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Triumph of the Cross

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“The Sovereign Lord has opened my ears;
    I have not been rebellious,
    I have not turned away.
 I offered my back to those who beat me,
    my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard;
I did not hide my face
    from mocking and spitting.
 Because the Sovereign Lord helps me,
    I will not be disgraced.
Therefore have I set my face like flint,
    and I know I will not be put to shame.”

(Isaiah 50:5-7)

Anyone can give intellectual assent to Christ’s existence, his nature and purpose. Anyone can quote Scripture. Satan did both of those things. When the devil tempted Jesus in the desert he quoted Scripture just fine. The demons exorcised by Jesus proclaimed his truth screaming, “You are the Christ the Som of God!” as they left the scene at his command.. So it isn’t enough to know the Bible or to acknowledge Jesus in order to belong to him. Following him, identifying with him, seeking unity with him, living as he did, loving him in all of his mystery, that is what being Christian is.

His triumph was all of the things that most confound the forces of hell: sacrifice, obedience, love, surrender, acceptance, humility, non-violence, abandonment to God, suffering and losing a fight in front of the whole world, and on purpose.

Even we don’t understand it unless we console ourselves that he was resurrected on the third day, which he was. But in that moment he died with trust and abandonment. He gave himself over and faced his enemies in silence.

This throws Satan, and sadly it throws us too.

Even we Christians hold a deep attachment to violence and revenge. We cannot let go of the exhilarating high of vainglorious triumph.

And yet the Beautiful One admonished us to take up our crosses and follow him.

I don’t think that is simply putting up with the hardships of life hoping for reward though I know that is part of it. I think we need to respond to the violent world as he did.

Turning the other cheek to me means, “I will not be turned back from love.” That kind of power can only come from God and we have to want it.

We have to renounce ourselves and follow Jesus. That’s how we find life and even find ourselves.

I haven’t gotten there yet. I have been there sometimes but it is not yet my home, my way of being. Not yet. I suppose that is how it is for most of us.

I still want to win. I want to win, I tell myself, for others; for the poor, for those on the margins, for immigrants. However, like anyone, my motivations are mixed. There is still a selfishness and pride in it. We all want to force things, to feel powerful. It is the effect of the fall of humanity in us.

The real battle we have is against ourselves, as St. Teresa of Avila says. And this is hard, she points out, “because we love ourselves very much.”

God gave us an innate sense of justice and right. There is nothing wrong with this. We go wrong when we stray from the Gospel. A line in the Oscar Romero movie, Romero got to me. St. Oscar said to a fellow priest and advocate for justice, who tried to talk him into joining the rebels with him on behalf of the suffering people of El Salvador, “If you do this you will lose God just as they [those he would take up arms against] have.” Whether these were St. Romero’s exact words or not it is an incredibly powerful statement. It rings utterly true. If we persist in our attachment to violence we will lose God. Nothing, absolutely nothing is worth that. And we will “lie down in torment.” (Isaiah 50:11)

I have read that some people are starting to complain to their pastors when they preach on the Beatitudes, that the preaching was too left leaning. When confronted with the fact that these are the words of Jesus Christ, they retort that this is outdated, doesn’t work, is “weak.” Look at us. We haven’t changed. The Cross, the Gospel, is still a scandal, still makes no sense.

However, When he was insulted, he returned no insult; when he suffered, he did not threaten; instead, he handed himself over to the one who judges justly. (1 Peter 2:23)

For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps” (1 Peter 2:21).

There is really no way around that.

Even those of us who know and accept the teachings of Jesus have parts of ourselves still attached to violence and our own ideas of justice. We still hope Jesus will clear the world of bad people on his return.. Not us though because we are nice people, right?

St. John of the Cross said that even if the only thing keeping a little bird tied to a tree branch is the thinnest of threads, the bird is still tethered, still not free.

We have to cut the thread.

On this Triumph of the Cross in 2023, in this era of mass shootings, unkindness and cruelty, and the promotion of a lack of compassion as a good thing by a significant portion of society, even by a good number of our fellow Christians, lets renounce violence in the Name of Christ, embracing instead the way of Jesus.

We can’t belong to the Christ of Revelation unless we belong to the Jesus of the Gospels with all that he showed us.

