I wasn't terribly excited about the only Novena I found in honor of the Feast of the Transfiguration, so I did some searching, and decided to cobble together one of my own... and this was the simplest way I could think of to share it! May God Bless you and Transform you.
Novena in Preparation for the Feast of the Transfiguration
Feast Day August 6
Matthew 17:1-9
After six days Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light. And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, conversing with him. Then Peter said to Jesus in reply, "Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud cast a shadow over them, then from the cloud came a voice that said, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him." When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate and were very much afraid. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, "Rise, and do not be afraid." And when the disciples raised their eyes, they saw no one else but Jesus alone. As they were coming down from the mountain, Jesus charged them, "Do not tell the vision to anyone until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead."
Mark 9:2-10
After six days Jesus took Peter, James, and John and led them up a high mountain apart by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no fuller on earth could bleach them. Then Elijah appeared to them along with Moses, and they were conversing with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus in reply, "Rabbi, it is good that we are here! Let us make three tents: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." He hardly knew what to say, they were so terrified. Then a cloud came, casting a shadow over them; then from the cloud came a voice, "This is my beloved Son. Listen to him." Suddenly, looking around, they no longer saw anyone but Jesus alone with them. As they were coming down from the mountain, he charged them not to relate what they had seen to anyone, except when the Son of Man had risen from the dead. So they kept the matter to themselves, questioning what rising from the dead meant.
Meditation and Novena Prayer
We acknowledge the Divinity of Christ - and seek to be Transformed into the likeness of Christ.
Heavenly Father, as we meditate on the mystery of Your Transfiguration, we pray that the light of Christ will transform our lives, rising us from the dust of our human existence into the light of divinity. We strive to live a holy life and aspire to say with St. Paul, "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." With St. Peter we rejoice in the spiritual life and say "Lord it is good to be here". Lord, please transform our hearts and minds, renewing them by Your Light, that we may become one body and one Spirit, one in the hope of our call; one with You, our God and Father of all, Who is over all and through all and in all.
Hail Mary full of Grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed are Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, to be transformed into the likeness of Christ, now and at the hour of our death. Amen
Scripture passages from the NAB Translation.
Meditation adapted from http://www.theworkofgod.org
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Be Still
I've been realizing something recently.
Next month I will celebrate my 3rd anniversary with my company, and it will have been 4 years since I moved in to my apartment. This will be the longest consecutive employment I've had with one company, and matching the longest I ever lived in one home (same house all 4 years of high school). I've been feeling odd and out of sorts recently, and I begin to think it is because my life is still.
Now, please do not think that my life is stagnant, it is certainly not that (and I can't wait to tell you about the Miles Christi Spiritual Exercises retreat I made last weekend), but it is still. I am learning to be a steward of what I have where I am rather than to think about what I want or where I will be. I lived in 5 states by age 12, and attended 12 schools by grade 9. I moved around a lot when I was young, and even though I've now been in Illinois for over half my life, that rootless foundation still has it's effect. Even though I don't want anything to change, it feels like it ought to be changing. And that's not to mention that even though I lived in the same house and went to the same high school for four years, I spent all of that time waiting for college, and then I spent all of college thinking about being married, and my first few years after college still thinking about being married - Now, I am living my life.
I think our society is one which avoids stillness (I'm thinking for example of the recent Kate Winslet/Leonardo DiCaprio movie) and I am no different. I used to wake up to the radio, turn the TV on for background noise, and fall asleep to the radio. I used to spend hours daydreaming about being an actress, an officer in the Marines or the wife of a Marine, the wife of an international diplomat... all very exciting, all very glamorous (OK, maybe the Marines aren't glamorous to you - but when I was little and people asked what I wanted to do when I grew up I always said I wanted to Marry a Marine!) and all pretty "non-stop" in their attributes.
So here I am. On my 30th birthday this summer I will still be in the same apartment, I will still work for the same company, still be single, and still (probably) not have heard God say "Go!" God has been saying "Wait" a lot recently; "Wait and be still". "Stay, and learn", "Sit, and listen". Have you ever looked up the word "still" in the dictionary? According to www.dictionary.com "still" has almost two dozen definitions, including "remaining at peace or at rest", "free from sound or noise", "free from turbulence or commotion", "steadily, constantly, always", "in addition", "to silence or hush", "to calm", "to quiet"....
Job 33:31 says "Pay attention, Job, and listen to me; be silent, and I will speak. "
I guess my whole life is God's way of getting me to pay attention. Well the Lord has my attention, and I almost said "now what?" - but the "now what" is to keep my attention on Him. Always.
Next month I will celebrate my 3rd anniversary with my company, and it will have been 4 years since I moved in to my apartment. This will be the longest consecutive employment I've had with one company, and matching the longest I ever lived in one home (same house all 4 years of high school). I've been feeling odd and out of sorts recently, and I begin to think it is because my life is still.
Now, please do not think that my life is stagnant, it is certainly not that (and I can't wait to tell you about the Miles Christi Spiritual Exercises retreat I made last weekend), but it is still. I am learning to be a steward of what I have where I am rather than to think about what I want or where I will be. I lived in 5 states by age 12, and attended 12 schools by grade 9. I moved around a lot when I was young, and even though I've now been in Illinois for over half my life, that rootless foundation still has it's effect. Even though I don't want anything to change, it feels like it ought to be changing. And that's not to mention that even though I lived in the same house and went to the same high school for four years, I spent all of that time waiting for college, and then I spent all of college thinking about being married, and my first few years after college still thinking about being married - Now, I am living my life.
