Tag Archives: Bible

Identify Your Weakness

A few days ago I wrote about the difference between losing something and giving something. In particular, I wrote about how losing something can be quite scary, but giving isn’t. I wrote about this in regards to what it means to give my life to Jesus. I mentioned in my post that what bothers Him most is when people don’t appreciate His sacrifice and all He’s given us. What also really bothers Him, as He revealed to several saints is when people simply don’t trust Him. I read about this in “Consoling the Heart of Jesus,” as I mentioned in my previous post. Practically, to trust the Lord means to praise and thank Him, and to carry our crosses with Him.

What I didn’t write about in my previous post was something I realized earlier this week. Jesus said to come to Him as we are, sins and all. He loves us no matter what, and that love doesn’t waver or change. He doesn’t love us any less when we mess up, even if we seriously mess up. What I realized early this week was that I wasn’t trusting Him. I’ve been afraid of some things, and I hadn’t been willing to let Him take care of them.

My parents bought a house in Maine a couple of years ago. At first it looked like a fun project. The house was basically an empty shell, infested with rodents, and was about to fall down. Over the past two years, my parents, through my mom’s cousin, who is a contractor and carpenter, have been restoring it. Why am I afraid of it all of a sudden? My dad will be retiring in ten years or so. What if my parents want to permanently move to middle-of-nowhere Maine? I don’t drive, and the only people I know up there are some extended family members and my Godparents.

What’s more is my parents are in their fifties. What will happen when they’re too old to take care of my physical needs?

My best friend and my brother are graduating from college this year. That makes me nervous because two of my cousins, who I used to hang out with quite often, moved quite far away after graduating. I don’t want to lose my friend and my brother. I’m an introvert, and honestly, making new friends isn’t the easiest thing for me. To be clear, I have made new friends, but they’re not like the friendships I’ve had since childhood.

Just last fall I joined the Carmelite community in Danvers. I’m tied to my parents. Though we only meet once a month, I don’t want to fall into a situation where I can’t go to the meetings anymore. Sure, I might be able to keep pursuing the spirituality on my own, but I love that community.

Soon I’ll be releasing my second album. I’ve put a lot of effort, and a lot of prayer into these songs. We pray before every session, and I mean it when I say that I want my music to be for God’s glory. I think just recently, the worry has come to my mind: “what if no one hears this stuff?”

These worries started with what things might look like once the house was finished. My first mistake was not talking to God about it in the first place. It just escalated from there. I went to confession on Thursday, and talked to our priest about it. I told him that I was really sorry for not trusting Jesus, and I said, “I’m just… I’m just afraid…” He interrupted me. He said, “You’re afraid of the future. That’s normal.” He said to remember the story of the prodigal son. Normally people think about the younger brother who squandered everything, but came back repentant, or the older brother who was faithful to his father, but was resentful of his father’s love for his brother. People don’t think enough about the father. The father loved both his kids, but was especially merciful to his younger son because he was more in need of that mercy.

That’s how God is. I was seriously sorry for not trusting Him, in light of what I have recently learned. I also know that, in confession, the priest is acting and speaking for Jesus. He told me to look up the “serenity prayer.” Most people know part of it. “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” There’s a whole other part, though.

The serenity prayer in its entirety goes as follows: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference; living one day at a time, enjoying each moment at a time; accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; taking, as He (Jesus) did, this sinful world, as it is, not as I would have it; trusting that He will make all things right, if I surrender to His will; that I may be reasonably happy in this life, and supremely happy with Him forever in the next. Amen.”

He told me to look this up when I left confession. He also said, “You’re wearing Mary’s medal. Ask your Mother for help.” Mary is Jesus’ mom, but she’s also my spiritual mom. I forget that sometimes. Most of the time, I pray to my Brother. Jesus is my Brother because, through baptism, I am God’s daughter. I also usually pray to Jesus, however, because He knows what being human is like. He knows what it feels like to lose friends. He knows what it feels like to be scared.

After confession, I lurked in the church for a bit since, during Lent, Adoration is available at my home parish, and there were some people there praying the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary, so I did that with them. Then I went to the Studio since my studio time is always on Thursday nights. I was still in a bad mood on the way there, and I was planning on just working on editing. We have to get it done at some point, anyway. That’s not what we ended up doing. We pray to start our sessions, and I ended up spilling the beans. I mentioned inadvertently that I had been in a bad mood on the way there, and because he’s nice, he asked, and I couldn’t really help telling Ken why. Then I somehow figured something out. I said, “I think the Devil is screwing with me.” We prayed about that, too, but instead of spending the time editing, we started working on something else.

