Saturday, June 25, 2011
An Open Letter
I made a few videos this morning as a series of open letters to my friends about the NY legislature's passage of the same-sex marriage bill. I've seen a lot of people be civil to each other over this issue, but I've seen so many more people be argumentative, rude, unkind, and downright cruel. I don't blame anyone for this, because I've seen it on both sides. I made these videos because I want to be able to tell people how I feel, but Facebook statuses don't really cut it, and I didn't really want to type it anyway, because words on a screen are too easy to misinterpret, even by accident. The videos are rough, as they were meant to be rough drafts, but after reviewing them, I don't know if I could say it any better, even with all the gaffes they include. So without further ado, here they are:
Blogger won't upload the last one, so I'll upload it separately.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
God's Tests
I don't like to study. At all. In my whole life, I can never remember liking to study, even the subjects I liked. This has resulted in more than one failed test, and unfortunately, many more passes than fails. It may come as a surprise to some that I consider having a photographic memory and high retention rate for facts "unfortunate", but I do. When other kids were off in their rooms studying feverishly for tests and quizzes, I was most likely reading a book or amusing myself in some other way. I was a smart kid, and for most of my academic life I have not really needed to study, though I have been hit in the face with that need more than once since entering college, and even a few times in high school.
Many times over the past year or so, I have labored in my spiritual life under the delusion that unlike many of the tests I have taken in academia, the tests God gives are surprises. No announcement a week ahead of time, no study guide, and no notes (though I admit He is much better at preventing the people He tests from cheating!). However, this is not true. Okay, so maybe I don't take spiritual notes on anything, but if I cared to look hard enough, I would certainly see it coming, and I read enough online and in books for them to serve as study guides. God is even nice enough to throw me lifelines in the middle of my tests in the form of my friends and anyone else who might have the answers to my questions.
But this doesn't mean I don't wish I'd learned to study. I was hit in the face with this fact this morning, reading one of my school's chaplain's blog posts. He mentioned how when people face difficulty in their lives, he asks them if they're praying. Not just "Do you say your prayers before bed?", but if they're saying heartfelt prayers and entering into meaningful conversation with God. Many people, he says, sheepishly admit that they're not doing so, and more often than not, neither am I. It kind of hurt me to admit that to myself, since I know I should be doing a better job in my prayer life, but I suppose that even as much as it hurts me, it must hurt God even more.
You see, as much as I try to be faithful, and oftentimes fail, I think of myself as the sheep from the Gospel of Luke. Except that I must be the most schizophrenic sheep in the entire world, because I will stray, allow God to find me, let Him take me at least part of the way back, and then start to fight Him. Or if I do get all the way back, I start peeking through the holes in the pasture fence to see what's outside, as if I hadn't just been there and discovered firsthand how bad it is. Saying this makes me realize just how silly this habit is, and how, if I had such a sheep, I would probably keep it under an extra lock and key to protect it from its own sheer stupidity. But no, this dumb little sheep is allowed her free will to go waltzing back out into her sin outside the pasture, and is promptly responded to when she bleats for the Shepherd to come find her and take her back home.
I find this is true now more than ever, as coming back home has provided ample opportunities for me to stray, and I knew it would. I was warned more than once that being at home would be hard, and I should build up a solid, regular prayer life where it was the norm while I could, so it would be habit when the school year was over. And I kinda, sorta listened to those warnings, but not nearly enough. I did pray every day, and I still do, but it's harder having to go almost from the ground up now that I'm no longer in a spiritual vacuum. In other words, I knew the test was coming, I got multiple warnings about it, and I decided not to study. I decided that I could make it through the test on what little effort I had to put in during class. Now, as with any academic test, I'm not quite halfway through, and already pulling about a C (if that).
Fortunately, God's tests, provided they're long enough, are the ones you can kind of study for while you're taking them. So all is not lost for the crazy sheep, though she will have to start really saying her prayers, and try not to stand so close to the gate. :)
Many times over the past year or so, I have labored in my spiritual life under the delusion that unlike many of the tests I have taken in academia, the tests God gives are surprises. No announcement a week ahead of time, no study guide, and no notes (though I admit He is much better at preventing the people He tests from cheating!). However, this is not true. Okay, so maybe I don't take spiritual notes on anything, but if I cared to look hard enough, I would certainly see it coming, and I read enough online and in books for them to serve as study guides. God is even nice enough to throw me lifelines in the middle of my tests in the form of my friends and anyone else who might have the answers to my questions.
But this doesn't mean I don't wish I'd learned to study. I was hit in the face with this fact this morning, reading one of my school's chaplain's blog posts. He mentioned how when people face difficulty in their lives, he asks them if they're praying. Not just "Do you say your prayers before bed?", but if they're saying heartfelt prayers and entering into meaningful conversation with God. Many people, he says, sheepishly admit that they're not doing so, and more often than not, neither am I. It kind of hurt me to admit that to myself, since I know I should be doing a better job in my prayer life, but I suppose that even as much as it hurts me, it must hurt God even more.
You see, as much as I try to be faithful, and oftentimes fail, I think of myself as the sheep from the Gospel of Luke. Except that I must be the most schizophrenic sheep in the entire world, because I will stray, allow God to find me, let Him take me at least part of the way back, and then start to fight Him. Or if I do get all the way back, I start peeking through the holes in the pasture fence to see what's outside, as if I hadn't just been there and discovered firsthand how bad it is. Saying this makes me realize just how silly this habit is, and how, if I had such a sheep, I would probably keep it under an extra lock and key to protect it from its own sheer stupidity. But no, this dumb little sheep is allowed her free will to go waltzing back out into her sin outside the pasture, and is promptly responded to when she bleats for the Shepherd to come find her and take her back home.