I think our society is one which avoids stillness (I'm thinking for example of the recent Kate Winslet/Leonardo DiCaprio movie) and I am no different. I used to wake up to the radio, turn the TV on for background noise, and fall asleep to the radio. I used to spend hours daydreaming about being an actress, an officer in the Marines or the wife of a Marine, the wife of an international diplomat... all very exciting, all very glamorous (OK, maybe the Marines aren't glamorous to you - but when I was little and people asked what I wanted to do when I grew up I always said I wanted to Marry a Marine!) and all pretty "non-stop" in their attributes.
So here I am. On my 30th birthday this summer I will still be in the same apartment, I will still work for the same company, still be single, and still (probably) not have heard God say "Go!" God has been saying "Wait" a lot recently; "Wait and be still". "Stay, and learn", "Sit, and listen". Have you ever looked up the word "still" in the dictionary? According to www.dictionary.com "still" has almost two dozen definitions, including "remaining at peace or at rest", "free from sound or noise", "free from turbulence or commotion", "steadily, constantly, always", "in addition", "to silence or hush", "to calm", "to quiet"....
Job 33:31 says "Pay attention, Job, and listen to me; be silent, and I will speak. "
I guess my whole life is God's way of getting me to pay attention. Well the Lord has my attention, and I almost said "now what?" - but the "now what" is to keep my attention on Him. Always.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Be careful what you ask for...
You just might get it!
As previously mentioned, I know about redemptive suffering. I know about offerring up pain and suffering - for the intentions of the Sacred & Immaculate Hearts, the conversion of sinners & salvation of souls, etc... And thanks to Joseph, I know about "troubling he who troubles me". But as I have been seeking to 'trouble he who troubles me' the fatigue aspect of my fibromyalgia has been increasing and increasing. Argh and growl, what to do...
Last night I was reading "Eucharistic Adoration for the Sanctification of Priests and Spiritual Maternity" and on page 30 is a story of St. Therese of Lisiex. While ill, a sister accompanying her on an ordered walk told her she should rest and she replied, "Well, I am walking for a missionary. I think that over there, far away, one of them is perhaps exhausted in his apostolic endeavors, and, to lessen his fatigue, I offer mine to God."
Should I have known that I can offer up my fatigue just as I can offer up my pain? Of course I should have! If in "whatever [we] do, [we] do everything for the glory of God" (1 Cor 10:31) then we can offer up our whole lives - our joy and sorrow, our pain and health, our fatigue and our leisure. But did it occur to me until I read the Little Saint's words? Nope.
When I was 12 years old I received my First Holy Communion. My catechist, Mrs. L., gave me a copy of "Mercy My Mission" (a biography of St. Faustina) and a booklet about the Divine Mercy. Even though I was still more Baptist than Catholic I never doubted that (then still) Sister Faustina had experienced everything the book said she did, including redemptive suffering for the salvation of souls, and I remember telling God that I wanted to "do that" too. From the mouths of babes eh?
So here I am, around 20 years later, wondering why I'm always so tired and achey and sore and in pain all the time... I don't always remember to offer up my life as it's happening, but St. Padre Pio once told a priest who had intended to offer a Mass for him, but forgot to do so during the Mass, that it was okay - God had accepted the intention he made while walking up the stairs to go to Mass. And there's a BC comic strip that I cut out years ago, and which is still tacked to my bulletein board at home, which states that 'future events cast backward shadows'. A serpent says that doesn't make any sense... until the shadow of a cross falls across him. The rest of the strip is also deeply meaningful and I'm confidently hopeful that it will be included in "I Did it His Way" - a book collection of John Hart's religious comic strips. These two statements, along with the story of Bishop William Emmanuel Ketteler (also included in the document linked to above) have led me to believe that everything I do with the intent of offerring is accepted by God as an offerring - even if I don't remember it at that moment. When I was 12 years old I told God I was willing to suffer for the conversion of souls, now when I do suffer, whether I remember in the moment to make an offering of it or not, I beleive God accepts it as an offering for the slavation of souls.
Of course, by reading spiritual documents and "think[ing] of what is above, not of what is on earth" (Col 3:2) I find that I am more likely to remember and reaffirm the offering throughout the moments of my day, just as St. Therese, and the lay sister told of by Bishop Ketteler, did. I think this is more efficacious, but since I "know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose" (Rom 8:28) I will rest in Him confident that He accepts all my sufferring... and my fatigue.
As previously mentioned, I know about redemptive suffering. I know about offerring up pain and suffering - for the intentions of the Sacred & Immaculate Hearts, the conversion of sinners & salvation of souls, etc... And thanks to Joseph, I know about "troubling he who troubles me". But as I have been seeking to 'trouble he who troubles me' the fatigue aspect of my fibromyalgia has been increasing and increasing. Argh and growl, what to do...
Last night I was reading "Eucharistic Adoration for the Sanctification of Priests and Spiritual Maternity" and on page 30 is a story of St. Therese of Lisiex. While ill, a sister accompanying her on an ordered walk told her she should rest and she replied, "Well, I am walking for a missionary. I think that over there, far away, one of them is perhaps exhausted in his apostolic endeavors, and, to lessen his fatigue, I offer mine to God."
Should I have known that I can offer up my fatigue just as I can offer up my pain? Of course I should have! If in "whatever [we] do, [we] do everything for the glory of God" (1 Cor 10:31) then we can offer up our whole lives - our joy and sorrow, our pain and health, our fatigue and our leisure. But did it occur to me until I read the Little Saint's words? Nope.
When I was 12 years old I received my First Holy Communion. My catechist, Mrs. L., gave me a copy of "Mercy My Mission" (a biography of St. Faustina) and a booklet about the Divine Mercy. Even though I was still more Baptist than Catholic I never doubted that (then still) Sister Faustina had experienced everything the book said she did, including redemptive suffering for the salvation of souls, and I remember telling God that I wanted to "do that" too. From the mouths of babes eh?