On my new album there will be a remix of a single I released a few years ago. The chorus goes as follows, “This is a song to sing in the dark/ This is enough, a spark to start a fire/ This is a prayer you answer with love/ ‘Cause you are God, and you are with us.” The original is about as simple as you can get: acoustic guitar, bass, and shaker for percussion. The remix will be a full-on ’90’s style rock version. I was planning on just working on editing because I was feeling deflated; defeated that night. God had other plans. He gave me a song to sing in the dark. Ken played guitar loudly, and even though my voice was kind of dead, I belted the words I had written years prior. “You let us know you’re listening/ So we sing for joy/ Because you are good, Lord/ We sing.”

I’ve recently become more acquainted with the psalms as I’ve been praying a handful of them every day for several months. Though I had not been thinking of it when I wrote the song, Psalm 139 comes to mind; in particular, verses 11-12 go as follows. “If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me and the light around me become night,’ even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you.” Nothing can hide us from God’s love. I repented, and He renewed my song to sing in the dark. He made it louder.

What I’ve learned from this is that it’s important to identify our weaknesses and give them to God, because if we don’t give them to God, the Devil can exploit them. Admitting we have weaknesses is not fun. I’m the kind of person who likes to be a hero. I like to pretend I’m invincible. Then, when it turns out I’m not, two things can happen. Either, I can let God have my weakness and take care of it, or I can try to take control of something I have no control over, and when I fail, beat myself up about it, or worse, let the Devil beat me up about it.

What are my weaknesses? To start, physical stuff: what most call “disabilities.” Fear of failure, and fear of the future are two big ones for me. Fear of isolation pops up sometimes. Confidence, or lack-there-of is also sometimes an issue. Jesus said that to be his disciples, we had to carry our crosses. Nobody’s crosses look exactly the same. Jesus had Simon to help carry His cross. We have Jesus Himself to help carry ours. In the Stations of the Cross, we reflect that Jesus fell three times. He actually couldn’t carry the cross entirely on His own. If He couldn’t, we certainly can’t. That’s where trust comes in.

Fear of the future, or maybe just “the unknown” is probably my heaviest load, and it’s probably the thing I have the most trouble letting Him help with. The craziest thing is, God often doesn’t help unless we give Him permission. He wants to help, but sometimes we don’t let Him. A lot of times we don’t let Him. I try to remember in our prayer at the studio to say, “Lord, where we need to get out of the way and let you do the work, just get us out of the way.” This Thursday, I was intending to wallow in what I thought was defeat and just do the boring but necessary work of audio editing. That wasn’t what was immediately necessary. What was apparently necessary at the moment was a song to sing in the dark. God got me out of the way and gave me that. Maybe it’s just a spark, but God can start a fire with just a spark.

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Eyes That Speak

There’s a part of me that can’t help feeling bad for Judas. For a long time, I just hated him. Jesus has taught me about His mercy, and because of that, I can’t help feeling bad for a man who did a really terrible thing, but who still could have received that mercy. Earlier today I was thinking about when Peter denied knowing Jesus. He hadn’t meant to, but he looked Jesus in the eye after doing so, and I’m convinced that His eyes spoke to him. I’m convinced that those eyes said “I told you you’d deny Me. I forgive you.” I know that those eyes would have said the exact same thing to Judas had he been there, but I’m not convinced that Judas would have believed it.

The reason my attitude towards Judas has changed is that I’ve realized that I face a similar struggle as he did, only to a lesser degree. Judas did a selfish thing and betrayed a friend. Then he was utterly ashamed of what he did and became convinced that he was unlovable and irredeemable. Last night I read the part in John where Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves Him. It didn’t speak to me, but when I went back, and sort of “read” those eyes, those eyes spoke to me. Those eyes said to me, “You are never too messy for Me to love.” I needed those eyes to tell me that.

I’ve been listening to a podcast called “Catholic Stuff You Should Know,” which if you’re Catholic and nerdy, is just absolutely perfect. I stayed up ludicrously late listening to it last night, and one of the topics that was discussed were the theological virtues of faith hope and love. They talked about how each virtue has a vice that goes along with it, and how every person generally falls into a category of being strong in one virtue/vice, and really struggles with another. They said you basically have to “self-diagnose” to know where you fall, but my diagnosis is that I struggle with hope/despair, but am very strong in love/pride. It seems obvious that despair is the opposite of hope, but they explained that pride is the opposite of love, and not hate, because hate is a kind of disordered love, whereas pride is a cold indifference.

As I said, I struggle with hope/despair, and I think Judas went to the absolute negative extreme of this struggle. I don’t struggle with faith. Faith is about trust, but it’s also about maintaining an honest, ongoing relationship with God, too, and I think because I struggle with hope, I don’t have trouble being honest with Him. It doesn’t help that I’m a perfectionist. Even if it’s subconscious, my temptation is to believe that I can or even have to live up to a certain standard; that I can reach perfection on my own. I do know that I need His grace, but the truth is, sometimes I don’t want to admit I need it, and sometimes I’m hesitant to ask for it. Asking for mercy is still kind of nerve-wracking.

