You all know I don't like getting into politics on this blog. That's not the point of it, and I'm not particularly fond of politics, anyway. However, in light of President Obama's singing of a truly historic piece of legislation, I think it is my duty to join with many others who have spoken out on the issue, and to urge you to do the same.
On January 20th, President Obama signed the Department of Health and Human Services mandate which forces all employers (with an exception or two) to provide healthcare to their employees which covers abortafacients, the full range of contraceptives, and sterilization. The exceptions are employers with fewer than fifty (50) employees, and religious organizations which only hire and only serve people of that religion.
The President has made it abundantly clear that no broader religious exemptions will be made, so any organization of any faith that opposes contraception or abortion will be forced to purchase this insurance. The one "allowance" the administration has given is that religious organizations that object to the mandate can have an extra year to decide if they want to:
A) Violate their consciences and religious beliefs,
B) Stop hiring and serving people who do not adhere to their religious beliefs,
C) Pay up to $2,000 per employee (and student, in the case of universities), or
D) Shut down altogether
Now, just as a tiny civics refresher, here is the First Amendment, verbatim: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."* Did you catch that first part? Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof... I like it. What I don't like is the prospect of conscientious objectors being forced to violate their religious beliefs. Wouldn't it be great if the Constitution forbade the government from doing that? Oh wait! It totally does! It's right there in the part that says "...or prohibiting the free exercise thereof." This mandate is completely unconstitutional as written.
Whew, glad we cleared that up. But wait, our government, headed by President Obama, seems perfectly willing to let the law stand as it was passed, without adding any protections or exemptions for religious organizations. Nevermind the fact that people are more than free to seek employment with an entity that will provide this kind of health insurance, or that the religious organizations that seek this exemption do not even make up a simple majority of employers in this country, let alone a vast one, or that exemptions of the kind that is being sought have been made in literally every other bill of this nature that has ever been passed, and that the government cannot force anyone to purchase anything. This mandate is a violation of the rights of every American who objects to contraception and abortion, and we cannot let it stand.
Many times in U.S. history, the government has made foolish, bad, or discriminatory policies which have infringed upon the rights of a segment of the population, and the people have always stood up to oppose those policies in one form or another. This is one of those policies, and so now is one of those times for us to fight and defeat this mandate. Remember that all of us, young and old, every color, creed, and ideology have the power to stop this thing in its tracks. It is possible. We are the "We" in "We the People".
I am also asking you who do not agree with the Catholic Church's teachings on contraception and abortion to fight this with us. It is not as if contraceptives and sterilization cannot be gotten elsewhere, or from employers who do not object to them. This is a matter of religious liberty, not competing moralities. And do kindly remember that many of the institutions that oppose this mandate could make the real decision to close their doors and stop providing their services to anyone. They don't check your creed at the door, they serve you because it is part of their own religious conviction. Keep in mind, as well, that if the government can do it to us, they will see no problem doing it to anyone else. This is a threat facing the whole of the American people, not just some.
Please, speak up. Make yourselves heard. Sign petitions, write emails and letters, protest, DO SOMETHING. We can fight this and win, but in order to win, we do need to fight.
*First Amendment text comes from the National Archives website.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 23, 2012
What It Means To Say 'I Love You'
I don't know if any of you readers recall this, but I've mentioned before that there are FOCUS missionaries on my school's campus, and that I attended one of their regional conferences last year. I also don't know if you'll remember this, but I had a rough time at that conference. I had to face a painful truth about my relationship with my parents, and it weighed on my heart very heavily as well as testing my commitment to Christ and my faith. Bearing this in mind, you might wonder why I would be tempted to go on another one, especially one aimed at teaching FOCUS student leaders (which I am not) how to evangelize on campus. Quite frankly, I wonder that too, having returned less than 24 hours ago from that same conference where I again had to face a painful truth, this time about my relationship with Christ.
One of the seminars I attended this weekend was about how to evangelize effectively on campus by being able to build relationships with people and assess where they are in their faith relationship and where they think they want to be, and where they think God is calling them to be. One of the tools we were given is called The Discipleship Road Map, which describes different stages in a person's spiritual life, where they are on the road of discipleship with Jesus. As a non student leader I don't anticipate finding this particularly useful for others, since I am not evangelizing in the same way the student leaders are, however, it did come in handy for a little bit of self-evaluation.