So here I am, around 20 years later, wondering why I'm always so tired and achey and sore and in pain all the time... I don't always remember to offer up my life as it's happening, but St. Padre Pio once told a priest who had intended to offer a Mass for him, but forgot to do so during the Mass, that it was okay - God had accepted the intention he made while walking up the stairs to go to Mass. And there's a BC comic strip that I cut out years ago, and which is still tacked to my bulletein board at home, which states that 'future events cast backward shadows'. A serpent says that doesn't make any sense... until the shadow of a cross falls across him. The rest of the strip is also deeply meaningful and I'm confidently hopeful that it will be included in "I Did it His Way" - a book collection of John Hart's religious comic strips. These two statements, along with the story of Bishop William Emmanuel Ketteler (also included in the document linked to above) have led me to believe that everything I do with the intent of offerring is accepted by God as an offerring - even if I don't remember it at that moment. When I was 12 years old I told God I was willing to suffer for the conversion of souls, now when I do suffer, whether I remember in the moment to make an offering of it or not, I beleive God accepts it as an offering for the slavation of souls.
Of course, by reading spiritual documents and "think[ing] of what is above, not of what is on earth" (Col 3:2) I find that I am more likely to remember and reaffirm the offering throughout the moments of my day, just as St. Therese, and the lay sister told of by Bishop Ketteler, did. I think this is more efficacious, but since I "know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose" (Rom 8:28) I will rest in Him confident that He accepts all my sufferring... and my fatigue.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Off to a Start
What kind of start I'm not exactly sure, but it's a start!
I actually woke up and got ready efficiently enough to make it to morning Mass, which helps with the fasting in addition to being just plain the best way to start your day. But, on the way from Mass to work I caught myself complaining around half dozen times... and it's only a 15 minute drive!
I don't think fasting is necessarily any more difficult for me than for anyone else, but I am a food person. Food to have something to do with your hands, food if you're bummed, food to celebrate, food if you "have a taste for" something, food to have a full belly; lots of reasons to eat in my little world. So today, fasting, what do I think about every time I get up from my desk - you guessed it, food! I am thankful for having had the opportunity to begin my day with the Real Food and Real Drink of the Eucharist, by God's Grace, every time I think of food today I remember that I am fasting. And why am I fasting? Well, if you said "Because it's Ash Wednesday you might be missing the point. I happened to read a great post at Adam's Ale about purposefully practic[ing] acts of denial, charity, and penance. I highly recommend it.
As for the complaining, well, the Complaint Free World idea is to switch a bracelet from wrist to wrist when you complain. I ordered one (and now think I didn't need to, alas and alack) but don't have it yet, so I decided to use a rosary ring given to me by a friend. The ring fits on my forefinger and not only do I move it from left to right (and back again) when I complain, but becuase it's a rosary I was inspired - deep breath, drumroll, can you imagine - to PRAY when I caught myself complaining. Now why didn't I think of that sooner?
So, here am I at my desk on Ash Wednesday - wearing my ashy smudge on my forehead in spite of the Gospel exhortation to " anoint your head and wash your face, so that you may not appear to be fasting, except to your Father who is hidden." - fasting, praying, and working on the practice of not complaining.
Just for the record, how do we reconcile the "wash your face" exhortation with the fact that we walk around ashy all day? My intent is not to have people see my ashy smudge, I was blessed to be able to start my day with Mass, nevertheless, it's there and so I do "appear to others to be fasting"...
I actually woke up and got ready efficiently enough to make it to morning Mass, which helps with the fasting in addition to being just plain the best way to start your day. But, on the way from Mass to work I caught myself complaining around half dozen times... and it's only a 15 minute drive!
I don't think fasting is necessarily any more difficult for me than for anyone else, but I am a food person. Food to have something to do with your hands, food if you're bummed, food to celebrate, food if you "have a taste for" something, food to have a full belly; lots of reasons to eat in my little world. So today, fasting, what do I think about every time I get up from my desk - you guessed it, food! I am thankful for having had the opportunity to begin my day with the Real Food and Real Drink of the Eucharist, by God's Grace, every time I think of food today I remember that I am fasting. And why am I fasting? Well, if you said "Because it's Ash Wednesday you might be missing the point. I happened to read a great post at Adam's Ale about purposefully practic[ing] acts of denial, charity, and penance. I highly recommend it.
As for the complaining, well, the Complaint Free World idea is to switch a bracelet from wrist to wrist when you complain. I ordered one (and now think I didn't need to, alas and alack) but don't have it yet, so I decided to use a rosary ring given to me by a friend. The ring fits on my forefinger and not only do I move it from left to right (and back again) when I complain, but becuase it's a rosary I was inspired - deep breath, drumroll, can you imagine - to PRAY when I caught myself complaining. Now why didn't I think of that sooner?
So, here am I at my desk on Ash Wednesday - wearing my ashy smudge on my forehead in spite of the Gospel exhortation to " anoint your head and wash your face, so that you may not appear to be fasting, except to your Father who is hidden." - fasting, praying, and working on the practice of not complaining.
Just for the record, how do we reconcile the "wash your face" exhortation with the fact that we walk around ashy all day? My intent is not to have people see my ashy smudge, I was blessed to be able to start my day with Mass, nevertheless, it's there and so I do "appear to others to be fasting"...
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Catholic Blogs
All I can say is, "Wow!"
I knew there were Catholic bloggers out there, my very good friend at Franciscan Focus introduced me to the blogosphere, and Adoro Te Devote is the one who inspired me to finally jump in the pond and swim. I'd heard of Amy Wellborn and the Curt Jester, but after deciding to follow a number of blogs I discover that each blogger has a list of blogs they follow, and those bloggers follow others, and on and on it goes. Now, there are some folk who follow the same folk, but the lists still go on and on (did I say that already?)