Thank God he is with us to help us with his endless grace.

He who has begun the work in us will complete it. (Philippians 1:6)

We have only to decide, every day, and trust that he will triumph in us.

“I have promised it and I will do it, says the Lord.” (Ezekiel 37:14b)

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The Liturgy of the Hours

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Every morning as sunlight makes its way across the earth, the  praises of God awaken from the heart of the  praying Church. Behind  the sunrise the praises and petitions continue through the hours of the day. As each time zone turns into the darkness, Night Prayer is raised to God beneath the moon and stars. 

This is the official prayer of the Church called The Liturgy of the Hours, The Divine Office, “The Work of God,”  prayed by Catholics of every vocation, by Pope Francis, by our Bishops, priests, religious, and by many lay people as well; the same words of prayer in every language of humanity. 

It is an anchor in the day, a way to sanctify time, express unity with the whole Church, and to call our hearts back to God again and again. 

Morning and Evening Prayer are laid out for us daily as a hymn, two Psalms, and a Scriptural Canticle, (a poem or song in the Bible that is not a Psalm) each with antiphons, (a reflective one line prayer) and followed by “Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.” 

After the  Psalms and Canticle there is  a Scripture reading; usually from  a New Testament letter. 

After that  there is what is called a “Responsory.” For example: 

 Just is the Lord, in justice he delights.
— Just is the Lord, in justice he delights.

He looks with favor on the upright man;
— in justice he delights.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit,
— Just is the Lord, in justice he delights.

This will be followed, for Morning  or Evening Prayer, by a New Testament Canticle. For Morning Prayer, this will always  be the Song of Zechariah (Luke 1:68-79). In the Evening it will be Mary’s Song we call The Magnificat ( Luke 1:46-55),  each with their respective antiphons.. 

After this are the Petitions, similar to the ones we pray at mass. These are different each day. Then we pray the Our Father and a closing prayer that changes daily. 

The other daytime  “Hours” : midmorning, midday and mid afternoon are more abbreviated.  Night Prayer is brief and includes an Examination of Conscience and Act of Contrition or Confiteor, along with its Psalms prayers and canticles. It ends with a Marian antiphon such as the “Hail Holy Queen” to kiss our mother goodnight. 

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The “Office of Readings” will have a longer reading, usually from the Old Testament, and a Patrisric reading (from a Church father or from the writings of a Saint) and can be prayed any time. 

These prayers in their daily format can be found in the four volume version of The Liturgy of the Hours which unfortunately is a bit expensive for some. You can also buy  the one volume version called Christian Prayer if the expense is prohibitive. Christian Prayer does not include the Office of Readings. 

It’s hard to learn to navigate the volumes at first while you are getting used to this. You might want to buy what’s called The St. Joseph Guide, a little paper book that gives you all the page numbers for each day.  There is a lot of page turning and going back to a page and so on. I once heard a priest describe it as “death by ribbons.” Yes it feels like that! 

It was worth it to me to learn. The Liturgy of the Hours has become an indispensable part of my everyday life, connecting me consciously to God and to the whole Church at the times of day I pray it. As Secular Carmelite I am committed to pray Morning, Evening and Night Prayer daily. 

Through hard times I have prayed every available “hour” to help me get through the day, which was healing and helpful for me. At all times the rhythm of it grounds and connects me with the family of God. 

Morning and Evening Prayer should take about ten minutes for you to pray at a normal pace.  The other “hours” are shorter. 

When we pray the  Psalms of  Liturgy of the Hours we  are praying with Jesus who prayed these too as did the generations before him. We are praying with the whole Church, with the voice of the Church. 

I love praying with everyone. 

Another thing I love about praying The Liturgy of the Hours all these years is that the Scriptures they contain are written in my heart. A line from a Psalm that is just right will come to me at exactly the right time when I need it. The prayers , Canticles and  Psalms are woven into my life now like flowers in my hair. 

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I look forward to praying the Divine Office as I wait for my coffee to brew,  or when I start thinking about what to make for dinner, or when I am getting ready for bed. 

I enjoy praying it alongside others as well, especially my family and my Carmelites when we are together. When we are apart the liturgy connects me with them.  

Know that praying The Liturgy of the Hours does something. It is never just a recitation. 