Obviously I didn’t see Jesus’ eyes when he inaudibly forgave Peter in the Bible passage I read today, but His eyes said something to me today. I have trouble forgiving myself even after I’ve gone to confession. I think those eyes said to me, “I’ve forgiven you. Now forgive yourself.” Sometimes I have to remind myself that Jesus is my King, so I’m going to take that as an order. I think it’s important to think about the things Jesus conveyed in his actions, and just the way he looked at people, and not just reduce Him to words. No one is as simple as even the most complicated things they say.

No Normal

I’m starting work (meaning working on my book) late today for two reasons. I had to take care of some other stuff, which is now done, and because my dad is traveling for work this week, which my schedule is more adjustable, anyway. I wasn’t intending to write a blog post, but in the course of doing my things that needed to get done, I came across this quote:

“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”

Last night I came to the conclusion that while there is stability sometimes, there is no “normal.” In the past year, I’ve had to adjust to a “new normal” several times. This concept really solidified in my mind after Vermont’s funeral. At the time I had a desperate, but hopeful thought that eventually things would go “back to normal.” Then it hit me that they wouldn’t. Our family would have to adjust to a new normal. On a happier note, my brother is finishing his Bachelor’s degree this year, and will be commuting to school to get his Master’s (because he’s actually a genius). Finally all of our friends will be at home, generally at the same time. It will almost be like when we were kids. It will almost be like going back to what was normal for so many years.

Except it won’t. I still don’t know exactly what the future holds, but I’ve been trying to get in touch with a Secular Institute, which is a kind of religious organization that, in this particular case, helps people with disabilities, like myself, consecrate themselves entirely to God. I can’t entirely truthfully say that I don’t care about the consequences. I’m going to pursue this no matter the cost, but I don’t know how my friends will react. I want them to know that I’m still a total nerd and weirdo who will continue to play fantasy games with them. The only difference is that I’m officially making an unbreakable commitment to God. That will be a new normal for everyone to get used to, including myself.

I brought up the quote at the beginning of this post because I decided to do my “spiritual stuff” before work instead of after work today. Part of that “spiritual stuff” is just making sure I read something from Scripture. I had an idea of what I was going to read, but when I went to the website I usually use to read the Bible, this was the “verse of the day,” and for some reason, it sunk in deep, and it seemed like I just needed to leave it at that and think about it.

I do pray a lot. It’s often just conversational. The first part, “Rejoice always,” however, is difficult for me. It’s not about an emotional kind of joy. It’s about knowing, and being satisfied with the fact that Jesus saved us. That is always worth celebrating, even if whatever “new normal” we’re in is complicated, or weird, or even painful. The Gospel reading for this weekend was about when Jesus says to his apostles, “I no longer call you slaves, I call you friends.” Our priest explained that he said this to prepare them for what was about to happen. Before we are saved, we are slaves to sin. Jesus bought our freedom at a price.

At first, As I got to know Jesus, whenever I thought about that steep price, my response was always, “I’m sorry.” He’s had to teach me that I’m worth that to him, and because I’m worth that to him, I am objectively worth it. With his help, my response has changed to, “Thank you.” The fact of the matter is, my God intimidates me. The idea that anyone would go that far for me is insane, but the idea that the God of the Universe would go that far is both baffling and kind of scary.

I have to remind myself that God’s power is in his love. Jesus says in the Gospel that he is gentle and humble of heart. Saint Paul says that love is tender and kind. Sometimes the “new normal” sucks, but God is faithful. He is only ever good. If there is nothing else to be thankful for, remember that you’re still breathing; remember that you’re heart is till beating; remember that you’re alive; remember that the God of the universe wants to know you. That is something to be thankful for.

Weakness

We don’t like weakness. We especially don’t like our own weaknesses. We pray that God will take them away, and sometimes he does, but a lot of times, he says “I have something better in mind.” Saint Paul begged God to take away the thorn in his side, whatever that might have been, and God told him, “My grace is enough.” So often we find ourselves asking God, “Can’t you just make this easier?” Maybe when we don’t get a clear response it’s because his answer is the same in the twenty-first century as it was in the first.

God chooses the weak and the messy. Think about his twelve apostles. They weren’t perfect by any standards. Ten abandoned him when he needed them most. One sold him out altogether. Only one stood by him at the cross (and there’s a theory that this may have been Lazarus, and not John the apostle). Later, he chased down Saul, a nasty persecutor of Christians, and asked him–didn’t make him, but asked him–to be his apostle to the Gentiles. If it weren’t for Saint Paul, we wouldn’t have most of the New Testament. He consistently chooses the least likely people to do his work.

He consistently chooses the uneducated, the humble, the simple, the sorrowful, the weak, to show the world that his ways are not our ways. That actually kind of freaks me out. What does that actually mean for me? I want to be a saint. I don’t say that lightly. I really do. That means really figuring out my weaknesses. I know what some of them are, and I don’t like them. The fact of the matter is, though that saints embrace their weaknesses. Jesus embraced human weakness. The fact that God decided to take on a human body that could get sick, and feel sorrow, and get hurt, and die, is insane. Still, he embraced that human weakness out of love.