Now, on the one hand, this is a little intimidating. I am neither a brilliant researcher, political analyst, or witty commentator. But what I find really amazing is that by entering the blogosphere I have entered a whole new realm of educational resources. Now, the risk is there that I may come upon some heterodoxical blogger who thinks the pope ought to ordain women or some such nonsense, but there are so many wonderful orthodox bloggers out there that I'm pretty sure I'll be able to winnow the wheat from the chaff. Now... where to find the time to read all these wonderful blogs...
I knew there were Catholic bloggers out there, my very good friend at Franciscan Focus introduced me to the blogosphere, and Adoro Te Devote is the one who inspired me to finally jump in the pond and swim. I'd heard of Amy Wellborn and the Curt Jester, but after deciding to follow a number of blogs I discover that each blogger has a list of blogs they follow, and those bloggers follow others, and on and on it goes. Now, there are some folk who follow the same folk, but the lists still go on and on (did I say that already?)
Now, on the one hand, this is a little intimidating. I am neither a brilliant researcher, political analyst, or witty commentator. But what I find really amazing is that by entering the blogosphere I have entered a whole new realm of educational resources. Now, the risk is there that I may come upon some heterodoxical blogger who thinks the pope ought to ordain women or some such nonsense, but there are so many wonderful orthodox bloggers out there that I'm pretty sure I'll be able to winnow the wheat from the chaff. Now... where to find the time to read all these wonderful blogs...
Monday, February 23, 2009
A Complaint Free Lent
A few years ago I read about a church that started a program of not complaining. So, when I felt called to a complaining fast this Lent, I went to A Complaint Free World on the world wide web. People trying to live complaint free wear a purple bracelet (how fitting for Lent, eh?) and every time they complain, switch the bracelet from one wrist to the other. The general idea is to make it 21 days without complaining, and thereby creating a complaint free habit. The Lenten idea, for me anyways, is to teach myself to control with whom I share which information. Does everyone in the office need to know that I'm in a fibro flare up and am having a hard time walking? Probably not. Do they see me walking weird, of course, but I don't need to complain about it. Over the weekend I was having an exceptionally difficult time walking, and especially on stairs. I kept reminding myself to "trouble he who troubles me" and didn't avoid activities that required going up and down the stairs. Complaining about my physical issues has been my way of seeking human consolation rather than divine consolation, and it's difficult to offer up a pain that you're busy whining about, so I'm looking forward to focusing more on my relationship with God than with just anyone who will listen.
What I think I will find difficult is not complaining about everything else. Last week something frustrating occurred in the course of a claim, and I said to a co-worker, "Can we ban stupid people?" I have learned that I have a very low tolerance for mistakes in others (we won't get in to the mistakes I make - planks and splinters for sure). Never-the-less, I figure if I put detailed intructions in writing, and provide my e-mail and phone number in case anything is unclear or there are any questions, then by yiminy if I don't hear from you with questions I expect what I requested in detailed instructions! Right? Yeah, not so much. In fact, earlier that day I had mentioned to the same co-worker my complaining fast, so when I asked my him if we can ban stupid people his first response was, "Is that complaining?" Earlier he had seemed pretty tickled by the fact that he gets to hold me accountable to the complaining fast if he catches me complaing, so he said he was clarifying whether this comment fell into the parameters.
So! Fat Tuesday tomorrow - and no I will not be a compaint glutton tomorrow as a last "hurrah" - and then, Lent. This will be a good Lent for a complaining fast as it is booked pretty solid, and fatigue makes me more whiney. I'm actually a little nervous, and wonder if I'm over-extended, but committments have been made, so we'll see what happens. So far today, I don't think I've complained about anything, although, I have been alone in my office pretty much all morning...
A Lenten Motto: Phillipians 2:14,15
Do everything without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine like lights in the world... (NAB)
Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe... (NIV)
What I think I will find difficult is not complaining about everything else. Last week something frustrating occurred in the course of a claim, and I said to a co-worker, "Can we ban stupid people?" I have learned that I have a very low tolerance for mistakes in others (we won't get in to the mistakes I make - planks and splinters for sure). Never-the-less, I figure if I put detailed intructions in writing, and provide my e-mail and phone number in case anything is unclear or there are any questions, then by yiminy if I don't hear from you with questions I expect what I requested in detailed instructions! Right? Yeah, not so much. In fact, earlier that day I had mentioned to the same co-worker my complaining fast, so when I asked my him if we can ban stupid people his first response was, "Is that complaining?" Earlier he had seemed pretty tickled by the fact that he gets to hold me accountable to the complaining fast if he catches me complaing, so he said he was clarifying whether this comment fell into the parameters.
So! Fat Tuesday tomorrow - and no I will not be a compaint glutton tomorrow as a last "hurrah" - and then, Lent. This will be a good Lent for a complaining fast as it is booked pretty solid, and fatigue makes me more whiney. I'm actually a little nervous, and wonder if I'm over-extended, but committments have been made, so we'll see what happens. So far today, I don't think I've complained about anything, although, I have been alone in my office pretty much all morning...
A Lenten Motto: Phillipians 2:14,15
Do everything without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine like lights in the world... (NAB)
Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe... (NIV)
Friday, February 20, 2009
Joy in Pain Part 3
In a comment to my first post on Joy in Pain, Joseph shared a teaching of St. Seraphim, that to those who "asked him why he carried a bag of heavy stones on his back, when he was obviously in enough pain and agony with his health, [he would say] "O my dear brother/sister, I am merely troubling he who troubles me!" Around the same time I read an article in Pray! magazine that pointed out that in Psalm 62 we are encouraged to "pour out [our] hearts to him, for God is [our] refuge." These two statements tell me that I can do at least two things with my pain. I can either embrace and welcome it, "thumbing my nose" if you will at the one who brought pain into the world. Or, if I've got complaining or whining in my heart, I need to pour that out to God so that once it is out, He can pour in to my heart something so much better - Joy.