“For the word of God is alive and active.  (Hebrews 4:12a) 

“So shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I pupose

and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.”  (Isaiah 55:11)

We are praying God’s words, and the words of the Church spoken by the Holy Spirit. We are participating in the healing of the world. We are allowing ourselves to become conduits of God’s grace when we join our brothers and sisters spiritually for “The Work of God”. 

Now I will tell you a secret. The secret is that nowadays you don’t have to go through “death by ribbons” unless you just want to. I feel like a cheater because I use the app now though I still cherish the books. I have the app called Divine Office on my phone. You can also pray from the Divine Office website or the other one,  Universalis. 

So you see? It’s not hard. Come on and join us. You’ll be glad you did.   

From the rising of the sun to its setting, let the Name of the Lord be praised. (Psalm 113:3)

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*This piece originally appeared as my column in The Eagle Newspaper Saturday June 24, 2023

Immaculate Heart of Mary

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Happy Immaculate Heart of Mary day! I’m wearing my Immaculate Heart of Mary.shirt today as I clean house, watch my granddaughter and cook. Normally I would be at work on a Saturday but today I am not. As I clean or hang out laundry, I’m pondering Mary’s heart; open and free of the obstructions and blindness that would keep her from love. She had the freedom to be unreservedly given to prayer and communion with God.

Her beating heart also reminds us that Mary was and is 100% human. She is our sister. Because she is free from sin, she is us without impediments; able, as Eve would have been, to see other people’s inner truths as well as their physical bodies when she looked at them, and to see God in all things because of her purity of heart. When she looks at us now Mary sees and understands us completely with total freedom from selfishness and pride, able to love us as we are. She doesn’t judge us. She just loves us. She wants to give us everything. With all of her heart she longs to bring us to her Son more and more fully. She is totally human, totally pure of heart. She is all God’s. She is all ours.

Spend some time appreciating Mary’s beauty and humanity today, her love, her sweetness, her heart.

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“And now that you are alone daughter,”

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To me Ordinary Time is getting back to the everyday and delightful work of prayer and service that makes up our beautiful Christian lives. It means hot Texas afternoons, coming into the cool, quiet church, feeling relieved as the sweat evaporates from my face and back and peace surrounds me.

“Hi Jesus. hi. Help me pay attention at mass this time.” I can’t help but smile to myself, or really, at him, in his sweet presence there.

His presence is also right here with us, in us.

Ordinary Time beckons

with the promise of quiet inner space

to be with Jesus in the center of my heart,

I in the center of his,

drawing from the source of all life.

St. Teresa wrote about how the companionship of the Lord is magnified when we are prayerfully solitary, our awareness of him not in the least disturbing our perfect solitude.

“Contemplation is nothing more than making time to be alone with the one who we know loves us.”

Instructing us in how to go about practicing inner prayer, she writes, “And now that you are alone, daughter, make the Sign of the Cross.”

In this way you acknowledge that you are in the presence of God, with the intention of spending time alone with him.

You will notice this kind of quiet and solitude are more full than empty, and that the fullness is nourishing, often joyful. Again, it makes me smile. “Hi Jesus, hi.”

If you have trouble with your focus when you are alone, if stillness causes you anxiety, or of you have many worries that disturb your peace, here are a few things to try.

It helps me to listen to the sounds around me. If you are blessed with a silent house or a quiet chapel, these sounds will be small. Mentally note them, starting with the farthest away. Maybe a dog barks from a neighbor’s yard down the street. Someone is mowing in the distance, a car drives by. Now bring your awareness closer. Maybe you hear birds singing, children playing next door, wind in the trees outside your window, a sprinkler perhaps. How about sounds in your house or wherever you are right now? A clock ticking, a washing machine swishing, the refrigerator humming, the dog drinking its water in the kitchen;

listen.

What sounds are in your room? The ceiling fan, the air coming on… your own breathing.

Speaking of breathing, take a few deep breaths; in through your nose, out through your mouth.

Put all your worries in a little pile; Milagros to leave here in his lap while you pray. He will take care of you.

And now that you are alone, daughter, son, love of God’s life, make the Sign of the Cross.

Ah, there he is now.

Smile.

See him smile back.