Not many people know this about me, but I flipped upside-down before I was born. My mom was carrying me around so my head was upright. They were going to have to do surgery, but somehow I “miraculously” flipped back around so I could come out naturally. When I was about a year old, around the time I should have been learning to walk, I wasn’t, so a tiny piece of muscle was taken from my leg, and they figured out that I have MD. I wasn’t supposed to live passed the age of five. In fact, the likelihood of my even existing were very slim. Both of my parents somehow had the same defective gene that meant my body would be “weird.”

At times I have celebrated it, and at times, I have resented it. Had my body been “normal,” I probably would have played sports. I probably would have had very different friends and different interests. I also probably wouldn’t have figured out how to play guitar upside-down. I probably wouldn’t paint abstract pictures or make abstract mosaics. I probably wouldn’t have become an author, and I probably wouldn’t have come very close to God. I probably would have gone to a secular school half way across the country to get away from the boring suburban town I live in, and I may have lost my faith altogether. Instead, I went to Gordon, a small Christian school within driving distance of my house, so my mom could get me to my classes and then home. It was there that I learned that, not only does God notice my existence, but he loves me. It was also there that I learned nearly everything I know about writing. God’s love, reading, time, and failures have taught me the rest.

Yesterday’s post was about trust. I wrote about how God chooses to trust untrustworthy people. He’s made it quite clear to me that he loves me. Trusting someone with your love is a pretty big deal. Both of the priests at my church know that I think God is calling me to religious life. I asked one of them: “Why does God choose who he does? I mean, why would he choose me? There’s nothing special about me.” He effectively said, “I don’t know.” I know my weaknesses. I also know my strengths. I have physical weaknesses and I’m a sinner. I also deal with a few leftover insecurities from when I was a kid, but I know how to manage that stuff. I’m not just a writer; I’m a good writer, and I know that. I’m loyal. I know how to prioritize, and how to manage my time, even though I fail to do this as I should sometimes. The point is, I’m human, and so are you. For the remainder of Holy Week, this is my advice, from one messy human to the next: look at your weaknesses, and try to see them as God sees them; let him use them for his glory. Write about it, sing about it, cry about it, scream about it, and especially, pray about it because sometimes our weaknesses end up being our strengths.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Learning How To Run

It was either New Year’s Day or the day after that I decided what my New Year’s resolution would be. I decided that I would try to share a blue diamond with someone every day. A blue diamond is, metaphorically, in my mind, something that can make even just a moment a little better than it otherwise would have been. I decided on this because God has shared countless blue diamonds with me. I use this metaphor because of something that happened last September, which you can read about here. I decided on this because I’ve come to understand that God can take any tiny little nugget of faith, or any loving action, and turn it into something powerful and effective. The thing is, my resolution was that would share blue diamonds, but I’m finding that more difficult than I anticipated, so I’ve changed my tune a little bit. My new resolution is that I’ll share blue diamonds if I have them, but when I don’t, I’ll offer God my nuggets, and he can share blue diamonds.

When I woke up this morning, this verse came to mind, seemingly for no particular reason: “Love is patient. Love is kind.” I couldn’t remember the rest of it, so I looked it up. 1 Corinthians 13:4-13 says, “Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

Honestly, when I was only half thinking about this as I was getting ready this morning, I couldn’t remember if it was Biblical or Shakespearean simply because I hadn’t read it in a while and it’s rather poetic. There are a few things in these verses that really stick out to me.

“… it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” God is love, and, particularly in the sacrament of reconciliation, he not only forgives, but he forgets even our worst offenses. In various places, God is described as being “slow to anger and abounding in love.”

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” This, I think, reflects how we are meant to respond to God’s love for us. God protects us, so we are likewise supposed to protect others in any way we can. We are also meant to trust God and trust the people we love. God is the source of our hope, and we can know that because he loves us, even when things look rather bleak, we have someone to look to for guidance. Love always perseveres. In other words, true love just keeps loving, no matter what.

“Love never fails.” I think this stuck out to me because it means that if love is our default operating system, we will achieve some kind of goodness, even if we don’t achieve what we want. If love is our default operating system, then we will achieve what God wants, which is likely better than what we wanted, anyway.

Last night it occurred to me that while it’s true that I’ve trusted God with my soul, I haven’t entirely trusted him with every aspect of my life. I’ve seen how trusting him, and learning how to “walk on water” as it were, has changed me. It changes everything. The fact of the matter is, though, that I can still see the shore, and he doesn’t want me to only go that far. He wants me to run, and we’ve got a long way to go.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Broken Heart

On Thursday I went to Adoration like I usually do, and I went to confession like I often have to. I confessed that I’ve been struggling with a certain temptation, and I sometimes give into it, but I don’t think I’ve given in lately. I also confessed that a very long time ago, when I first came back to God, I didn’t understand the sacraments and that I felt like I sort of misused them because of that, but that this was something that I just hadn’t confessed because I keep forgetting to. I also confessed that sometimes, after I know God has forgiven me for something, I have trouble forgiving myself. The priest absolved me, and told me that I’m a holy woman.