I find it not at all coincidental that these two teachings should be presented to me as I prepare to celebrate the season of Lent. The season of Lent is a Joyful season, (many of the Eucharistic prayers for Lent remind us of this joy) so it's no surprise to me that that God is calling me to refocus on the joy in my pain. In fact, as I said in my reply to Joseph's comment, I had initially only planned on a 2 part Joy in Pain 'series' because I was feeling a little stuck in the whining side of my pain. But thanks to these two halves of a newly forming whole, I get to move on, not just to "part 3" in a blog, but to a closer walk with the Source of Joy.
I can't write in any great depth on either of these statements today, but that's not the point in sharing them. The point is that they are there. The point is that I have the next clue on the treasure map. The point is that, recognizing I was stuck, I have now been given the leverage to get un-stuck. What an exciting, joy filled Lent I have ahead of me! And, by Easter, or Pascha as it is called in the East, I should have a lot more to say about "troubling he who troubles me" and "pour[ing]ing out [my] heart to... God".
I find it not at all coincidental that these two teachings should be presented to me as I prepare to celebrate the season of Lent. The season of Lent is a Joyful season, (many of the Eucharistic prayers for Lent remind us of this joy) so it's no surprise to me that that God is calling me to refocus on the joy in my pain. In fact, as I said in my reply to Joseph's comment, I had initially only planned on a 2 part Joy in Pain 'series' because I was feeling a little stuck in the whining side of my pain. But thanks to these two halves of a newly forming whole, I get to move on, not just to "part 3" in a blog, but to a closer walk with the Source of Joy.
I can't write in any great depth on either of these statements today, but that's not the point in sharing them. The point is that they are there. The point is that I have the next clue on the treasure map. The point is that, recognizing I was stuck, I have now been given the leverage to get un-stuck. What an exciting, joy filled Lent I have ahead of me! And, by Easter, or Pascha as it is called in the East, I should have a lot more to say about "troubling he who troubles me" and "pour[ing]ing out [my] heart to... God".
Joy in Pain Part 2
I mentioned in my previous blog that I have fibromyalgia, and included a link to the Web MD overview. But that doesn't really paint the picture, so before I go any further, I want to give you a better idea of how I frame the fibromyalgia picture.
First, I'd like you to imagine that you spent yesterday with the craziest trainer in the world. Though you've never worked out a day in your life, your trainer had you weight training like a WWE wrestler all morning, doing cardio like an Olympian all afternoon, and then put you back on weights in the evening. You then spent all night working on a project, the success or failure of which would mean either getting a promotion or losing your job. You then took a two hour nap somewhere around 4 am before getting up to get ready for work. Now, in addition to the mental and physical fatigue and the body soreness and stiffness, imagine there's a tribe of microscopic, invisible gremlins running around inside your body with sledgehammers and ice-picks, and they may strike anytime, anywhere. Have the mental picture? Good - that's your introduction to fibromyalgia.
Don't get me wrong, most days those gremlins don't do enough to hold down a job in the real world, and the fatigue and soreness is more of an irritant than anything else. But on days like today, when the 'symptoms' raise from a 1 -2 to a 5-6 on that pain scale, they become a very irritating interruption. Something that should take one minute takes five, something that should take five minutes may take fifteen. I can still do everything I need to do, it's just more difficult. And quite frankly, today I'm not going to get in to the 8 -9 level days. If you want to imagine it, take the above description and imagine it's a 75 year old doing all that.
So, now that I've provided an overview of fibromyalgia, you may be thinking based on my comments about Assisi that I am the most joyful person in the world. I wish I could say it were so, but I am sorry to say that what happened in Assisi doesn't happen every day. It "happened" in Assisi; it was a gift by the grace of God so I know it's possible, I know it exists - I know it's a choice. But, it's a choice I don't always make. Many days I am a complaining, whining, pity-partying fool. When a gremlin does strike, I am just as likely to stop in my tracks and wait for the pain to stop before continuing my work as I am to keep working, even though I know the pain is just a nerve misfiring, and nothing is actually wrong. Sometimes, if someone calls me at the wrong time, or makes the mistake of asking "how are you?" as they walk by, (the fact that most people ask that in passing without waiting for an answer is a topic for another blog!) they might even get an earful. But even though I whine and complain to others maybe 10% of the time, the rest of my whining and complaining is all internal, "self talk" as some call it, and rarely, when I think about it, directed to God. I sit in my chair or lay in bed and feel sorry for myself and ask myself why it's so hard "to offer it up" and why can't I be as easily joyful as I was in Assisi... I get caught up in thinking about how irritating, or annoying, or distracting, or hurtful, or frustrating the pain is... I get wrapped up in the negative, and because I don't want to "burden" anyone, or be the person who only calls a friend when she's miserable, I dwell there as though it were my home.
This is not the way I want to live my life. I think it was Matthew Kelly who I once heard ask, "Are you going to let your mortal body control your immortal soul?" I want to live in Assisi, not in Whine World. I want to be full of Joy, not full of frustration and complaining...
Thankfully, although the end of this particular post, this isn't the end of the story.