Initially, when we were asked to place ourselves in one of the categories of discipleship, I put myself firmly in the "Growing Christian" camp. I met the profile of the "True Convert", and I have amended my life in the past year or so since coming back to the Church to behave in a more Christ-like manner. This doesn't really sound bad, but when I'd read over the entire chart, I realized that last year I might have considered myself a "Disciple", meaning that I was sharing the Gospel message with others, and that I was willing to make any sacrifice for Christ. It was difficult to look at this chart and admit to myself that I appear to have regressed in my spiritual life as a result of the dryness I've been experiencing lately. It hurt to know that though I could not control the timing or severity of the dryness, I was still fully in control of how I reacted to it, and for the most part that has not been well.
When asked to share with a partner how we had evaluated ourselves, I told mine this and proceeded to admit additionally that because it looks to me like I've been regressing from a spiritual high point, it's been excruciatingly difficult to face myself, my spiritual director, and God. I cannot help but feel as if this backsliding has been mostly my fault, and so I don't want to have to face myself and admit what seems like a defeat of sorts. My spiritual director also knows that last year was a high point for me, and he was always happy to prudently encourage me to grow in grace and faith as well as self-discipline, a quality I still need to work toward achieving. This year, however, my struggles in prayer and faith and my inability to do much of anything about them have made me want to talk to him about my situation less and less, because I know that if I were him, I would be disappointed about what has happened in my spiritual life. Much like everyone else, I hate disappointing people I admire, especially those who challenge me to grow because they have faith in me. Finally, I find it nearly impossible to face Christ, who has given me more than any human could repay, even given infinite resources and eternity to do so. To me, this regression is akin to failure, as if I could have done something to prevent it and I was either too obtuse or lazy to do it, and so I feel like I have disappointed Christ, who never abandoned me.
Thankfully, though, part and parcel of discipleship is taking up one's crosses to follow Christ, and I listened to a few talks about the necessity of bearing hardships in order to bring others to know God, and to advance His Kingdom on earth. Most of the analogies in these talks were put in the perspective of a relationship, typically the speaker's relationship with his family. He would talk about how whether it be with his wife or his children, the essence of that relationship was loving the other person more than himself. Having to get up in the middle of the night to discover a toddler playing with all his toys and sipping on an espresso he learned to make himself, changing diapers almost constantly because of a baby's tummy troubles, even giving in when he and his wife disagree on some nonessential thing were all sacrifices he made for the other person in the relationship because he loves them and is willing to put their needs and desires before his own. Love for another person is not always an easy, pretty, or desirable thing, but if it were, it would not truly be love.
This I realized this morning as I was looking back over the night before. Just as at last year's FOCUS Conference, I broke down in Adoration. I had spent a few minutes with a prayer team, asking them to pray for me to receive any kind of consolation the Lord was willing to give, and I wished desperately that I could feel anything. I couldn't, and so when they were done praying over me, I returned to the area where I had been sitting and cried in front of the monstrance. The similarity to last year was not at all lost on me, and so I looked up at Jesus in the Eucharist and asked if this was going to be my experience. Was I to be relegated to spending some time each year weeping over my faith? Was this to be the substance of my discipleship? I desperately hoped not, but obviously could not answer. However, I said to Him, if this was going to be something He wanted me to do, then I would accept it, and ask in return only the strength to be able to cry when I had to and carry on following Him. It was not a freeing moment. In fact, it felt much more like resignation than anything else.
What hit me this morning was the fact that this is love. When I confided in one of the missionaries on the trip back to Washington, he mentioned that part of love is not loving the other as you wish to, but loving them as they need to be loved. Just as Christ desired Teresa of Avila to love Him through a white martyrdom of dying to self in contemplative life rather than the red martyrdom she so desperately wanted as a small child, perhaps He was telling me how He wanted me to love Him, and it didn't fit the way I wanted to love Him. Perhaps this wasn't necessarily a regression, but a teachable moment in both discipleship and relationship, albeit a painful one.