A lot of people have been telling me that lately. My best friend has told me that several times. I sort of wrote it off because she’s agnostic. Then another friend who I don’t really see very often told me the same thing at her aunt’s wake. My mom has told me that I’m a holy person, but I kind of thought she was joking. My godfather has implied it. Now my priest is saying it. I don’t think I’m a holy person. I’m working at it.

I recently read a horribly depressing article. It was about what crucifixion actually does to the human body, and how people who were crucified actually died from asphyxiation after horribly long periods of time. It said that Jesus most likely did not die in this way because Biblical and scientific evidence suggest that he most likely died from heart failure. The really horrible part came next. It explained that heart failure can be the result of deep longing, loss, and/or rejection. This is especially common among elderly people who have lost a partner they have loved and been with for a very long time. In other words, people can die of a broken heart. In other words, Jesus died of a broken heart.

Jesus died for sins I haven’t even committed yet. When he was on the cross, he knew I was going to leave him. He knew I wasn’t going to care for several years. I don’t care that I was seventeen. My instinct is to say that I’m sorry. The thing is, I’ve said I’m sorry more times than I know, and I know he’s forgiven me. Peter rejected him three times; pretended he didn’t know him, and Jesus made him the first Pope. Last night I had a thought. “I’ve said I’m sorry, and he’s forgiven me. What do you say when someone’s forgiven you?” Then it hit me. It was stupid, really. “You say, ‘Thank you.'”

Braving The Bleak

Last week we were on vacation, camping in Maine. It was mostly awesome, but my medication did still give me some issues, and it was frustrating. I had to take a lot of naps. Today I was back to work. I’m working on a rather dark story for my mythology, which isn’t exactly fun, but I’m getting through it. I’ve actually enlisted one of my friends to help me with this one. Basically, I’m describing a Realm in my universe called the Bleak, which, unlike others, is deeply connected to darker human emotions. In another story I described a Realm called the Waiting Lands, which a human could possibly get to, not just in their minds, but also in bodily form, but they would have to “brave the Bleak” first. The Waiting Lands are very strange, but also very cool.

When I’m writing, or sometimes much later than when I actually finish a story, I find myself reflecting on how my fantasy mirrors my reality in a way. Last week was kind of a Bleak for me. I had a lot of fun with my cousins, but I was dealing with issues with my meds, and on top of that, I found myself fighting a pretty difficult spiritual temptation. I am hardly ever angry at God, but I did once yell at him. I didn’t doubt him. I was just mad.

Of course God, being obnoxiously helpful like he is, decided to intervene. My dad decided shortly after my spiritual tantrum that we should cut my dose just a little bit without informing my doctor, which seems to be working, and one night when I couldn’t sleep because I had slept all afternoon, I was reading random stuff on my phone, and I found Saint Therese de Lisieux. That girl lost her mother at the age of four, she was sick quite often, and she died very young. Still, she trusted God completely. I read snippets from her autobiography, “Story of a Soul,” and it was all about how God is truly a God of love. This really moved me, and I keep coming across more and more things that emphasize the fact that God loves me and that he’s listening.

There’s a line from a Tenth Avenue North song that keeps running through my head that seems quite appropriate. “Even when we fight temptation, even when we stand accused, we know that you will defend us, we can always run to you.” I won’t lie, fighting this particular temptation has felt like an uphill battle. Last night, though, I started rereading the Gospel of Luke, really slowly, just because I wanted God to talk to me. He did, in two ways, actually.

I don’t remember how I got to it, or what the verses were that made me realize it, but somehow God spoke to me and told me that I was promised heaven. Initially I thought, “duh, I’m Christian.” But then a voice in my head said, “No, think about it.” God doesn’t break his promises, and the fact that that promise stuck out to me means that I needed a reminder. It also said to me that I haven’t lost the fight. That wasn’t where it ended, though. I had a weird dream this morning. This seems to happen a lot. I was on a weird roller coaster train, and it broke. All the passengers were literally going to die. A voice from nowhere in particular said “Love, luxury, lust.” Then a priest on some kind of flying platform started going to all the passengers. Finally he came to me, right before the train was going to fall, and he gave me my last rights. I wanted him to stay with me, but I let him go so he could get to the other passengers. Then I woke up.

The dream said to me that there was love, and there was luxury, and there was lust on that train. It didn’t matter. Jesus came to save everyone. More to the point, he came to promise heaven to everyone. Okay, there is a path we have to follow, and it gets a bit complicated, but Jesus also said that he’d stick with us no matter what. When asked why he hung out with sinners and outcasts, he said that these were the people who needed him most. He’s not afraid.

