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Whoever loves becomes humble. Those who love have, so to speak, pawned a part of their narcissism. -- Sigmund Freud
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Oh, to be Heard by my Lord!
I am aching to put my thoughts and feelings into words for you, yet the task lingers before me. Words and sentences fail me – nothing sounds quite right. Perhaps that is fitting?
Love is blind, especially when it comes to us loving Our Lord. We hear our Souls saying stark, simple prayers, then mutter in our beings that surely the Lord will not take our Soul’s groans seriously. Perhaps He thought us just thinking and not praying and requesting that He make us broken, or impoverished, or a Fool for Him.
I knew that I was going to suffer, and that the heartbreak would be beyond anything I could imagine or prepare. I could arm myself with His Armour (Eph. 6), but as I couldn’t imagine, I couldn’t prepare myself further, except through prayer. Thus I chose a prayer:
This prayer to the Five Wounds of Christ had one repeating phrase pleading Momma Mary to take my heart into her holy hands, and present it to our Lord. He was then to say it be done to me, as it was done to Him! My heart was to bear each Wound of His Blessed Flesh, from the nail piercing and bruising from the hammer blows, to the gaping tear of the thrust lance.
And I broke. What else was I to do? I could not fathom praising Him. Why would I want to praise Him for pain? Two months later, I understand that is what I should be doing because I now know with every fiber of my Being that He hears me. What am I that He should listen to me? Listen, He does. It is more than many dare ponder.
Love is blind, especially when it comes to us loving Our Lord. We hear our Souls saying stark, simple prayers, then mutter in our beings that surely the Lord will not take our Soul’s groans seriously. Perhaps He thought us just thinking and not praying and requesting that He make us broken, or impoverished, or a Fool for Him.
I knew that I was going to suffer, and that the heartbreak would be beyond anything I could imagine or prepare. I could arm myself with His Armour (Eph. 6), but as I couldn’t imagine, I couldn’t prepare myself further, except through prayer. Thus I chose a prayer:
Holy Mother, pierce me through, In my heart each wound renew Of my
Saviour crucified. Amen.
This prayer to the Five Wounds of Christ had one repeating phrase pleading Momma Mary to take my heart into her holy hands, and present it to our Lord. He was then to say it be done to me, as it was done to Him! My heart was to bear each Wound of His Blessed Flesh, from the nail piercing and bruising from the hammer blows, to the gaping tear of the thrust lance.
And I broke. What else was I to do? I could not fathom praising Him. Why would I want to praise Him for pain? Two months later, I understand that is what I should be doing because I now know with every fiber of my Being that He hears me. What am I that He should listen to me? Listen, He does. It is more than many dare ponder.
Labels:
dominican,
God,
heard,
Mother of the Eucharist,
Prayer,
Sisters of Mary,
vocation
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
present to the Present
At this evening's bible study session, the organizer, Jonathan, was able to get a local Franciscan priest to come and talk with us. We've always enjoyed the nights that Fr. Kevin comes over because he's funny, but also it's essentially "open mike night." It's our questions, rather than the theological verse-by-verse breakdown of Acts 8; although this is equally fruitful.
There was a good discussion going on homilies, what to expect, how to kindly and politely address issues with priests, pastors, etc. But there was one thing that stuck out to me this evening: "being present to the Present (Presence) in the present." It's being contemplative in action. It's being aware that when you and I speak face to face, Christ is right there with us. Can we shut down Facebook, Blogger, Xanga, LiveJournal, MySpace, LinkedIn, BrightFuse, CareerBuilder, Indeed, Monster, &c for just once to notice that these things are rewarding us for being distracted and distant from the Only One who should matter to us? No wonder our chapels are empty, the Blessed Sacrament is abandoned. No one knows how to just sit with Jesus anymore!
Labels:
contemplation,
eucharistic adoration,
love,
meditation
Monday, August 17, 2009
Dress This Way, Look the Other Way?
Case in Point
Rant:
This past Saturday was the Feast of the Assumption of Mary into Heaven. It was also my 2nd cousin's wedding. Before going to into the church building, I put on my shoulder wrap, covering up my nearly bare back and arms. Mom had a fit saying "God doesn't judge! God doesn't judge that way!" While I cannot bear Scriptural proof that God would or would not judge me for how I go dressed to Mass, I follow a few simple points. One of them being that when I enter the House of God, I'm literally standing before Him in the Tabernacle (albeit, Veiled in wheat). When I was working, I had to be dressed properly for the position. If you dress well for a mere mortal you call boss, how much more should you dress for the one you call Master and Saviour? You should give Him your best because He gave you His All.
I also dress formally for Mass (business casual or interview worthy) because I know how distracting casual and informal dress is: I don't want to see tattoos or bikini tan lines, or g-string triangles. If others (men and women) are distracting to me, how more so am I for someone else? Chapel veils help shield my side vision from other distractions, and I can reasonably assume that I'm not contributing to someone's near occasion of sin.
What's your reaction / opinion?
Rant:
This past Saturday was the Feast of the Assumption of Mary into Heaven. It was also my 2nd cousin's wedding. Before going to into the church building, I put on my shoulder wrap, covering up my nearly bare back and arms. Mom had a fit saying "God doesn't judge! God doesn't judge that way!" While I cannot bear Scriptural proof that God would or would not judge me for how I go dressed to Mass, I follow a few simple points. One of them being that when I enter the House of God, I'm literally standing before Him in the Tabernacle (albeit, Veiled in wheat). When I was working, I had to be dressed properly for the position. If you dress well for a mere mortal you call boss, how much more should you dress for the one you call Master and Saviour? You should give Him your best because He gave you His All.
I also dress formally for Mass (business casual or interview worthy) because I know how distracting casual and informal dress is: I don't want to see tattoos or bikini tan lines, or g-string triangles. If others (men and women) are distracting to me, how more so am I for someone else? Chapel veils help shield my side vision from other distractions, and I can reasonably assume that I'm not contributing to someone's near occasion of sin.
What's your reaction / opinion?
Labels:
appropriate,
attire,
dress,
Mass,
seasonal,
Traditional Latin Mass
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Fun with the Family
If it weren't spiritually agonizing, I'd howl with laughter at the plans my mother and father are cooking to keep me from the convent. I may not go this year, but hopefully I'll enter next year.
My Grandmother asks what is wrong with me for not wanting to marry. A friend told me to quip "I'm marrying Jesus" and while I am, I don't want to attend a funeral.
My mother wants me to attend business school, when I just graduated with a Masters in social work 2 months ago.
Dad said that he could barely afford to make my monthly loan payments if I don't get a job soon; yet he's willing to pay that and tuition if I go back to school.
Dad says I cannot collect donations from parishes and friends through the Laboure Society because I will be "taking it away from others." Pardon me, but this is Los Angeles! Where do you see other vocations?!? (Okay, so we exist, but we keep it covert.)
And the reasons I want to laugh:
- whatever is not the Will of God will be thwarted.
- Jesus came to separate Mother from daughter, father from son, etc.
- I'm 24 & they can't force me to go to school.
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