You see, what I didn't realize until this morning is that love is not the warm fuzzies you get at the beginning of a relationship. Love is a consistent and willing sacrifice of self for the good of the other. Love perseveres when it is difficult to do so, when it is inconvenient, when it is undesirable, when it hurts. Love does not take time off to seek itself, because it is a commitment. Love is something you work at day in and day out because you are never done loving. Each day is a choice to love again, even if you don't feel like it. This is a tough pill to swallow as a young woman who is essentially still a girl, but I assume that it's part of growing up to discover that things are not always how you want them to be. Like anything worth having or doing, love does not come easily, and you have to make a serious commitment if you want it to work.
This discovery did not end my dryness. I still have no indication of when or if it will end, and though that is frustrating, I am willing to accept it. I say all the time that I love God, and I suppose that now He is calling me out to prove it. It is not a pleasant experience, but it is a necessary one. I don't particularly like it, but I want the fruit I know it can bear. Given enough time, I imagine that I will receive some sort of consolation, and the missionary with whom I spoke informed me that because of what I'm going through now the consolation will not be or feel the same. As with any other relationship, this is one of the sacrifices I am called to make for my beloved, and I will do it. Jesus said that anyone who loved Him would keep His commands, and He commanded that if anyone desired to be His disciple, he should deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Him. I can't say it for certain, but I think that's what I'm trying to do. I think I'm trying to say, "Jesus, I love you."
One of the seminars I attended this weekend was about how to evangelize effectively on campus by being able to build relationships with people and assess where they are in their faith relationship and where they think they want to be, and where they think God is calling them to be. One of the tools we were given is called The Discipleship Road Map, which describes different stages in a person's spiritual life, where they are on the road of discipleship with Jesus. As a non student leader I don't anticipate finding this particularly useful for others, since I am not evangelizing in the same way the student leaders are, however, it did come in handy for a little bit of self-evaluation.
Initially, when we were asked to place ourselves in one of the categories of discipleship, I put myself firmly in the "Growing Christian" camp. I met the profile of the "True Convert", and I have amended my life in the past year or so since coming back to the Church to behave in a more Christ-like manner. This doesn't really sound bad, but when I'd read over the entire chart, I realized that last year I might have considered myself a "Disciple", meaning that I was sharing the Gospel message with others, and that I was willing to make any sacrifice for Christ. It was difficult to look at this chart and admit to myself that I appear to have regressed in my spiritual life as a result of the dryness I've been experiencing lately. It hurt to know that though I could not control the timing or severity of the dryness, I was still fully in control of how I reacted to it, and for the most part that has not been well.
When asked to share with a partner how we had evaluated ourselves, I told mine this and proceeded to admit additionally that because it looks to me like I've been regressing from a spiritual high point, it's been excruciatingly difficult to face myself, my spiritual director, and God. I cannot help but feel as if this backsliding has been mostly my fault, and so I don't want to have to face myself and admit what seems like a defeat of sorts. My spiritual director also knows that last year was a high point for me, and he was always happy to prudently encourage me to grow in grace and faith as well as self-discipline, a quality I still need to work toward achieving. This year, however, my struggles in prayer and faith and my inability to do much of anything about them have made me want to talk to him about my situation less and less, because I know that if I were him, I would be disappointed about what has happened in my spiritual life. Much like everyone else, I hate disappointing people I admire, especially those who challenge me to grow because they have faith in me. Finally, I find it nearly impossible to face Christ, who has given me more than any human could repay, even given infinite resources and eternity to do so. To me, this regression is akin to failure, as if I could have done something to prevent it and I was either too obtuse or lazy to do it, and so I feel like I have disappointed Christ, who never abandoned me.