I was one of the last people the priest came to in the dream. The train was about to fall, but he got to me. I’m not sure if that says anything in particular, but it was comforting. Maybe if there is a message there it’s that God will catch me if I fall. I think I needed a reminder of that, too. There are a  number of places in the Bible that say the Lord is “slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” Other translations might say “slow to anger and rich in kindness” or something similar. God is not looking to scrutinize and make us feel guilty for our every move. He’s our Father. A good father doesn’t do that. He will make sure to kindly correct us when we do something we shouldn’t, but ultimately, a good father loves his kids. That’s what it comes down to.

Today we got to see a full solar eclipse. We didn’t get the full effect in Massachusetts, but we watched it on TV, and got to see a partial effect outside, which was still pretty cool. My brother was less impressed, but I get excited. There was a bizarre sense of unity because of the eclipse today. It was all over the news, and unlike usual, the news was happy. Everyone was on the same page. While watching the full effect on TV, I couldn’t think of exactly how to express my reaction, but I thanked God because something like this is a gift. It’s definitely something you don’t see every day. I know this seems unrelated to the rest of my post, but maybe it means that I’ve braved the Bleak, or at least I’m almost through.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Say It Anyway

Sometimes I find myself about to write about something, whether it be about God, faith, my family, creativity, writing, or what have you, and a little voice in my head says, “I’m sure people have heard that a million times from a million different people.” Then another little voice in my head says, “Say it anyway. Maybe you can say it a little bit different so that it will click for someone in a way it hasn’t clicked before. Maybe hearing it this time is the last time they need to hear it for it to make sense. Maybe hearing it this time will help them to understand it in a different way. Even if no one listens, say it anyway because it may not matter to anyone else, but it matters to you.”

This happens to me a lot. Have you noticed that good stories never get old? I have watched Lord of the Rings, and the Star Wars movies a thousand times by now, and I could easily watch them a thousand times more. Every time you read a good story or watch a good movie, you pick up on different ideas or different symbolism. Different things take on different meaning and more significance. I don’t mean to sound like I’m bragging when I say I can quote quite a lot from the Gospels because there’s just so much there and I’ve read them so many times.

The other night I was at Adoration at my church, and sometimes while I’m sitting there I just “talk,” and I don’t remember exactly how we got to this, but eventually I just stopped and thought, “You know, you’re a story-teller. You told and tell a lot of stories. Could you tell me a story? It doesn’t have to be anything new. It could be something I’ve heard before.”

Immediately I started thinking about all these different ideas about light. I remembered things like: “The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light; but if your eye is unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then, the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!” and “A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under a bushel basket, but on the lamp stand, and it gives light to all the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Then I remembered that while working on my novel the other day, I had a segment where Aven, one of my main characters is in prison, and he has a weird experience where he sees darkness, and realizes that this is what he’s seeing. This is significant because he’s blind. He realizes that there’s a difference between being blind and seeing darkness. Finally, I remembered a story I’ve been working on recently just for fun where the main characters have to find the Soul of the Light to break a curse that has been on their kingdom for hundreds of years.

There’s a part in Lord of the Rings where Frodo remembers he has the light that Galadriel gave him. He has sent Sam away because he’s been tricked by Golem, who has left him to die in the spider cave. Galadriel gave this to him saying, “May it be a light for you in dark places when all other lights go out.” When Frodo lights it up, he’s in panic mode. He’s desperate. For him, all other lights; all hope, has gone out. I really don’t think Galadriel’s gift is meant to be taken only literally. Hope is often symbolized by light, and light is even sometimes symbolized by other things. At the beginning of the Lord of the Rings trilogy the shire appears bright, beautiful and peaceful. At Bilbo’s birthday, there are fireworks, there is light. When they leave the shire, they are cast into a dark forest, and are followed by the black rider. There are many juxtapositions of light and dark in Lord of the Rings, particularly in reference to specific places. Where there is death, in particular, there is darkness.

Eventually, though, even Galadriel’s light can’t keep Frodo out of danger. Even that light goes out, but Sam comes back. Forgive the sentimentality, but Galadriel’s light could not keep Frodo out of danger. It failed, but Sam’s loyalty didn’t. Sam’s loyalty was a light that really couldn’t go out. For those who might argue, Sam did not leave by his own free will. Frodo told him to leave, and in fact, he held to his loyalty to such a high degree that he obliged. He knew that many of Frodo’s decisions and judgments were wrong, but he allowed his friend to make those choices, determined to protect him while he could. Truthfully, the more I watch Lord of the Rings, the more I think Frodo isn’t a very good friend. He has his reasons. His task is not an easy one. Regardless, Sam is seriously devoted to him, and in the end, it becomes clear that Frodo is appreciative.