Send some time with this, with him.

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The Ascension

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To us who celebrate it every year the Ascension of Jesus  seems to naturally follow the initial celebration of his Resurrection. 

However I imagine it was an earth shattering surprise to his followers that he would be leaving them yet again. 

When I reflect on this event as part of the rosary the virtue I link to the Ascension is detachment as I see him beautifully disappear before the eyes of his followers as “a  cloud removed him from their sight.” 

The family of believers had to let go of their expectations that Jesus as they knew him would permanently remain to walk and talk with them. Again they had to face that Jesus was not about to get rid of the Roman occupiers either. There would be no restoration of the Davidic Kingdom  in the literal way they had thought of it. And the One they loved was going to withdraw from them yet again. They must have felt as if they were back from the defining experience of their lives with nothing to show for it, as if they were just a rag tag group of people standing on a mountainside for no particular reason. They were shocked and bereft. They didn’t understand what Jesus meant about him having to leave that the Holy Spirit could come to them. How could they? 

When the angel said that Jesus would be back they must have shaken their heads. Jesus had said for them to go and baptize, to take his message to the world. This must have seemed like too much for them, an overwhelming task, especially on their own. 

They had to greatly expand their understanding of God even past the miraculous three years they had left everything for and deeply identified with now. 

They had to let go so they could be filled and receive Jesus in a whole new way, by his presence in their hearts, and to come to know the Holy Spirit who was new to them. 

How can we receive the Spirit without detachment, self emptying, without freedom of heart? 

“Love- the way God wants to be loved, and leave off your own way of acting,” said St. John of the Cross. 

Or, as Jesus said to St. Angela of Foligno, “Make of yourself a capacity and I will make myself a torrent.” 

Jesus said that if his friends loved him they would be happy he was going to the Father. (Jon.14:28) Is there something more to that than being happy for him? Yes, because he says, “for the Father is greater than I.” Maybe it also means that we have to let our current perhaps more comfortable understanding go to make room for the immensity he has for us. We can be happy he is going to the Father because then, in letting him go as we thought we had him, he then is truly closer than our breath, more accessible than ever. Detachment is hard. We feel that we are losing our Treasure.   

 St. Faustina said of Mary’s experience of the Ascension that she deeply grieved as any mother would  that her Son was leaving but that, “her heart could not want what God did not want.” 

In seeking a pure heart for God and a Marian detachment; a detachment with great love, a detachment even from the way we thought Jesus would be present to us, we open ourselves to what is even greater, beyond what we could ever have thought of ourselves.  But first we let go. 

“Bend  my heart according to your will, O God.” (Ps. 119:36) 

Then, 

“I shall run in your paths for You will enlarge my heart.” (Psalm 119:32)

In this is peace that comes from open-ness to God and freedom of heart.

These verses are a perfect prayer to cultivate holy detachment as the disciples struggled to do this, standing there on the Mount of Olives, not knowing what to do with themselves. 

Fortunately we don’t have to rely on our own strength in this and neither did they.

Jesus had said to wait in Jerusalem and to pray. They did. They trusted in simplicity. And prayer continually purified theirattachments and intentions as disciples, transforming their dismay into receptivity.   

They still longed for Jesus; his voice, his hug, the sound of his footsteps, “like a deer that longs for running streams in a dry weary land without water,” (Ps. 42:2)  However they soon found that once emptied, their muddled and broken hearts were then open to the new gift of God’s presence; the descent of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, filling them past overflowing, their thirst for God more than quenched.  “Your torrents and all your waves swept over me.”  (Ps. 42: 8)

Come, Holy Spirit, come. 

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A Quiet Easter 2023

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I have been sick this Triduum so it’s been very different than most for me. I have been in bed with cats all over me, hearing Hannah Montana music non stop because my granddaughter loves it these days.( No fair I already went through that with her mother!)

My youngest daughter and my granddaughter and I did little family liturgies for each day of this Triduum. The seven year old was wiggly but reasonably behaved and interested. She only had to be threatened by her mother a couple of times with no TV if she didn’t settle down and stop interrupting. This year the washing of feet seemed to resonate for her. I think she really listened to Jesus’ words about that and was surprised by them.