Thankfully, though, part and parcel of discipleship is taking up one's crosses to follow Christ, and I listened to a few talks about the necessity of bearing hardships in order to bring others to know God, and to advance His Kingdom on earth. Most of the analogies in these talks were put in the perspective of a relationship, typically the speaker's relationship with his family. He would talk about how whether it be with his wife or his children, the essence of that relationship was loving the other person more than himself. Having to get up in the middle of the night to discover a toddler playing with all his toys and sipping on an espresso he learned to make himself, changing diapers almost constantly because of a baby's tummy troubles, even giving in when he and his wife disagree on some nonessential thing were all sacrifices he made for the other person in the relationship because he loves them and is willing to put their needs and desires before his own. Love for another person is not always an easy, pretty, or desirable thing, but if it were, it would not truly be love.
This I realized this morning as I was looking back over the night before. Just as at last year's FOCUS Conference, I broke down in Adoration. I had spent a few minutes with a prayer team, asking them to pray for me to receive any kind of consolation the Lord was willing to give, and I wished desperately that I could feel anything. I couldn't, and so when they were done praying over me, I returned to the area where I had been sitting and cried in front of the monstrance. The similarity to last year was not at all lost on me, and so I looked up at Jesus in the Eucharist and asked if this was going to be my experience. Was I to be relegated to spending some time each year weeping over my faith? Was this to be the substance of my discipleship? I desperately hoped not, but obviously could not answer. However, I said to Him, if this was going to be something He wanted me to do, then I would accept it, and ask in return only the strength to be able to cry when I had to and carry on following Him. It was not a freeing moment. In fact, it felt much more like resignation than anything else.
What hit me this morning was the fact that this is love. When I confided in one of the missionaries on the trip back to Washington, he mentioned that part of love is not loving the other as you wish to, but loving them as they need to be loved. Just as Christ desired Teresa of Avila to love Him through a white martyrdom of dying to self in contemplative life rather than the red martyrdom she so desperately wanted as a small child, perhaps He was telling me how He wanted me to love Him, and it didn't fit the way I wanted to love Him. Perhaps this wasn't necessarily a regression, but a teachable moment in both discipleship and relationship, albeit a painful one.
You see, what I didn't realize until this morning is that love is not the warm fuzzies you get at the beginning of a relationship. Love is a consistent and willing sacrifice of self for the good of the other. Love perseveres when it is difficult to do so, when it is inconvenient, when it is undesirable, when it hurts. Love does not take time off to seek itself, because it is a commitment. Love is something you work at day in and day out because you are never done loving. Each day is a choice to love again, even if you don't feel like it. This is a tough pill to swallow as a young woman who is essentially still a girl, but I assume that it's part of growing up to discover that things are not always how you want them to be. Like anything worth having or doing, love does not come easily, and you have to make a serious commitment if you want it to work.
This discovery did not end my dryness. I still have no indication of when or if it will end, and though that is frustrating, I am willing to accept it. I say all the time that I love God, and I suppose that now He is calling me out to prove it. It is not a pleasant experience, but it is a necessary one. I don't particularly like it, but I want the fruit I know it can bear. Given enough time, I imagine that I will receive some sort of consolation, and the missionary with whom I spoke informed me that because of what I'm going through now the consolation will not be or feel the same. As with any other relationship, this is one of the sacrifices I am called to make for my beloved, and I will do it. Jesus said that anyone who loved Him would keep His commands, and He commanded that if anyone desired to be His disciple, he should deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Him. I can't say it for certain, but I think that's what I'm trying to do. I think I'm trying to say, "Jesus, I love you."
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Rick Santorum is Anti-Abortion
Please stop. Stop running for president, stop talking in front of cameras and/or people, and please, for the love of all that is good, stop calling yourself pro-life. I'm serious, stop it.
Okay, now that I've gotten that out, please allow me to clarify what I mean. I know that in America people who oppose abortion are called pro-life. I am one of those people. However, there are a) more life issues than abortion, and b) lots of people who will take Santorum at his word, giving other pro-life folks a bad rep they don't deserve. I say this out of what remains of my political convictions, yes, but much more out of annoyance that because I call myself pro-life, I get judged by the same measure as Rick Santorum because he calls himself pro-life.
That Mr. Santorum calls himself pro-life needles me a lot for several reasons, not the least of which is that we are both Catholic and I have problems with regard to the sinful type of judging people. People like him, especially. Another reason is that, when I switched sides from being pro-choice to pro-life, I lost a lot of friends, and it became a major source of strain on my relationship with my parents. I don't take my position on any life issue lightly because I cannot afford to. I've staked a lot on these views, and so I've had to put a great deal of thought into why I hold them and how I can propose and defend them.