First, I'd like you to imagine that you spent yesterday with the craziest trainer in the world. Though you've never worked out a day in your life, your trainer had you weight training like a WWE wrestler all morning, doing cardio like an Olympian all afternoon, and then put you back on weights in the evening. You then spent all night working on a project, the success or failure of which would mean either getting a promotion or losing your job. You then took a two hour nap somewhere around 4 am before getting up to get ready for work. Now, in addition to the mental and physical fatigue and the body soreness and stiffness, imagine there's a tribe of microscopic, invisible gremlins running around inside your body with sledgehammers and ice-picks, and they may strike anytime, anywhere. Have the mental picture? Good - that's your introduction to fibromyalgia.
Don't get me wrong, most days those gremlins don't do enough to hold down a job in the real world, and the fatigue and soreness is more of an irritant than anything else. But on days like today, when the 'symptoms' raise from a 1 -2 to a 5-6 on that pain scale, they become a very irritating interruption. Something that should take one minute takes five, something that should take five minutes may take fifteen. I can still do everything I need to do, it's just more difficult. And quite frankly, today I'm not going to get in to the 8 -9 level days. If you want to imagine it, take the above description and imagine it's a 75 year old doing all that.
So, now that I've provided an overview of fibromyalgia, you may be thinking based on my comments about Assisi that I am the most joyful person in the world. I wish I could say it were so, but I am sorry to say that what happened in Assisi doesn't happen every day. It "happened" in Assisi; it was a gift by the grace of God so I know it's possible, I know it exists - I know it's a choice. But, it's a choice I don't always make. Many days I am a complaining, whining, pity-partying fool. When a gremlin does strike, I am just as likely to stop in my tracks and wait for the pain to stop before continuing my work as I am to keep working, even though I know the pain is just a nerve misfiring, and nothing is actually wrong. Sometimes, if someone calls me at the wrong time, or makes the mistake of asking "how are you?" as they walk by, (the fact that most people ask that in passing without waiting for an answer is a topic for another blog!) they might even get an earful. But even though I whine and complain to others maybe 10% of the time, the rest of my whining and complaining is all internal, "self talk" as some call it, and rarely, when I think about it, directed to God. I sit in my chair or lay in bed and feel sorry for myself and ask myself why it's so hard "to offer it up" and why can't I be as easily joyful as I was in Assisi... I get caught up in thinking about how irritating, or annoying, or distracting, or hurtful, or frustrating the pain is... I get wrapped up in the negative, and because I don't want to "burden" anyone, or be the person who only calls a friend when she's miserable, I dwell there as though it were my home.
This is not the way I want to live my life. I think it was Matthew Kelly who I once heard ask, "Are you going to let your mortal body control your immortal soul?" I want to live in Assisi, not in Whine World. I want to be full of Joy, not full of frustration and complaining...
Thankfully, although the end of this particular post, this isn't the end of the story.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Joy in Pain Part 1
There seem to be conflicting views in the world on suffering and pain, and I have to say from my personal experience that the two most amazing, joyful days in my life were also the two most excruciatingly painful days of my life - and considering I have chronic kidneys stones, that's saying something!
In the summer of 2005 I was blessed to be a chaperone on a pilgrimage to Rome and Assisi, Italy and Cologne, Germany for World Youth Day, but before I can talk about the pilgrimage I have to back up a little. In April of that year I had moved in to a new aprtment. Due to problems with my right foot, I carried all the "heavy stuff" on my left side, and started to experience some pain in my left hip. I didn't think much of it until I noticed that trying to baby my left hip and my right foot was causing my right hip to jump on the pain wagon. Finally, around the 4th of July, the pain became so severe that I had to go to the doctor. When the nurse called my name to go back to the exam room and saw how I was walking she offerred me a wheelchair. To give you an idea of how bad the pain was, my blood pressure - normally 80s/40s - 90s/50s - was 112/96 (or somewhere therabouts). The pain was so bad that even with 1,000 mg of Vicodin and 500 mg of Naproxen (my prescribed dosages) I was in so much pain I couldn't sleep, I could barely move, and all I really could do was cry... this moment in life was just one month away from a two week pilgrimage. And what do you do on a pilgrimage? Aside from praying of course - you WALK! (By the way, the diagnosis was bursitis.)
So August rolls around - I have a large backpack with everything I'm going to need for two weeks (including Bible, journal, and rosary supplies) that I have to carry myself, 3 different prescriptions for the pain and inflamation, and on that ubiquitous pain scale of 1 - 10 I was vacillating up and down, but never actually pain free. And my companions on the journey? A group of healthy, energetic high school students. Now, don't get the wrong idea - pain and I were no strangers; I had been diagnosed with fibromyalgia at age 19, and let's not forget those kidney stones, and I had been introduced to the concept of "offering up" pain by a seminarian from my dioces while at WYD in 2002 - but pain wasn't my friend, and I was more than a little concerned about my ability to keep up with the group walking around Rome, Assisi, and Cologne.
So, we then spent 8 hours on a cramped flight to London, then another few hours on a cramped flight to Rome, then a couple days walking at a fast clip around different parts of Rome. By the time a bus dropped us off in Assisi I was exhausted, and the pain... well, let's just say it wasn't taking a separate vaction. After unloading our bags and dropping them in our rooms, what do you suppose we did? If you supposed "walk somewhere" then you supposed right. And if you've never been to Assisi let me inform you that it is not flat. Think lots of up and down, (think San Francisco, but, you know, older :), think uneven cobblestone streets, stairs, hills, and narrow roads. Think, in my case, pain. Then.... Glory and Praise! Mass.
