man attain his full stature. Only thus is love —eros—able to mature and attain its authentic grandeur.

-- from Pope Benedict's encyclical, Deus Caritas Est

I will learn to let go ("Daisy, let it go..." ) all of the passing things of this life, no matter how lovely. And then I will finally be able to truly appreciate them.

And so, too, as regards this world, with all its enjoyments, yet disappointments. Let us not trust it; let us not give our hearts to it; let us not begin with it. Let us begin with faith; let us begin with Christ; let us begin with His Cross and the humiliation to which it leads. Let us first be drawn to Him who is lifted up, that so He may, with Himself, freely give us all things. Let us “seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness,” and then all those things of this world “will be added to us.” They alone are able truly to enjoy this world, who begin with the world unseen. They alone enjoy it, who have first abstained from it. They alone can truly feast, who have first fasted; they alone are able to use the world, who have learned not to abuse it; they alone inherit it, who take it as a shadow of the world to come, and who for that world to come relinquish it.

--- Blessed John Henry Cardinal Newman

I will learn to not loathe myself for all my shortcomings, to not look upon myself with hatred for all my failings, sins, and weaknesses. I will learn to rush to the fount of God's mercy. I will learn to pick myself up off the floor, or at least start to and let Him lift me. I will learn to let the fire of His love burn away all the dross from my soul. I will learn to let Him rip my dragon-scales off me. I will learn to let Him, Lion of Judah, lick me clean.

My task is learning how to live. And learning how to die. If we learn how to die, we learn how to live.

I want to burn out bright. I want to suck all the marrow out of life. I want to reach my deathbed with every drop of life and love poured out of me. Oh, God, I want to love! I want to live. And so teach me to die with You. Hide me in Your wounds.

Guide me on the way of love. Let me not run from love any longer, and all it asks of me - self-denial, temperance, trust, courage, sacrifice, self-donation.

I want to love. I want to live.

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken," said C.S. Lewis.

And so I set about preparing the ground of my soul to be (not so easily) broken, that love may grow and take root there.

Life is so short, live it well. I ask you to join me, as we step into the great Unknown and live life, as much as we can, in all our flesh-and-blood-and-heart-and-soul-ness. I refuse to be swept away by the floods of Nothingness and No-thing. I will dare to dwell in the mystery and the darkness and the pain and light-haunted shadows, and dare to dance all aflame with God's love in the vibrant and colorful, mere shadows-of-the-world-to-come, exhilarating, aching, weary, quiet, loud, everyday, ordinary, extraordinary Life.



All our life is a journey toward God

Hi, everyone. :) Yes, I know it's been over a month since I posted anything here. I'm sorry about that. :/ It's not that I had nothing to share or write about, just that I sort of ...didn't. I don't know. xD Lack of time and motivation, perhaps. But now I'm back. I will try to keep up!

Anyway, I've been wanting to share this for a while now, and I think it's high time I do! Back in February, the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist, an order of nuns in Ann Arbor, Michigan, were featured on Oprah! Shocking, I know. ;) I think it was a lovely show, and so very much needed in this day and age. Many of the questions that were asked I think just reflect the common ideas and misconceptions and fears and "important" things of today's world. So it's good they were answered. Answers are needed, and here they were given. :)

I am not much of an Oprah person myself, but I think she was really touched by the sisters' visit. Both she and Lisa seemed amazed at what they learned! No, nuns are not stuffy and lifeless non-humans. xD I greatly admire nuns like these and if I were called to be one, I would certainly follow God's call. (Oh, and FYI- a full habit is a must for me. No silly "religious pins" on street clothes. Either be a nun and be unafraid to proclaim the fact you are a bride of Christ to the world, or don't. No mushy in-between, please. Also of interest is the fact that the orders who do wear full habits are experiencing great growth, mostly young (the sisters' ages), and are thriving. The ones who don't are aging and rapidly ceasing to exist.)