As I'm sure you all will no doubt have noticed, there are other issues dealt with in politics that are life or death. Euthanasia, which is often tied in with abortion in the "killing of an innocent" category, and the death penalty, which America is the only truly powerful nation in the West to employ still. Then there are more abstract matters, like war. By its very nature, people tend to die in wars. It's a function of the thing that when guns are fired or bombs dropped, people die, and they're almost never all enemy combatants. This is why the Church has what is called the Just War Doctrine, so that there is recourse for one people to fight another, but only when absolutely necessary. Just War Doctrine is extremely stringent, but this is in keeping with the Church's other teachings on the sanctity of life. Because life is sacred, the taking of it can never be considered a trivial thing.
What bothers me about Rick Santorum as he relates to the Just War Doctrine is that he has advocated publicly and in several instances that America bomb Iran because of its nuclear program, which continues to enrich Uranium for what the international community assumes is nuclear weaponry. While I personally think that it would be a travesty for a nation as radical and seemingly unstable as Iran to have a nuclear arsenal, I also think that bombing them (at least at this point in time) is a terrible idea and in violation of the Just War Doctrine. I don't think that it's a good thing for any other Republican candidates to favor this "solution" either, but the point is that Rick Santorum touts himself as the pro-life candidate, and makes a rather glib assertion that we should simply bomb Iran to force them to stop trying to get nuclear weapons. I understand that especially now, as Iran is thumbing its nose at the rest of the world over enriching Uranium, we need to find an effective way to deal with them, but bombing a country even outside the parameters of war still kills people.
I have serious qualms about any person saying that we should bomb any country for any but the most extreme reasons. There are better ways to solve problems between nations, and I think that many times military force is a cop-out. It's an easy "solution" to an issue that would take a long time and probably a lot of cooperation to work out, except that force rarely solves anything (see Germany post-WWI). I have even more serious qualms about a person running for any public office, let alone the most powerful office in the world, taking the view that we should just drop bombs on a country to force them to do what we want them to and call it a day. There are other options on the table for dealing with Iran, and we should exhaust those first. I would expect a Catholic politician whose biggest boast is how pro-life he is to consider that much more carefully than Mr. Santorum seems to have done.
I'm sick of people assuming that because there is a common factor linking me to Rick Santorum that I'm just like he is. I'm not. Sure people judge him, it would be irresponsible not to scrutinize a presidential hopeful before deciding whether or not to vote for him. But the judgement he receives is not from those closest to him, it's from the general public. On the other hand, the judgement I receive is from my family and closest friends, with some of whom I cannot afford to jeopardize my relationship any more, though I have been blessed with many who support and understand me, even if they don't agree.
Please Rick, stop telling people you are pro-life. At the risk of sounding way more arrogant than I mean to, I am pro-life, you need to go back to the drawing board. I am tired of being mocked and called a hypocrite because you can't be bothered to tell people you're anti-abortion. I think you mean well, but you're creating a lot of trouble for people who want to be associated with the right to life without being associated with you.
Okay, now that I've gotten that out, please allow me to clarify what I mean. I know that in America people who oppose abortion are called pro-life. I am one of those people. However, there are a) more life issues than abortion, and b) lots of people who will take Santorum at his word, giving other pro-life folks a bad rep they don't deserve. I say this out of what remains of my political convictions, yes, but much more out of annoyance that because I call myself pro-life, I get judged by the same measure as Rick Santorum because he calls himself pro-life.
That Mr. Santorum calls himself pro-life needles me a lot for several reasons, not the least of which is that we are both Catholic and I have problems with regard to the sinful type of judging people. People like him, especially. Another reason is that, when I switched sides from being pro-choice to pro-life, I lost a lot of friends, and it became a major source of strain on my relationship with my parents. I don't take my position on any life issue lightly because I cannot afford to. I've staked a lot on these views, and so I've had to put a great deal of thought into why I hold them and how I can propose and defend them.