The point is, Loyalty has to be mutual, and it takes perseverance. Frodo and Sam do not have an easily relatable or translatable relationship because yes, they are friends, but they have slightly different social status. Sam is Frodo’s servant. By the end, it seems like this slight status difference is gone between them. This is only possible because of what they went through together. At the end of his life, Jesus says to his disciples, “I no longer call you servants because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead I have called you friends, for everything I have learned from my Father, I have made known to you.” Being a friend of Jesus changes our position in the Universe, whatever that may be.

I took a long time thinking about two things in particular. What does it mean to be full of light? What is the difference between being blind and seeing darkness? I think both have to do with one’s outlook on the world. We spend a lot of time, when thinking about external spirituality, trying to figure out our position on X, Y, or Z, or wondering whether a particular practice is appropriate in worship. Internal spirituality is often much more abstract and simple. We spend our time praying or listening to music or simply musing. I don’t think we spend enough time thinking about how God actually views the world, and how, as his friends and followers, we’re meant to view the world. This is important because our outlook on the world affects our actions in the world, and our internal spirituality. If we have a generally negative outlook on things, we will lose hope. The hope we have; the light we have is, therefore, at risk of going out.

This also relates to loyalty in that our outlook on the world is connected to our outlook on people in general. A positive outlook allows us to be more trusting, more open, and more loving. It allows us to live more freely as God would want us to live. Often, we don’t openly talk about God or faith or spirituality in general for fear of judgment. If we have a more positive outlook, we will be much more likely to trust, and much more able to forgive when our trust is taken advantage of. This obviously does not mean that we should throw caution to the wind in every situation, but being more trusting and forgiving also allows people to trust and forgive us.

To see darkness is different from being blind. To be blind is often a metaphor for being unaware. Seeing darkness is to know that there is light or hope, and not know how to find it, or to see it and refuse it or give it up. I think a tangible example of this might be in one of the final scenes of Return of the King. Sam is trying to help Frodo get to where he can get rid of the ring. He tries to give him hope by reminding him of home, but Frodo says, “I’m naked in the dark with nothing, no veil between me and the wheel of fire…” In response, Sam says, “Then let us be rid of it. I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you.”

Sometimes we do have to carry people until they can see the light again, or maybe even for the first time. That can mean a whole lot of different things, and sometimes it just means making sure we pray for them. Jesus says, “Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Sometimes people can only rely on God to carry them, but there’s no one more trustworthy, no one more loyal, and no one more capable. Jesus says these things with certainty and authority. They’re true and unchanging.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Language And Culture

Over the past year or so, as I’ve been writing my book, I’ve been paying more attention to characters that are underrepresented in popular media. The first I noticed were people with disabilities. We’re hardly even on the map. Hopefully my novel will help fix that to a degree. The other I’ve noticed are “normal” people who happen to be Christian. What I’ve seen in TV shows and movies is that Christians are generally represented in two ways. The stock Christian characters are almost always either Bible beating, ignorant jerks, or intellectually stunted, and thoroughly content.

When I was a little kid, my dad told my brother and me lots of stories–stories he made up, old Greek myths, as well as stories from the Bible. I learned about Echo and Narcissus at the same time I was learning about Adam and Eve and Noah. I grew up on mythology, science fiction, and fantasy, and I made it through the public school system intellectually unscathed. I learned (or at least tried) about Chemistry, math, biology, evolution, and physics, and I don’t question the facts regarding those subjects. The point I’m trying to make is that the largely agnostic and atheistic culture has a tendency to stereotype. I want to see Christian characters who are smart, funny, and nice, because a lot of us are.

I have a friend who is very into social justice–women’s rights, LGBT rights, race relations–if there’s a social disparity, she knows and cares about it. I admire her for it, but at the same time, she’s so militant and angry about it sometimes that it can get tiresome. Last night she was talking about how there is so much corruption in our country’s justice system, regarding racism and police violence. She has mentioned before that she is very wary of people in positions of authority, especially when those people have access to weapons. To be fair, at least right now, I feel like the people in authority in our country are kind of useless, but I don’t distrust them per se.

It’s easy to stereotype, and we all have a tendency to do it. While some authority figures are corrupt and untrustworthy, some, in fact I’d say probably most, are good people. The same can be said for Christians. People notice the jerks and publicize them because it’s easy and because they make the most noise. The truth is that most of us are reasonable and nice. I would just love to see a moment in a movie or TV show where something good happens because a Christian character was kind to someone or gave them advice, or because they prayed. It doesn’t have to be corny. It can be done artfully.

I will say that sometimes an issue I have with Christian culture is that it has a tendency to lag behind the culture of the Country in general. This is partly out of necessity. We can never deviate from the core teachings and beliefs of the Church, but we need to be more willing to adapt without compromising our faith. We’ve done it since the Church began, but culture changes with such increasing speed in the 21st Century, that it’s harder to keep up. One thing that I think should be an easy fix that the Church has largely neglected, however, is the language we use. For example, I still pray the ye oldie version of the Lord’s Prayer because that’s how I learned it: “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…” I mean it when I pray it, but it’s the only time I talk like I was around when Shakespeare was writing Hamlet.

