So Many Things...

Unlike a lot of bloggers, I am not fasting my blogs for Lent; it's booze. That's difficult for any post-grad person who hangs out on campus, goes to bars, clubs, etc. Yes, for any jaw-droppers out there, I party like that. There's some fun under all this straightlacing!

Sister Joseph Andrew asked me this week for an update on my discernment and about where I am with taking care of my student debt. I do not have a definitive answer for me, for you, or for her; and we all should have a response to the inquiry! I would love to know what God wants to happen.

That being said, I've got a lot of peace around the idea that I am not likely to enter the Dominican Sisters of Mary. I was heartbroken last year when I was accepted and unable to enter, but not this year. This is not resignation, this is an accepting, "Okay, God, if not the DSMME, where? Who?"

No order, as I stand right now, will seriously consider me with debt. So thus far I know that I cannot seriously apply and enter a convent for about 2 years, perhaps 3, considering I ardently desire for my sanity to move out of my parents' house.

So I've got the "when" addressed. As for the where, there are several realizations coming to me, prayerfully of course.

First, I love the DSMME, but I think I was initially drawn to their vitality, youth, and faithfulness to Rome. These are all very lovely things to desire, but a vocational calling they do not make. I liked the idea of teaching, but having used this year to teach Confirmation, I can say I like teaching, but I do not love it. I cannot do it all the time. However teaching Confirmation and being involved with 2 parishes in the area have allowed me to experience retreats. I love helping out with retreats - teaching, coordinating, being in the background, and interceding for the retreatants.

What else do I like and look for in an expression of my faith? Spiritual warfare and intercession finds me; I don't go looking for it. Now, provided some of that is directly related to the fact I live at home and family members invite idolatry and occultic practices in; yet I'm around it even outside of the family house.

Third, I'm not attached to any of the Dominican saints; they are great people and saints, but they are not the ones I call upon. I call upon St Michael, St Joan of Arc, and St Benedict. And this got me to praying and thinking about what I mentioned above in terms of spirituality and warfare, and intercession. It's always been there, it's not going away.

Lastly, at the beginning, and this continues still, my prayer has been to be with Jesus Christ alone. To just be with Him all the days of my life, and nothing else. It's the "nothing else" and "alone" that jumps out at me now. In the previous 3 years of discernment I think I was afraid of monastic and contemplative vocations. I had no idea about them, and I wasn't about to consider them out of fear. Fear? Fear is of the Devil, and it always grips us right when we are about to do something that is perfectly legitimate in the eyes of God (i.e., Confession, speaking out about the Truth). So, maybe it's time to face this old fear head on and look at monastic life, and such.

That's where I'm at.

Buying the Lying

I originally wrote this post for October, Domestic Violence Awareness Month.

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Many lies infect our society today; a good majority of these lies are not special to the 21st Century. Lies great and small, from the whispering voice that says no one will notice if you lift an item from a store, to the larger ones on not being worthy of love and respect. It is not scary that these lies exist, as lies are a sign that there is a truth worthy of attack. What is scarier is the rate and ease which these lies are pronounced and believed.

What happens the first time a lie is heard? It’s countered: That’s not true, and you know it. Come on, you’re better than that! Yet, if the lie is repeated further, we begin to waver. That’s not true, not really. Maybe it’s the truth. I’m not sure. And it is in this wavering that damage begins to be inflicted. Shoulders sag with the weight of worry and doubt. When something is done right, questions are raised. Worth is not seen in the gifts that are brought to other people.

The harm does not end with lies.

Lie breed lies, causing further pain and suffering. Soon enough shoulders sear in pain from blows. A nose drips with blood, and lips swell under force. Hands roughly grab arms, arms shove and fists pommel. I’m scared. I don’t know what to do, he says I’ll regret it if I tell anyone. He said he’d kill my kitty. Mommy hurts me. Maybe it’s true, I am a bitch. I’m a bitch. I am a whore. I am worthless. I should never have been born. I’m good for nothing. I cause all the problems in the house. I’m a painful reminder of all the poor choices she made. The lies are believed, and the actions “are” deserved.

Lies are hidden in the promises. Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s the last time. I promise it won’t happen. I’m sorry, but you made me do it. Hey, kiddo, we’ll get you another puppy. Until the next time.

Is the next time, the last time? No one is better than you. You are strong, capable, smart, and loved. There is no one who should be made to accept blows, punches, insults, humiliation, rape, abuse, spitting, kicking, slapping, bruising, burning, cutting, shoving, neglect, strict financial allowances, and social isolation. That is emptiness and death: death of self and esteem. It saps strength and hope: who would believe you? What did you say? That’s a family matter!

How dare you!

Yes, how dare you! Why did it take me so long to see? It’s okay to cry. It is healthy to be scared, and run from the source of my fear! I’m not a coward for running.

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1−800−799−SAFE (7233)
Report Child Abuse: 1-800-25ABUSE (22873)
Report Elder Abuse: 1-800-252-8966