As I'm sure you all will no doubt have noticed, there are other issues dealt with in politics that are life or death. Euthanasia, which is often tied in with abortion in the "killing of an innocent" category, and the death penalty, which America is the only truly powerful nation in the West to employ still. Then there are more abstract matters, like war. By its very nature, people tend to die in wars. It's a function of the thing that when guns are fired or bombs dropped, people die, and they're almost never all enemy combatants. This is why the Church has what is called the Just War Doctrine, so that there is recourse for one people to fight another, but only when absolutely necessary. Just War Doctrine is extremely stringent, but this is in keeping with the Church's other teachings on the sanctity of life. Because life is sacred, the taking of it can never be considered a trivial thing.
What bothers me about Rick Santorum as he relates to the Just War Doctrine is that he has advocated publicly and in several instances that America bomb Iran because of its nuclear program, which continues to enrich Uranium for what the international community assumes is nuclear weaponry. While I personally think that it would be a travesty for a nation as radical and seemingly unstable as Iran to have a nuclear arsenal, I also think that bombing them (at least at this point in time) is a terrible idea and in violation of the Just War Doctrine. I don't think that it's a good thing for any other Republican candidates to favor this "solution" either, but the point is that Rick Santorum touts himself as the pro-life candidate, and makes a rather glib assertion that we should simply bomb Iran to force them to stop trying to get nuclear weapons. I understand that especially now, as Iran is thumbing its nose at the rest of the world over enriching Uranium, we need to find an effective way to deal with them, but bombing a country even outside the parameters of war still kills people.
I have serious qualms about any person saying that we should bomb any country for any but the most extreme reasons. There are better ways to solve problems between nations, and I think that many times military force is a cop-out. It's an easy "solution" to an issue that would take a long time and probably a lot of cooperation to work out, except that force rarely solves anything (see Germany post-WWI). I have even more serious qualms about a person running for any public office, let alone the most powerful office in the world, taking the view that we should just drop bombs on a country to force them to do what we want them to and call it a day. There are other options on the table for dealing with Iran, and we should exhaust those first. I would expect a Catholic politician whose biggest boast is how pro-life he is to consider that much more carefully than Mr. Santorum seems to have done.
I'm sick of people assuming that because there is a common factor linking me to Rick Santorum that I'm just like he is. I'm not. Sure people judge him, it would be irresponsible not to scrutinize a presidential hopeful before deciding whether or not to vote for him. But the judgement he receives is not from those closest to him, it's from the general public. On the other hand, the judgement I receive is from my family and closest friends, with some of whom I cannot afford to jeopardize my relationship any more, though I have been blessed with many who support and understand me, even if they don't agree.
Please Rick, stop telling people you are pro-life. At the risk of sounding way more arrogant than I mean to, I am pro-life, you need to go back to the drawing board. I am tired of being mocked and called a hypocrite because you can't be bothered to tell people you're anti-abortion. I think you mean well, but you're creating a lot of trouble for people who want to be associated with the right to life without being associated with you.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Spiritual Dry Spells
I have no idea how to start this post. I think this is about the fifth try at a second sentence, and pathetic as it is, I'm going to keep it this time. Over the past few months I've been going through a spiritual dry spell, much like my fabulous blogger friend Liesl over at The Spiritual Workout wrote about a little while back (I highly recommend reading the blog- she's a better writer than I am, and much less annoying). Although I don't think our spiritual struggles are the same, I've wanted to write about my dry spell for some time, and the strength and courage Liesl showed in person and in writing throughout much of that time has inspired me to try once more to write about mine.
I'm not sure when my dry spell began or why, so I won't bore anyone by forcing them to read my attempts at working that out here, but I do know that it's the second big, nagging issue in my spiritual life. Other than my relationship with my parents, it's the spiritual event (for lack of a better word) that has done the most to color my entire life for the relatively short time it's been going on. It's effected almost all the relationships I have, and without even being aware of it sometimes, I've allowed it to twist me into someone almost completely different. It's the strangest thing, but I occasionally feel like I've become a stranger to myself, and unfortunately I've sort of estranged myself from a lot of the people who would be most likely to support me.
