She Wonders

Last night I wrote on the last page of a journal I have used sporadically since college. As I flip back through the pages, I smile, laugh, tear up, shake my head, and remember. I remember the girl I was - the girl who expressed so much of her heart on those pages.

That girl is now five years older than the days of the first entries. In many ways she has lived moments she could never have guessed at. And today, she wonders.

She wonders if that girl would have been delighted to know the now.

She wonders if the wisdom of those days long gone has been well used on the journey.

She wonders if five years from now these moments being lived will make more sense, be seen more clearly.

And in the midst of all that wonder, she tries to muster up the courage and strength to surrender. To gather up all of the unfinished story-lines, the unfulfilled hopes, the undetected graces and to place them all into the hands of the Father.

She sits, slowly breathing in and out, and reflects on the life lived. She feels the hurts, delights in the joys, and guesses at the future.

She knows with certainty that she is loved by the God who does not need to guess at the meaning and the purpose.

She asks herself the question found in many forms throughout the pages of the journal she closes and sets back on the shelf.

Will she trust God?  Does she love him as he asks her to?  Does she trust that his grace is sufficient?

Is this life being lived for him?

I Gain Nothing

"No," I said to no one in particular as I closed my Bible and set it on the floor.  ...Okay, maybe I was saying it to God...

"No," I said again, "I'm not interested in meditating on You loving and serving us."

Let me back up a minute.  Just before Lent started, I commited to a new method of praying with scripture. I made a list of the major "action" moments of Jesus' life from John's Gospel, and I've been working my way through the list.

Next up on the list: The Washing of the Disciples' Feet.

Now, back to the story...

I realized a couple of days ago that I'm really, totally, and completely kind of mad at God.  I feel like I've honestly given myself to Him.  I know I took a courageous leap of surrender by leaving my 2nd grade teaching job and coming to Springfield.  And even though I had no real expectations for what this journey would bring, I did expect that it would become something.

It doesn't seem like it has. I feel abandoned and forgotten.

This morning, I woke up to a text from a friend happily declaring that God is so good.  The text went on to describe the reasons why. I found myself thinking, "Of course. Because you aren't me, and God is willing to bring good things into your life."

Earlier this afternoon, I got a text from another friend asking for prayers.  My prayer was something along these lines: "God, please bring good things into _____'s life. Don't treat her the way You treat me. Let her be holy and HAPPY."

...did I mention that I'm kind of mad at God?

At one point, I even went so far as to let God know that I think He is taking advantage of the fact that He knows I won't walk away. This God thing - this faithful Catholic life thing- I'm all in.

Here's the truth of the matter though. We have to live the victory.

God does love me.  He does bring good things into my life. He doesn't do everything the way I would, but that is the biggest blessing He gives us.  Because He can see perfectly. His ways are best.

Does that suck sometimes?  Yes.  But only because we are human. 
Does it hurt like crazy sometimes? Yes.  But only because we are being made holy.
Does it look unreasonable and unfair sometimes? Yes.  But only because Satan is constantly clouding our vision.

Today, I'm standing at a crossroads.  I have a choice to make.  I can stand up, trust God to build the Kingdom with my suffering, and LIVE like I'm all in.  Or, I can continue about my life with my arms crossed in stubbornness, pretending like God owes me the life I envision for myself.

What do I want to do?  I want to be stubborn.  I want to wait and try to force God's hand.  I want to throw a mini-temper tantrum until He gives in.

But I gain nothing by holding on.

I gain nothing, but Satan wins.

I don't want to be someone who hands Satan a win.

So what am I going to do?

Well, first of all I'm going to pray that scripture I said no to this morning.  And I'm going to meditate on God made flesh kneeling before His Church -before me- and humbly and lovingly serving.

And I'm going to choose to trust that Jesus.  I will choose to trust that He is building.

Because I gain nothing by holding on.

Learning Lessons

My life doesn't always look the way I think it should. It doesn't always look the way I want it to.

January was a challenging month and a dramatic time to be inside my prayer life.  You see, God isn't giving me something that I thought He would give me.  And He isn't really telling me why He won't give it to me.