I also must add that I am friends with a girl who is discerning a vocation with these sisters. :) Which I think is very cool! She just finished her sophomore year of college and has chosen to drop out, working for a year, then entering as a postulant. :) Please keep her in your prayers.

Without further ado, the videos:

(Please take the time to watch all four segments. They are not very long at all and well worth your time. Also, sorry for the few places the quality messes up, not sure why it does that.)

Part One
To view Part One, click here. I'm sorry for the trouble!

It seems Harpo (Oprah's company) removed this video from Youtube. I'm keeping the dead link here for proof, lol.
Parts 2, 3, 4 that I posted are still working. :)


Part Two


Part Three


Part Four

As warm as tears

Love's as warm as tears,
Love is tears:
Pressure within the brain,
Tension at the throat,
Deluge, weeks of rain,
Haystacks afloat,
Featureless seas between
Hedges, where once was green.

Love's as fierce as fire,
Love is fire:
All sorts--infernal heat
Clinkered with greed and pride,
Lyric desire, sharp-sweet,
Laughing, even when denied,
And that empyreal flame
Whence all loves came.

Love's as fresh as spring,
Love is spring:
Bird-song hung in the air,
Cool smells in a wood,
Whispering 'Dare! Dare!'
To sap, to blood,
Telling 'Ease, safety, rest,
Are good; not best.'

Love's as hard as nails,
Love is nails:
Blunt, thick, hammered through
The medial nerves of One
Who, having made us, knew
The thing He had done,
seeing (with all that is)
Our cross, and His.

~C.S. Lewis, Poems, (1964)

Grief.

It's been a little more than a week, now, since I learned of Catriona's death. It's not been easy. I haven't cried every day, since I have been trying not to think of her all the time. I know if I did, I'd just start crying again. Last night, earlier today, and a few other nights, though...I have cried a lot. Cried myself to sleep, even. It just hurts. A lot. Not much can be done about that. I would say a few more things about her, about it all, but not right now. I don't feel like crying again right now. sigh.

Maybe later I will.

It just hurts. I miss her so much. And as soon as I wrote that, tears well up...

sigh again.

Thank you for your kind words, and for caring. Your love is as a balm to my wounds. Please keep me and my family in your prayers, still, as we continue to heal and to grieve.

A hole in my heart

Well, I'm home now. I'm glad to be home.
But...

there is a hole in my heart now.

You see, when I got home, I was sat down and gently told that one of our cats had to be put down a week ago.




They didn't tell me right away because they didn't want to distract me from my finals or ruin my end-of-the-year fun last week. My parents were right in not telling me until I got home. I would have been a wreck otherwise, unable to do much of anything, enjoy anything, or find motivation to study or finish that paper.

But ....omg.

I've already cried and cried and cried. No, it's not Wayne, who was very sick earlier this year. This one was completely unexpected. It's Catriona.


Catriona. She had seemed ill, so Daddy took her to the vet. Who told us that he was 98% sure she had a disease, I forget its name, but it's usually inherited at birth, and won't show (if it does) for 6 or so years. And it's fatal. There's no cure.

Catriona was a little more than 6 years old, about.

Oh, my baby, my beautiful baby girl..........!!!!

They had to put her down then because the vet said it was highly likely she could die while my parents were away in Chicago, packing me up to come home. Plus, she would suffer needlessly.


My heart hurts. Oh, my heart hurts. When I say I'm crying right now, I am not kidding. This is literally a nightmare come true. I've had dreams where we've lost one or more of the cats, and more than once I've woken up with my face wet from crying in my sleep.

Only this time, I am awake. And it is not a dream.

Though I keep expecting to see her walk down the hallway, or jump on the kitchen stool, to see her on the sofa, anywhere...somewhere.................how can this be real???


Silver has lost his best friend.

Our little Roly-Poly Girl is gone. (She would roll over on her back when she happy.)

She chirped at the birds out the window the most. No more will I hear that.

No more will I hear her sweet little voice when she meowed, her loud purrs, or do her little "trick" (stand up on her hind legs and jump a little)....

No more will I see her warming herself under a lamp in the living room, or in the sunlight.