I find this is true now more than ever, as coming back home has provided ample opportunities for me to stray, and I knew it would. I was warned more than once that being at home would be hard, and I should build up a solid, regular prayer life where it was the norm while I could, so it would be habit when the school year was over. And I kinda, sorta listened to those warnings, but not nearly enough. I did pray every day, and I still do, but it's harder having to go almost from the ground up now that I'm no longer in a spiritual vacuum. In other words, I knew the test was coming, I got multiple warnings about it, and I decided not to study. I decided that I could make it through the test on what little effort I had to put in during class. Now, as with any academic test, I'm not quite halfway through, and already pulling about a C (if that).
Fortunately, God's tests, provided they're long enough, are the ones you can kind of study for while you're taking them. So all is not lost for the crazy sheep, though she will have to start really saying her prayers, and try not to stand so close to the gate. :)
Women of Grace
For the last few weeks, I've been watching the show Women of Grace on EWTN in between looking for jobs (and finally finding one!), and although I find it a little cheesy sometimes, I do enjoy it very much. It's an easy way to keep connected with my faith without my parents having to see, and it's on all week at the same time. The show's host, Johnette Benkovic, covers all sorts of different topics in her short half hour each day, and any viewer can tell that she earnestly desires for those who watch the show to know the God of love. She ends each episode by saying "Until next time, may the abundant life of Jesus Christ be yours", which I think is a sweet phrase, but also a sort of blessing on her viewers, though I doubt many of them are not actively seeking that life, such is the crowd that watches EWTN.
WoG is a lovely little respite for me each day, and often the highlight, except for yesterday. Three weeks ago, I was (FINALLY) able to make it to daily Mass and Adoration in a little church two towns over, and it was magnificent! I was the only person even remotely close to my age in the church (not counting the altar boys), but I didn't care. I sat and listened to the readings and the homily, and almost could have cried, I was so happy to finally make it back to God on a day that wasn't Sunday. Immediately after Mass ended, the altar boys and the priest started setting up for a holy hour, and I was psyched. I could barely concentrate on praying because I was genuinely that excited, and I wasn't disappointed. Almost nobody from Mass left, and they started Adoration with Morning Prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours (something I try to do every morning). After all that, I settled in to say the Rosary, and by the time I was done, I had a few minutes of quiet, personal prayer before Benediction. It was fabulous, and I loved every minute. :)
A couple of the women in the church approached me after Adoration had ended, since it's not often that teenagers run into church of their own volition at 7:30 a.m., and they probably wondered what had brought me out so early for no apparent reason. The answer, of course, was Jesus Christ, and we talked about our faith, and my future (as is inevitable, my being a college student and all). They told me they would pray for me, and for my school's Newman Center, since it has instilled in me a deep love of God and a solid, orthodox faith. I talked to one of them in the parking lot, and she took great joy in the fact that I was running after Christ, even though I was not in the place where my experience of Him was the strongest.
In the days since this Mass, I have tried to get to that church for Mass as often as I can, though often I don't make it because my father doesn't leave early enough for work for me to make the trip in time. I've considered leaving right after he does to try to catch what part of the Mass I can, or simply getting there in time for the Holy Hour they have every morning, but I don't know if I should. Part of that may be my neuroses about wanting to be on time for the whole thing, but I know that another part is that I feel there's a particular grace in going to Mass when I can now that it's rather less often than it is at school. I also know that there are graces in having the women I interact with at Mass and Johnette's wonderful (if occasionally campy) show as good examples for how to live during my remaining time at home.
WoG is a lovely little respite for me each day, and often the highlight, except for yesterday. Three weeks ago, I was (FINALLY) able to make it to daily Mass and Adoration in a little church two towns over, and it was magnificent! I was the only person even remotely close to my age in the church (not counting the altar boys), but I didn't care. I sat and listened to the readings and the homily, and almost could have cried, I was so happy to finally make it back to God on a day that wasn't Sunday. Immediately after Mass ended, the altar boys and the priest started setting up for a holy hour, and I was psyched. I could barely concentrate on praying because I was genuinely that excited, and I wasn't disappointed. Almost nobody from Mass left, and they started Adoration with Morning Prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours (something I try to do every morning). After all that, I settled in to say the Rosary, and by the time I was done, I had a few minutes of quiet, personal prayer before Benediction. It was fabulous, and I loved every minute. :)
A couple of the women in the church approached me after Adoration had ended, since it's not often that teenagers run into church of their own volition at 7:30 a.m., and they probably wondered what had brought me out so early for no apparent reason. The answer, of course, was Jesus Christ, and we talked about our faith, and my future (as is inevitable, my being a college student and all). They told me they would pray for me, and for my school's Newman Center, since it has instilled in me a deep love of God and a solid, orthodox faith. I talked to one of them in the parking lot, and she took great joy in the fact that I was running after Christ, even though I was not in the place where my experience of Him was the strongest.
In the days since this Mass, I have tried to get to that church for Mass as often as I can, though often I don't make it because my father doesn't leave early enough for work for me to make the trip in time. I've considered leaving right after he does to try to catch what part of the Mass I can, or simply getting there in time for the Holy Hour they have every morning, but I don't know if I should. Part of that may be my neuroses about wanting to be on time for the whole thing, but I know that another part is that I feel there's a particular grace in going to Mass when I can now that it's rather less often than it is at school. I also know that there are graces in having the women I interact with at Mass and Johnette's wonderful (if occasionally campy) show as good examples for how to live during my remaining time at home.
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