St. Stephen's Basilica was a small building that would fit in one of the unloading bays of the warehouse next to my office. It was a stone walled, stone floored ancient edifice with beautiful acoustics - and solid wood kneelers. During Father's homily he talked about what it means to be on a pilgrimage, and how we take steps along the journey. That particluar word "steps" stuck in my head, until later, during some part of the Mass during which I was experiencing great difficulty remaining standing (and didn't want to kneel on those solid wood kneelers) that word "steps" rolled around and around and around in my mind. In those moments, Father's homily about our steps, my awareness of offering up suffering, and the knowledge that there was over a week of "steps" left to make combined to become an offering to the Lord that every step I took would be an offering for the conversion of souls, in particular those of my family. I was still exhausted and in pain - but now the pain and exhaustion had purpose.
I remember falling asleep shortly after my head hit the pillow that night, and I remember waking up cranky. Very cranky. I rolled off the bed and mentally catalogued every ache, every sore muscle, and especially the sharp shearing pains stabbing through my hips and down my legs. After shuffling slowly toward the bathroom I stopped at the end of the bed and supported myself on the footboard as I rested, scowling and glaring at the expanse of floor separating me from bathroom. Sitting back down was not an option - that bathroom and I had a very important appointment! I thought to myself, looking down at my traiterous body, which shuffled heel to arch (the heel of my leading foot didn't even make it as far as the toes of the other foot) that with my teensy-tiny range of motion it was going to take me a hundred searingly painful steps to get to the bathroom.
And there was that word again. Steps. In an instant my fury, frustration, and self-pity were erased and replaced with the purest, most undistracted joy I had ever experienced. Steps! Every step is a prayer and offerring for the conversion of my families' souls! What would normally take me three or four unmindful, careless strides to accomplish was now going to take many, many careful, mindful, prayerful steps! Suddenly and without any forced intent I was thanking God for my pain, thanking Him for the bursitis, and most of all thanking Him for His Presence with me, and for making me mindful of Him, His promises, and my offerring.
I can't tell you which Basilicas we saw in which order (though I can see them all as clearly in my mind as if I had snapped a photo), I can't tell you which way to turn on any given road to get yourself to this, that, or the other location in the city, I can't tell you what Father's homily was about on our second day in Assisi. I can tell you I have never experienced such joy and pleasure in my life as I did those two days in Assisi, offerring up my pain for the conversion of souls and thanking God for my pain out of a thankful, joyful heart, and not just an obedient one.
In the last years of Pope John Paul the Great's papacy I heard many people ask why he didn't just step aside so someone younger and healthier could do the job. It was, they said, impossible for anyone to do anything worthwhile or effective in his condition. What I realized is that the world does not know that pain and suffering are not punishment, are not weakness, are not defects or shortcomings. Rather, pain, sufferring, sorrow... are Joy, Grace, and the Peace that the world cannot give. Pain and sufferring, like "all things" for "those who love God and are called accoring to His purpose", can be good.
Pax, Bonum, et Gaudium
Peace, Good, and Joy!
In the summer of 2005 I was blessed to be a chaperone on a pilgrimage to Rome and Assisi, Italy and Cologne, Germany for World Youth Day, but before I can talk about the pilgrimage I have to back up a little. In April of that year I had moved in to a new aprtment. Due to problems with my right foot, I carried all the "heavy stuff" on my left side, and started to experience some pain in my left hip. I didn't think much of it until I noticed that trying to baby my left hip and my right foot was causing my right hip to jump on the pain wagon. Finally, around the 4th of July, the pain became so severe that I had to go to the doctor. When the nurse called my name to go back to the exam room and saw how I was walking she offerred me a wheelchair. To give you an idea of how bad the pain was, my blood pressure - normally 80s/40s - 90s/50s - was 112/96 (or somewhere therabouts). The pain was so bad that even with 1,000 mg of Vicodin and 500 mg of Naproxen (my prescribed dosages) I was in so much pain I couldn't sleep, I could barely move, and all I really could do was cry... this moment in life was just one month away from a two week pilgrimage. And what do you do on a pilgrimage? Aside from praying of course - you WALK! (By the way, the diagnosis was bursitis.)
So August rolls around - I have a large backpack with everything I'm going to need for two weeks (including Bible, journal, and rosary supplies) that I have to carry myself, 3 different prescriptions for the pain and inflamation, and on that ubiquitous pain scale of 1 - 10 I was vacillating up and down, but never actually pain free. And my companions on the journey? A group of healthy, energetic high school students. Now, don't get the wrong idea - pain and I were no strangers; I had been diagnosed with fibromyalgia at age 19, and let's not forget those kidney stones, and I had been introduced to the concept of "offering up" pain by a seminarian from my dioces while at WYD in 2002 - but pain wasn't my friend, and I was more than a little concerned about my ability to keep up with the group walking around Rome, Assisi, and Cologne.
So, we then spent 8 hours on a cramped flight to London, then another few hours on a cramped flight to Rome, then a couple days walking at a fast clip around different parts of Rome. By the time a bus dropped us off in Assisi I was exhausted, and the pain... well, let's just say it wasn't taking a separate vaction. After unloading our bags and dropping them in our rooms, what do you suppose we did? If you supposed "walk somewhere" then you supposed right. And if you've never been to Assisi let me inform you that it is not flat. Think lots of up and down, (think San Francisco, but, you know, older :), think uneven cobblestone streets, stairs, hills, and narrow roads. Think, in my case, pain. Then.... Glory and Praise! Mass.
St. Stephen's Basilica was a small building that would fit in one of the unloading bays of the warehouse next to my office. It was a stone walled, stone floored ancient edifice with beautiful acoustics - and solid wood kneelers. During Father's homily he talked about what it means to be on a pilgrimage, and how we take steps along the journey. That particluar word "steps" stuck in my head, until later, during some part of the Mass during which I was experiencing great difficulty remaining standing (and didn't want to kneel on those solid wood kneelers) that word "steps" rolled around and around and around in my mind. In those moments, Father's homily about our steps, my awareness of offering up suffering, and the knowledge that there was over a week of "steps" left to make combined to become an offering to the Lord that every step I took would be an offering for the conversion of souls, in particular those of my family. I was still exhausted and in pain - but now the pain and exhaustion had purpose.