I followed the readings and slept and the prayed the Liturgy of the Hours and slept. I followed my personal traditions as well as I could as Christians all over the world walked together with Jesus through the last days of his earthly life.

I missed the mass of all masses last night, the great Easter Vigil. But I think my fever broke.

I missed experiencing that with everybody.

The good thing is I was in touch with the grace of this holy time. I do feel changed. I do feel that I passed from death to life with Jesus hand in hand.

We didn’t come out of the tomb with trumpet blast or brilliant light. We just walked out of there. Then we went to see our friends and console our mom.

I’m still in bed today missing all the stuff. The best I can do is to pray Morning Prayer and burn frankincense incense in the censor I save for holy days. I’m enjoying clouding up the room.

I am hoping to join my parish in an evening mass, and to see my eldest daughter and her boys today. They are excited about egg hunting. My granddaughter has been practicing in our apartment with plastic eggs for several days so she is ready.

Oh Jesus we will never come to the end of your beautiful surprises. The physical resurrection of your body happened in quiet and dark but its repercussions are endless, eternal, a treasure we will never exhaust, never fully understand.

We thank you. We bless you. We adore you. We glorify you.

Praised be Jesus Christ

-both now and forever.

Moments of peace with the animals

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Some of the most focussed and peaceful moments of my day are with my cat, Annie. She is whole heartedly affectionate and usually demands at least a few minutes of my attention in the morning. She appears in my path on my way to get my coffee and waits. When I take a moment to connect with her she pours her whole self into showing her love for me as if she just can’t get close enough.  She expects me to love her back enthusiastically. If I don’t she will gently pull my wrist with her paw or press her face to mine. Annie tunes me in to mindfulness presence and love before anything else even coffee. When I look back on my day that little bit of time connecting with Annie is often my favorite thing that happened. 

I remember putting the chickens away on a stressful evening after a scary and difficult day during the time my husband was fighting cancer. I noticed my dog, Gracie, standing by my knee being supportive. I leaned over and hugged her. I could hear her breathing change to that slow, satisfied dog breathing in my ear. This was 12 years ago but I still remember that peaceful moment and the breeze that ruffled our hair making me think of the Holy Spirit coming to lift our hearts. I think the Holy Spirit did come and renew our strength. 

Our dogs, Gracie and Flower understood what was going on with my husband. When he had trouble walking they flanked him on each side protectively. The night he was dying they came and checked on him every hour. They loved us. We weren’t alone. And they gave me chances to stop to breathe and pray, looking at their faces, seeing their silent steadfast love. 

One busy day I changed gears and sat down in the hay with Gertrude, my red hen. We looked at each other for a while. “Chicken gaze” will make you feel strange. I think it is because their eyes are on the sides of their heads so when you make full eye contact with a chicken it feels like the universe is catywampus for a second. The again that feeling may be chickens transmitting their psychedelic world view to us somehow. Chickens are all crazy as anyone who has spent time with them knows. Gertrude and I had a moment. And then suddenly she violently tried to pull out my nose ring. After that I shared an apple with her. I took a bite, she stabbed her beak into it and took a bite too. It was cool.

As a teen I sometimes got into pastures full of cows to take pictures. I learned to be still enough they would  all came close to have a look at me. I used to smile at them and talk to them a little. We would regard one another. Slowly they would move closer to me. One group after deciding I was OK came and started licking my arms and shoulders and even my face while I giggled. Maybe I was salty or maybe they were just curious. Or maybe they knew I had given up eating meat. Who knows? 

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Some years ago I was looking out of a window at night thinking about this and that. I noticed an owl staring at me from a branch outside. I stared back. I sat down and we kept it up. “Hey let’s pray,” I said. And I can say I meditated with an owl. 

As a young angry teen I was scribbling angry stuff in my journal with the window open. I felt eyes on me so I looked up and there was a praying mantis on my window sill. As we looked at one another it slowly cocked his head continuing to gaze at me. I felt connected to the universe for a second as if I got a glimpse of something beyond myself. I still remember that strange peaceful feeling. 

And at a time I really needed it a butterfly came and kissed my nose. Who could forget a moment like that?

I have heard little stories of encounters like this from so many other people. Maybe you have some stories too.