How a person expresses him/herself has a large impact on how that person and their ideas are viewed. Many Christian ideas are considered cliche or uncool because we’ve been using the same language and motifs to express our beliefs since the beginning of time. It’s why I often can’t listen to Christian music outside of worship for an extended period of time. Artists just recycle the same stories, images, and metaphors over and over. This is due, in part, to the of fact that many ideas and images are taken straight from the Bible, which again, is relevant in a worship setting, but isn’t going to be helpful when it comes to bringing people to the Church, which I’m much more interested in doing, at least when it comes to music.

However, I think there aren’t many actually interesting Christian characters in popular movies and TV for similar reasons. I think part of the issue is that Hollywood at least is largely secular, and the people who make the best movies honestly just don’t know how to write good Christian characters. What would that character be like? Maybe they’d be like me–a dorky writer who  plays pen and paper RPG’s and teaches religious ed once a month. Maybe they’d be a physics teacher who chose that job to try and expand his students’ intellectual horizons. Maybe they’d be someone with psychic powers, trying to figure out if using those abilities encroaches on God’s authority, while at the same time, trying to save the world from certain doom.

A character’s religion does not dictate their entire personality. In terms of characteristics, it is equal to their interests, their profession, their education, their upbringing, and everything else that makes a person a person. It is another factor that makes them unique. I bring this all up because I’m tired of seeing Christian characters that are nothing more than the designated annoying Christian character. I just want characters that are interesting human beings who happen to believe in Jesus, just as I want to see more interesting characters who happen to have some kind of disability. I’m tired of factors like these being defining characteristics above all else. I’m tired of annoying stereotypes that put me in categories I don’t belong in.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Kind Of Like Eating Vegetables

I’m discovering that I have to approach a lot of things kind of like eating vegetables, even if they’re things I want to do. There’s a part of me that sincerely just wants to do nothing, and I mean NOTHING. There’s a part of me that just wants to lie in bed all day and think about random stuff without worrying about anything. I guess everyone’s probably got that part of them.

I’ve finally got back into a consistent writing routine. I write a minimum of half an hour every day whether I want to or not. There are some days where I feel like a literary genius, and there are days where I feel utterly uninspired. I do it because I want to finish my book and see what happens, but I also do it because I need structure in my life, and because it’s good for me. I’ve also been a lot better about reading the Bible, and I approach it in a similar way. I started a reading plan that splits the whole Bible up into daily reading assignments. I’m actually ahead of where I’m supposed to be because I read a minimum of one assigned reading every day whether I want to or not.

Honestly, things have been going pretty darn well lately. I’ve been writing more (either blogging or working on my novel), I’ve been reading more, and I’ve been praying more. The best thing that’s happened recently, though is that last night, my friend and a couple of her friends came over so the four of us could plan a prayer/service group that’s going to meet once per week. We already have several things planned, and I think this is going to go really well. We even have a meeting tomorrow with a social worker who’s connected to a homeless shelter to talk about one of our ideas.

I’m really loving teaching religious ed at my church this year, too. There’s a girl in my class who really actually seems to be interested and genuinely wants to have a serious spiritual life. She asks good questions and really tries hard to come up with good answers to our discussion questions. Our last class was about the importance of going to mass, and what the Eucharist actually means. I like going to church, but of course, there are days that I just don’t want to.

What I’m coming to realize is that I have to approach everything, even things I like doing, like eating vegetables sometimes. Sometimes I think a part of me just wants to be isolated and hide, partly because a lot of the things I like doing also take me outside of my comfort zone. I’m also coming to realize that a part of me doesn’t think I’m going to succeed at this stuff, so I have to force myself to do it.

My prayer group is already forcing me to do things that I’m not sure I know how to do or that I’m not sure I’m good at, but they’re also a really supportive bunch of girls. I’m feeling really optimistic about this. For the longest time I’ve been trying to find a community to belong to. I’ve been trying even just to find Christian friends. Periodically, I’ve given up and resigned myself to the fact that this might never happen. Might. I’ve been called an insufferable optimist, but I’m also a realist. The fact of the matter is that I was looking in the wrong places. I’ve known the friend I started this group with for several years, and I’ve known she was Christian for quite a long time. It just never occurred to me to suggest this to her. When I first met her, she didn’t seem that into the whole spirituality thing, and after a while she switched churches. I think that did it for her because now she’s really involved with her church and volunteers all the time. I like to think maybe God was getting us both ready, but that’s partly because I think I was probably just being dumb for a while. Maybe it’s both. Anyway, I’m really looking forward to some of the stuff we’re going to do, and hopefully it doesn’t have to be like eating vegetables.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!