I remember falling asleep shortly after my head hit the pillow that night, and I remember waking up cranky. Very cranky. I rolled off the bed and mentally catalogued every ache, every sore muscle, and especially the sharp shearing pains stabbing through my hips and down my legs. After shuffling slowly toward the bathroom I stopped at the end of the bed and supported myself on the footboard as I rested, scowling and glaring at the expanse of floor separating me from bathroom. Sitting back down was not an option - that bathroom and I had a very important appointment! I thought to myself, looking down at my traiterous body, which shuffled heel to arch (the heel of my leading foot didn't even make it as far as the toes of the other foot) that with my teensy-tiny range of motion it was going to take me a hundred searingly painful steps to get to the bathroom.
And there was that word again. Steps. In an instant my fury, frustration, and self-pity were erased and replaced with the purest, most undistracted joy I had ever experienced. Steps! Every step is a prayer and offerring for the conversion of my families' souls! What would normally take me three or four unmindful, careless strides to accomplish was now going to take many, many careful, mindful, prayerful steps! Suddenly and without any forced intent I was thanking God for my pain, thanking Him for the bursitis, and most of all thanking Him for His Presence with me, and for making me mindful of Him, His promises, and my offerring.
I can't tell you which Basilicas we saw in which order (though I can see them all as clearly in my mind as if I had snapped a photo), I can't tell you which way to turn on any given road to get yourself to this, that, or the other location in the city, I can't tell you what Father's homily was about on our second day in Assisi. I can tell you I have never experienced such joy and pleasure in my life as I did those two days in Assisi, offerring up my pain for the conversion of souls and thanking God for my pain out of a thankful, joyful heart, and not just an obedient one.
In the last years of Pope John Paul the Great's papacy I heard many people ask why he didn't just step aside so someone younger and healthier could do the job. It was, they said, impossible for anyone to do anything worthwhile or effective in his condition. What I realized is that the world does not know that pain and suffering are not punishment, are not weakness, are not defects or shortcomings. Rather, pain, sufferring, sorrow... are Joy, Grace, and the Peace that the world cannot give. Pain and sufferring, like "all things" for "those who love God and are called accoring to His purpose", can be good.
Pax, Bonum, et Gaudium
Peace, Good, and Joy!
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
A Blog about Blogging
I don't know if everyone goes through this when they first discover blogging, but with the exception of my friend's blog Franciscan Focus I've never really been that familiar with blogs. I always thought they were something computer savvy people do. Then said friend convinced me to join Plurk and I met a lot of people, many of whom have blogs. It was AdoroTeDevote who, for whatever reason, inspired me to sign in and create a blog. I fully admit I'm, doing this the easy way, I don't know html, I don't know any codes, and apparently I don't know anything neat either. I discovered the "Next Blog" button, but couldn't find any blogs in English, and my French, alas, is nowhere near fluent. So how do you discover nifty blogs? I've figured out how to "follow" them if I find them... And what on earth am I doing this for anyways? I don't even have internet access at home! And really, how much blog reading can I do on my lunch hour... Then again, I did discover a great new read thanks to Catholic Bibliophagist. Well, my right arm and hand pain level just jumped to 7 on a scale of 1 - 10, so I'm going to take that as a sign to go do something else now.
I love the edit function... I have now discovered (at the end of my lunch when I have to put it on hold until another day) that by filling out my profile I can click on my interests and be directed to a list of bloggers with similar interests! O thrill, O joy! Now if only my arm would stop hurting when I clock back in.... Well, guess I'll be offering it up! For the next Cursillo I think.
I love the edit function... I have now discovered (at the end of my lunch when I have to put it on hold until another day) that by filling out my profile I can click on my interests and be directed to a list of bloggers with similar interests! O thrill, O joy! Now if only my arm would stop hurting when I clock back in.... Well, guess I'll be offering it up! For the next Cursillo I think.
Monday, February 16, 2009
My First Blog!
Well, this is my first blog ever so it will probably be short and test-like, but I'm excited. Now I can talk about pretty much whatever I want whenever want... within reason of course. after all, have to take into account this Sunday's second reading...
Reading II1 Cor 10:31-11:1
Brothers and sisters, Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do,do everything for the glory of God. Avoid giving offense, whether to the Jews or Greeks or the church of God,just as I try to please everyone in every way,not seeking my own benefit but that of the many,that they may be saved. Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.
Emphasis mine. Well, let's see how it looks...
Hey cool, I can edit. Thanks for the support, but it occurred to me after logging off, that I am bound to give offense. When I first read this passage I thought of things that offend me; profanity, disresepct, crudity, etc... but then I realized that what I beleive, that abortion is murder for example, offends many people in my society.
So, how does one interpret Paul's instructions to the Corinthians in American society? Talk about "points to ponder"...
Reading II1 Cor 10:31-11:1
Brothers and sisters, Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do,do everything for the glory of God. Avoid giving offense, whether to the Jews or Greeks or the church of God,just as I try to please everyone in every way,not seeking my own benefit but that of the many,that they may be saved. Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.
Emphasis mine. Well, let's see how it looks...
Hey cool, I can edit. Thanks for the support, but it occurred to me after logging off, that I am bound to give offense. When I first read this passage I thought of things that offend me; profanity, disresepct, crudity, etc... but then I realized that what I beleive, that abortion is murder for example, offends many people in my society.
So, how does one interpret Paul's instructions to the Corinthians in American society? Talk about "points to ponder"...
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