There is something spiritual about connecting with animals, about allowing them to connect with us. I think of all the saints who could communicate with animals, and of Adam and Eve who seemed able to as well. 

Maybe part of the Fall and the disorder in nature that it brought, was a barrier between us and nature, between us and the animals.  Maybe we were once in harmony and peace with God’s other creatures. Maybe sometimes part of us remembers, times when we are able to open our hearts to them. Maybe it’s a kind of prayer or maybe it is a gift of grace or both. The Saints often broke through the veil of separation from God. Maybe they stepped through the barrier of separateness with nature, with animals too. Sometimes when we connect with animals we get a glimpse of that world. 

I still look for it every day. 

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Book Review: Our Lady of Hot Messes by Leticia Ochoa Adams

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I’ve been following Leticia Ochoa Adams, one of my favorite Catholic writers, for years on social media and I’ve loved reading her blog posts. She has always said what I wished someone would say even though I didn’t know I wished that until she made me laugh out loud or feel totally seen by a Catholic writer in a way I had not felt before. I admire her fearless and thorough self assessments, her frank story telling. There is a freedom that inspires in the way she manages to be rigorously honest about herself without sounding self absorbed or over dramatic. Reading her writing feels like sitting at The Kettle late at night with a comfortable friend who still surprises  with her stories and insights. 

So when I saw she had a book coming out I couldn’t wait to read it. It’s called Our Lady of Hot Messes from Ave Maria Press. It is the author’s spiritual memoir; the story of her life, a record of her conversion, an experience of her spirituality, the lessons she has learned, her observations about the world, her commentary on the times we are living through. 

Leticia Ochoa Adams is not shy. Thank goodness because the world needs her voice, the voice of a Tejano daughter of a single mother who has endured more than her share of trauma and tragedy. Most recently she has survived the suicide of her son, Anthony. She is able to talk about this and the abuse she experienced as a child without being either lurid or glib. She makes it easy to learn from what she has been through and in sharing these things she lights the way for others. 

She writes about the ways she, and we, numb ourselves, attaching ourselves to activities and material things that keep us from being with God as fully as we could be like “doom scrolling,” on social media and even more innocent things we become inordinately attached to. She examines the mixed motivations she and we often have with a disarming simplicity and clarity.  

She reminds us we should just be ourselves. The most important thing to her is being real. I think she has accomplished that with a strength and self possession that might make you raise your eyebrows a little as you read.

One of her chapters is called “Cussing is Normal” in which she challenges us to consider if it’s really enough to use words like “dumb bunny” instead of cuss words when we have the same amount of malice in our hearts when we say them to someone. 

I enjoyed her passages about finding God among people.  She saw how Christ-like bar flies can be when they care for one another having witnessed the lives and friendships of the men who hung out in the dive bar where she was once a bartender. She learned the Ten Commandments and honorable conduct as part of a community from the “G Code” at the majority black high school she attended long before she learned these things in church. God had been teaching her all along through the events and people in her life. Jesus had been there.

Jesus is real and immediate to her. He’s watching TV with her on the couch. He’s funny, he makes her laugh sometimes and he loves her. She tells him everything. I appreciate the way she shares how that relationship has grown throughout her life, through grief and love and her search for  truth. 

 She wants us to know she doesn’t have it all together, that we are at home in the Church whether we feel we have the perfect Catholic life or not. 

It’s funny that she asked such hostile questions at the first RCIA  (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults) class she went to, she got kicked out. She only went to get her boyfriend to marry her, she says. She had been taught at a different church growing up that Catholics were idol worshipers and that the rosary was witchcraft. She was ready to be hostile again on her second try at the class but she was so blown away by the explanation of John chapter 6 she forgot to be mad when they got to the Virgin Mary and the rosary because she was still thinking about the Eucharist.  

The thing I love most about being Catholic is that I have found a place that hasn’t gotten tired of my questions. I can ask them without fear of being kicked out. Having a relationship with God and his mother does not mean that I know everything. It does not mean that I do not question why things are the way they are. But it does mean that I get to show up as me, even if that means I fall asleep when I try to pray my rosary at bed time.” 

Her chapter on the rosary is my favorite one. “Praying the Rosary Like a Loser.”   