No more will she bang open a door to "let" herself in, as if to say "I am HERE." Oh, you funny girl...

No more will I hear her funny-and-annoying, loud, she-demon-cat growl when she felt her "bubble" had been intruded upon.

No more petting her silky soft fur, holding her itty-bitty paws...

No more having her eagerly ask to be brushed if she saw the brush be gotten out.

No more little "conversations" with her...

Oh, my God! Why? Why?

For all the wonderful things this past school year has brought, it sure has been a painful one, too. So many things lost...

And now, my sweet little kitty girl! Oh, these tears are bitter indeed. And these words are so inadequate. So inadequate.

I know Jesus and Mary are delighting in you, little girl. I love you and miss you so much, my beautiful baby kitty girl, Catriona. I wish I could at least have said good-bye and hugged you and told you I loved you one last time. It hurts so much that I didn't get to. But I know you know I love you, and that Daddy and Mama do, too. Give Corie and Lloyd my love for me.

I love you forever. And I will miss you so, so much. <3

Lady Catriona Marie Velvet Grey

August 2003- May 4th, 2010

"Nothing of what is is lost. It is not lost to God, nor to us."

~ from the book Grieving With Grace (quote found online by me several months ago)

in His hand is the soul of every living thing

From the Book of Job, Chapter 12: (KJV)

7 But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee;
and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee:

8 or speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee;
and the fishes of the sea shall declare unto thee.

9 Who knoweth not in all these
that the hand of the LORD hath wrought this?

10 in Whose Hand is the soul of every living thing,
and the breath of all mankind.

11 Doth not the ear try words?
and the mouth taste his meat?

12 With the ancient is wisdom;
and in length of days understanding.

13 With [God] is wisdom and strength,
He hath counsel and understanding.

A power beyond the reach of any magic

I knew I wasn't crazy. I still say that Harry 'saved' my life in 6th grade. Even though eventually, in a weird way, the books became both my healing balm and my poison, overall it was balm more than poison. ^_^

Harry Potter for Fighting Depression

"That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children's tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing. Nothing. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped.”

~ Albus Dumbledore in The Deathly Hallows

Like a sunset dying with the rising of the moon

Just now I thought I would try to listen to "Gone Too Soon" again. Since normally I just can't listen to it.


Well, I didn't make it past the first verse.

It hurts too much. 10 months it's almost been, yet it hurts too much.


The ache sort of wells up inside me and I feel it in my throat....

and the tears form hot and thick in my eyes, roll down my cheeks....


It just hurts too much.


Memories of June, July come flooding back.


Of images and pictures everywhere, and TV specials, of ugly rumors in the tabloids, and heartbreaking scenes from across the globe.


It just hurts too, too much.


Of candles and prayers and tributes, of flowers and teddy bears....of tears and smiles, dancing and singing, arm-in-arm.....

Of 3 little children on a stage, fighting back tears...

Oh, God!


How it hurts.


My heart breaks and bleeds once more.


And I realize that....this will never go away. Not really.


What have we lost? Oh, oh, oh................


It hurts too much.


And so with tear-streaked face I write -

Like a comet blazing 'cross the evening sky

Gone too soon




I love you, Michael. The world misses you. <3

Upon this Rock...

This is so refreshing and lovely after being assaulted with lies and vitriol about our dear Holy Father.

Papa Benedetto, we love you and are praying for you!

Shrouded in tears

Do please read this, I found it especially good. :)

Excerpt:

So what does a “jeweled cross” indicate? It means that the suffering we endure for love has value—and even more so when joined to the salvific work of Christ. His is the cross that gives merit to our pain, and he is the one who shows what love can accomplish.

While we meditate on this truth in Lent, every tragedy, such as the loss of a child, can become its own Lent—of seeming endless duration. Its Easter mysteries may be shrouded in tears, and the victory of love over death may be clouded by the very ache of such love so tinged with fresh sorrow. That is entirely understandable...

"What is the monster we've become?"