If you were reading the blog earlier this school year, then you know that this was supposed to be the year for me to discern my call to holiness. Clearly I've gotten a little bit sidetracked from that. Heck, last year I almost thought I knew my vocation and now I almost forget that I know the word. This time that was supposed to be set aside for discernment has mostly been a time of slipping backwards, and I'm not pleased about that. On the flip side, it has allowed me to see a ton of growth in other people, and if I couldn't do it, I'm proud of my friends for being able to. I'm glad that somebody was able to advance (several somebodies, in fact), and do so in spectacular fashion.
Thankfully, I think this break has been beneficial for me, spiritually and emotionally. I know that the dry spell might not be over by the time the new semester starts, and even if it is, I'll have a lot of work to do to get myself back to where I was in August and September. A couple of big differences are that this time last year, I had a busy January with the FOCUS Conference and several other events, which transitioned into a hectic February with the beginning of my consecration to Mary and several unpleasant surprises. It's not that those things can't happen again (though I hope some of them don't), but that having had all of them happen once, at least I can be prepared if they do. Also, I've been attempting to grow in discipline on my own, so that hopefully I can keep that going during the semester when I'll likely need it more.
Wow. It's been a long time since I wrote here, and I'm so glad to have finally finished a post again. It wasn't my best, for sure, but it's something. I promise next time will be better, and I'm sorry it took so long for this time to happen. Unless, of course, you were enjoying this break from my insane ramblings, in which case I'm sorry it wasn't longer. If anyone has advice on weathering spiritual struggles, I would love to hear it, and I'm open to more or less anything.
P.S. I'm sorry to everyone who had to put up with me in person this past semester, I promise I'll be trying harder not to be insufferable for this coming one, and thanks for sticking by me, you'll never know how much it means. :)
I'm not sure when my dry spell began or why, so I won't bore anyone by forcing them to read my attempts at working that out here, but I do know that it's the second big, nagging issue in my spiritual life. Other than my relationship with my parents, it's the spiritual event (for lack of a better word) that has done the most to color my entire life for the relatively short time it's been going on. It's effected almost all the relationships I have, and without even being aware of it sometimes, I've allowed it to twist me into someone almost completely different. It's the strangest thing, but I occasionally feel like I've become a stranger to myself, and unfortunately I've sort of estranged myself from a lot of the people who would be most likely to support me.
If you were reading the blog earlier this school year, then you know that this was supposed to be the year for me to discern my call to holiness. Clearly I've gotten a little bit sidetracked from that. Heck, last year I almost thought I knew my vocation and now I almost forget that I know the word. This time that was supposed to be set aside for discernment has mostly been a time of slipping backwards, and I'm not pleased about that. On the flip side, it has allowed me to see a ton of growth in other people, and if I couldn't do it, I'm proud of my friends for being able to. I'm glad that somebody was able to advance (several somebodies, in fact), and do so in spectacular fashion.
Thankfully, I think this break has been beneficial for me, spiritually and emotionally. I know that the dry spell might not be over by the time the new semester starts, and even if it is, I'll have a lot of work to do to get myself back to where I was in August and September. A couple of big differences are that this time last year, I had a busy January with the FOCUS Conference and several other events, which transitioned into a hectic February with the beginning of my consecration to Mary and several unpleasant surprises. It's not that those things can't happen again (though I hope some of them don't), but that having had all of them happen once, at least I can be prepared if they do. Also, I've been attempting to grow in discipline on my own, so that hopefully I can keep that going during the semester when I'll likely need it more.
Wow. It's been a long time since I wrote here, and I'm so glad to have finally finished a post again. It wasn't my best, for sure, but it's something. I promise next time will be better, and I'm sorry it took so long for this time to happen. Unless, of course, you were enjoying this break from my insane ramblings, in which case I'm sorry it wasn't longer. If anyone has advice on weathering spiritual struggles, I would love to hear it, and I'm open to more or less anything.
P.S. I'm sorry to everyone who had to put up with me in person this past semester, I promise I'll be trying harder not to be insufferable for this coming one, and thanks for sticking by me, you'll never know how much it means. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)