“I also consider that Hail Marys are what make up the Rosary and each one is a rose laid at her feet. So when I don’t have time to pray the Rosary I just try to lay spiritual roses at her feet like not cussing out a coworker or not flipping off someone in traffic or paying for someone’s lunch. Those are all just as valid as roses to her. And that, my friends, is how to pray the Rosary like a loser when you do not have your life together. You just try not to be a jerk to others, and you think about those moments as roses laid at the feet of Our Lady. And you know that you are loved.” 

Is God with us in depression?

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It’s a bit of a struggle. Some days are better than others. I noticed this summer that I was more emotionally fragile than I normally am. The anniversary of my brother’s death causes me grief but it hit me harder than usual this August. After it was over I didn’t feel all that much better. I had days I wondered what was going on with me this summer. When I start to feel alienated, withdrawn and broken I have to stop and sort out what it could be.

It could be regular old depression. It could be a stressor in my life. Or ten stressors. It could be that weird wiring I have from my Complex PTSS (formerly called PTSD). It could be grief issues coming up again for some reason. It could be more traumatic memories trying to surface – a process I particularly hate.

In any case I try to accept myself as God accepts me. Someone I like asked on social media whether God is with us in depression. It’s one thing to know the truth of his presence intellectually and quite another for our hearts, for our souls to know it. Of course he is with us.

Over the years when I am in this state that sometimes feels like a darkness and exhaustion, sometimes like broken-ness, sometimes like a crushing weight, I know he is with me, taking care of me, helping me bear this little cross of mine until I feel better.

It’s hard not to feel guilty when I’m depressed. Sometimes I need a walk or to pray. Other times I just need to hide in my room with a book. That last feels like I am being lazy and I feel bad. Jesus doesn’t want me to feel bad about what I need to do to get through depression. It’s hard for me to take care of myself when I am like this. It’s something I have to do for Jesus. “Eat a sandwich for me. Drink some water.” I tend to not only forget to eat when I am running rough, sometimes I feel angry about having to eat. So he says sweetly, “Eat something for me because I love you and I want you to.” And I will for him.

I’m so tired. I have this feeling of wanting to go home but I don’t know where I’m supposed to go. Even Heaven sounds exhausting.

Some afternoons are crushingly tough. Depression can be gray and tiring. Other times it can be a ferocious attack tearing me apart.

I’m impatient with my family, or irritable and I have to apologize.

This time around my depression seems like an agitated depression I have never had before. That scares me because my brother got like that before his suicide, though his was certainly more extreme. I think of this as a mild depression in comparison to what I saw my brother go through and not make it out of.

I am doing all the things I need to do. That in itself is a good sign. I even talked to my doctor; something I tend to avoid if at all possible. I try everything else first that I know to try. I look at my diet, stress, circumstances. I start taking B-Complex at my hardest time of day which tends to be the afternoon.

I look at the roses in the catalog. (I love looking at roses). I blow bubbles. I pet my cat.

I tell God, “I am depressed right now and I’m not sure what to do anymore. I’m so glad you are with me.”

Always I know it is temporary. I will get better. I imagine feeling better, sun on my face, feeling peaceful.

Now it is the holidays which are hard for my family and me, and maybe for you too. However I also know we will get through it, we all will.

If you are wondering if you should be “too blessed to be stressed” or something, (what nonsense), or if you are like me during depression and feel guilty about everything all the time every day, if you don’t know why your heart feels like it’s bleeding, and why you don’t have more faith, (you have plenty!) well I welcome you, and God does too.

Every second, love surrounds you, helping you along. This too shall pass, and once you have done all you can, and gotten the help you need, (I did, please don’t be ashamed about that) the rest is up to the Lord. Your job is to get through the day with his help.

Another thing I do is offer up my anguish to God with Mary, as she asked at Fatima, for the souls of others.

Oh Jesus, it is for love of you, for the conversion of sinners, and in reparation for the sins committed against your Sacred Heart and against the Immaculate Heart of Mary and, (I add), for everyone who suffers sorrow anywhere in the world today.”

I say to Jesus and Mary at the end of the day that I made it and thank you and also I add that I love sleeping and I’m comfortable and thank you for sleep.

“And thanks for being with me through this.”

Because they are. And they are with you, too.

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