And I thought this world was already utterly, utterly insane.

Guess I was wrong. Sorry to be so depressing today, but check this out. [WARNING: Link contains disturbing and graphic details/info.]
THIS. On top of all that is already WRONG with the world, on top of all that is already EVIL. More. More of it. More insanity.

I feel like screaming, and this is one of the very good reasons why God did not endow me with magical powers and a wand to harness it with. I would be too dangerous with them. Case in point -- situations like this. Mercy fades in my heart and I just want JUSTICE DONE NOW. It is only later when I am calmer do I begin to feel such overwhelming sorrow for the people like this. Sometimes I feel a kinship with St. Thérèse and her great desire to save souls. Sometimes I feel that way. This great burden and responsibility and yearning, this need, to reach people and bring them the Light of Christ. They need it so much. This world needs it so much.

I mean, read the comments....someone mentions another HEINOUS Youtube video (I unfortunately know such videos/acts are relatively common) involving cruelty to a helpless animal. GOD, I WANT TO SCREAM AND SHOOT SOMEONE. Or at least ask for another Flood. OMG. I FEEL SO FREAKING TICKED OFF RIGHT NOW.

-_____________-


Oh, my God, what have we done?!?!!!!!!!!!!!!!???????????

WHAT ARE WE DOING??!!!??!!??????????????????????


Oh, Mary, Mary, Light in All Darkness and Mother of Hope - PRAY FOR US.


Everyone just pray. And fight. We are in a war. Father Phillips, at church, wasn't kidding when he said we are living in a New Age of Martyrdom.

Martyrdom takes many forms, and though right now it may not look like the Age of Martyrs in the past, with horrific tortures and executions, if one but looks, you will see how and where the martyrdoms happen. We suffer and are tortured and killed in other ways. But we are on the path back to all-out persecution. Traces of 1984 and suchlike are becoming more apparent every day.........



Oh, God, I'm so scared!

Oh, God, my heart hurts!

Oh, God, I feel so sick!


My God! You ask us to trust You! How? How?

And yet, still You say - "Fear not, for I am with you always."

"In the end, my Immaculate Heart will triumph."

Oh, Mary, when will that be? I'm starting to wish it. Though I do not wish for the end of this life, I wish for thy triumph. I wish for Christ's reign upon this Earth. Oh.......

It's things like this that cause me to lose hope. But we are never without hope. There is always hope. Always. We must be the ones to keep working, keep fighting, keep living and loving, keep its Flame burning.

"And all that is not well shall be made well."



We live in a very, very sick world. Perhaps sicker than it has EVER been before. We must fight for its soul. We must fight and pray. The Holy Rosary is one of the best 'weapons' we have against evil. Pray it. Pray it. Every day. I confess I don't always. :( But I should. Our Lady asked us to, pleaded us to, at Fatima.


We need the Great Physician now more than ever.



Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us.

He weeps.

Surpassing all we know

I meant to post this yesterday, but forgot. In choir here we are now learning a song I've already sung with my beloved high school Chorale! It was either my sophomore or junior year, I can't remember. Probably junior. The words are so beautiful, I thought I'd share it with you. If ever I can get my hands on our recording of it, I will be sure to share that, too! (I'm pretty sure we did record it.)

Pilgrims' Hymn
Music composed by Stephen Paulus, Text by Michael Dennis Browne

Even before we call on Your name
To ask You, O God,
When we seek for the words to glorify You,
You hear our prayer;
Unceasing love, O unceasing love
Surpassing all we know.

Glory be to the Father,
And to the Son,
And to the Holy Spirit.

Even with darkness sealing us in,
We breathe Your name,
And through all the days that follow so fast,
We trust in You;
Endless Your grace, O endless Your grace,
Beyond all mortal dream.

Both now and forever,
And unto ages and ages,
Amen.

Alone in the stillness

LOBH head-webmistress Jeanna shared this recent interview with Jon Foreman that she found. He has got to be one of my most favorite people on this planet. :)


I feel [God's love] when all the chaos is pushed aside.