He doesn't have to.

But I really, really, really want Him to.

As I've journeyed through this time, I've asked Him a lot of questions.

I've fasted.

I've cried.

I've prayed novenas.

I've kicked and screamed at Heaven.

I've been to daily mass and to Reconciliation.

I've blamed Saints.

I've mediated on Scripture.

I've journaled and journaled and journaled.

I've tried praying through it; I've tried not thinking about it.

I've talked and talked about it.

I've read books. I've painted. I've rearranged furniture. I've made lesson plans. I've cleaned. I've graded papers. I've spent time listening to friends tell me about their lives.

No matter what I've done or intentionally not done, my soul has struggled and my heart has hurt.

I hate when people spill out their personal lives online. I also hate when bloggers are so vague that I'm left super curious about what is happening in their lives.  Here's to me finding a virtuous balance in this post...

There is a person in my life who has undoubtedly brought me closer to God. This person has been there for me in some hard moments and has made me laugh when I've least expected to laugh. The two of us have been through a lot together, and we've been in each others' lives through a lot of individual journeys.

Together, we've worked hard to serve God, argued about theological things, and tried to figure out God's will and how best we can love Him.

And over the years, throughout all of that, we've tried to find the place for each other in our lives.

It's been hard. It's looked like a lot of different things at a lot of different times.

January was all about me learning to accept, once again, that I still don't have it figured out.

What I've learned this time around though, is something that I hope I never forget. Because as so much of my life has been clouded by this confusion, one thing has become more clear, more real, and more present in my life.

God exists.  He is indescribably real and present.

Throughout this time, I've questioned a lot of things and run through countless scenarios. The only thing that has been constant is the reality of who God is.

Somehow, when I look at Him - really look at Him, all of the confusion and turmoil and frustration and absolute annoyance fade ... just enough for me to really know that God loves me.  And that the beauty and simplicity of who He is in my life, of who I am in His eyes, is more than enough to sustain me.

It doesn't take away all that I'm feeling inside.

It doesn't silence all the thoughts and possibilities running through my mind.

Do I like the way this situation looks now? ...Well...no... I don't.
Do I understand why it is the way it is?  Do I understand what God is doing? No. Not at all.

But my point is, maybe that's how it's supposed to be right now.  Maybe I'm not in this place to learn a lesson in discernment or in God's ways.

Maybe I'm just supposed to be learning lessons in God.  Maybe I'm just supposed to learn that He is enough.  Not because my life is a perfectly wrapped package.  Not because I've finally found the instruction manual.  Just because He is a constant light. A consistent love. A never-ending source of grace and goodness.

Even when my world is not what I want it to be, when it would be so easy and so natural to just fall away, He is exactly what I need: the Source that sustains me.

Journey

It's so easy to forget that this life is a journey - a journey with more meaning that we can't see than meaning that we can.

It's so easy to fall into comfortable. Safe. Familiar.

It's so easy to forget that God is constantly calling us to become more like Him.

Sometimes we need moments in our lives that are so unexpected, so unpredictable that they spin our world around and turn it upside down in the most perfect way - the way that shows us that God is working.  God is calling.

I came across a quote in my meditation recently: "We should not be surprised if, when we embrace obedience, we find the Cross."

As I've pondered that deeply in my heart, I've come to realize a temptation within myself to think that if I only manage to be obedient God will bring about the things that I want.  I find myself believing that nothing unexpected should come my way because I've been listening and obeying.

But, obedience often leads us to the Cross.  That's how it was for Jesus.

Here's the thing about the Cross. If we look at it through our own eyes, it looks like we've been defeated.  It looks like the end of what should have been a much longer, much better story.  But when we look at the Cross through the eyes of faith, we something so much more.  We see it as an unexpected beginning, a continuation of a story that has more meaning than we can see in any single given moment.

And that Cross?  It calls us to change.  It shakes us from our comfort, our safety, our familiar. It demands that we see love differently.  It demands that we see life differently.  It demands that we trust God's power and glory in the unexpected.

It's easy to forget that this life is a constant, meaningful, and ever-changing journey.  Easy to forget that is, until we arrive at the Cross.