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Am at the library, have just enough time to post this. Dont' know what kind of moth it is, but it's gorgeous. Was on the side of our garage yesterday.
Holy Spirit Novena resources
Pentecost is May 11. A novena to the Holy Spirit is praying for nine days prior to the feast of Pentecost, which would start today, Friday, May 2. And, no, you do not have to be Catholic to pray such a thing. In fact, I invite all of us to pray together during this nine/ten days to beg God to pour out the gifts and blessings of the Holy Spirit on and into us all.
Here are two websites for a novena:
Holy Spirit novena:
http://www.jesuslistens.com/holyspirit.html
St. Edith Stein's beautiful Holy Spirit poem:
(St. Edith Stein was a Jewish convert who died in the Nazi concentration camps. Her name as a Carmelite nun was Teresa Benedicta of the Cross. It's at EWTN, who I know can sometimes come across as superior to others in their views, but, the poem is really beautiful and I think it's a good one to spend time with in prayer, and, it's good of EWTN to have it on their site.)
(Pre-essay note: You may be wondering why I haven't been posting. I've had "computer equipment failure/difficulties", and, in spite of my practical judgment, I hacked through lawn so that I have 8 beds/patches for flowers, 1 for veggies and strawberries. I am keeping an offline journal of the actual gardening, but also of my thoughts, poetry, imagery, etc. during this growing season. I haven't decided yet how much to post from that. The following essay is technically a part of it, as it is written during this growing season.)
This is the essay that I know I have to write, but don't want to. I have pared it down for this post, the original will stay in my private journal.
WHY I AM WRITING THIS
This essay idea has been rattling around inside of me for several weeks. I've held off writing because I was afraid I would be the only one it would benefit, that it would be a selfish thing to do. I'm also afraid that some family members, even church members, will not only be hurt, but will be outraged. However, today a person wrote me, and once again I had the realization that my life situation, while perhaps not too common, isn't unique, and, perhaps what I have to say will benefit somebody else. It may be that my experience isn't meant to be kept to myself. It may be that not sharing my experience and how I am getting through it would be the most selfish deed of all.
AFTERMATH OF THE TOMBSTONE
(For those of you who don't know, my Mother had carved on hers and Dad's tombstone, when Dad died summer 2006, a phrase that makes it look like I am dead, and I've heard that she continues to tell people that I'm not me, that her daughter is dead.)
I've spent decades loathing myself, searching for what is "wrong" with me. Various Christian denominations have told me that the correct combination of Christian living and following God's Will, will save my parents, myself, my husband and children and bring prosperity. Love and Right Living (holiness) will not only conquer all but will also make my life more comfortable.
Standing before that tombstone, none of that materialized. And none of it has materialized since, even though I've been trying to do the "Christian thing" in this circumstance.
Every single thing I had kept myself from doing in the Name of God haunted me. For months, I wanted to die and wished I'd had the guts to do something vengeful. It's a terrible thing to have to ask yourself and God if you should have taken matters into your own hands when you were younger, when it would have been considered "justifiable". Would my life have been better? Would Mom and I have had a relationship? If not, would I at least be free of this burden of thinking it's my responsibility to fix the relationship?
If I'd at least broke off all contact with family members when I married my husband, and not had the burden to go to church, would I have been a better mother and wife, not desperately trying to figure out the relationship with my parents, with what is wrong with me, with not searching for "God's Will" and with not dragging my dear husband and two sons through various denominations?
What would my life have been like if I hadn't searched for family, love, and God?
Has my life been a waste?
THE MAIN RECENT EVENTS THAT CAUSED MY CHANGE IN THOUGHT ABOUT MYSELF
RECONSIDERATION OF ASPERGER/AUTISM LABEL WITH KNOWLEDGE OF EARLY CHILDHOOD FAMILY PROBLEMS
So, here I am, allegedly abnormal, yet normal. Testified to as a blessing of God by another Christian to other Christians, yet not. Labeled as a gifted Aspie, yet there's that little problem of mishandled development that nobody knew what to do about because in the early 1960's, as now, nobody knew how best to handle domestic violence. It leaves me knowing that I believed for decades that there's something drastically wrong with me, only to find out that that isn't quite true and they most likely all knew it, but didn't know how to come straight out and tell me the whole thing. (It even echoes some of the social-political whisperings in my own parish...such as someone telling me somebody else is jealous, and I don't understand the subtle reference.)
Where does this leave me?
Empty.
Disillusioned.
Tired.
Back to God (the 2 of us) and not religion (group of people). In fact, the chasm between what I consider to be true faith in God and what is called religion is so vast that I don't know if it will ever be bridged within me again.
I have to forgive. I choose to forgive. After all, most persons, even in the current situations, simply didn't/don't know what to do. In fact, it's almost ludicrous to say "I forgive" because what is there to forgive if nobody knew/knows the right thing to do?
And what about the Aspie/Autism label? It was the closest thing I had to what is "wrong" with me. What if there wasn't anything "wrong" with me, other than the fact that I had to do whatever I had to do to survive specific situations?
Again, has my life been wasted due to my search to find out what is wrong with me?
Well, I haven't spontaneously developed the ability to enjoy being in a crowd of people, such as in the noisy parish hall, where sound not only bounces off the walls but also emerges as vibrations along the floor through my feet and up my spine. I still can't go to any of their social functions without becoming physically ill, due to the noise level. Does that make me abnormal and autistic? I don't know-what if that part of my self was never developed because of the situation in which I grew up? What if I'm simply extremely sensitive, not only emotionally but physically?
What does it matter? It matters a great deal in this society because without the ability to be able to gather in crowded eating areas or even meeting areas, I will never be able to hold a professional job, to use my college degree or finish a graduate degree, and, that means that I will never be, by this society's and church's standards "successful". Even worse, according to Christians who believe that a person can be healed and simply get over these things, I will never be blessed by God or do God's Will!
And, further, if I'm NOT Aspie/Autistic, then I shouldn't take advantage of the opportunities that are starting to open up for alternative employment for persons on the autistic spectrum.
Which puts me back to "square one" where I don't belong anywhere, and, THAT is what my life experience taught me at such an early age that I'm not sure I can ever change it. My middle age years are beginning to ask myself WHY I would want to change it!
WHY I STILL BELIEVE AND WHAT I'M DOING TO KEEP HOPING/ATTEMPTING TO LIVE
It's morning. I'm not sure what else I can write about the previous, though there are so many more details, but, even what I have written, I will most likely edit down before I post online.
Sometimes people ask me, and I even ask myself, WHY I'm still attending church. How can I believe in a God that would allow a child to grow up in such circumstances, particularly what could seem the indifference of Christian family?
The first answer is fairly simple. Jesus tells us specifically that the religious persons of His time period pretty much had it wrong, they were pursuing religion, not God. What had once been a methodic and orderly way for a vast group of people to worship God together had become empty, void of the God it was created to serve in the first place. (You could argue it was even created by God and given by God to the people who then twisted it into their own image.) Yet, in spite of Jesus' acknowledgment of this twisted state of religion, He didn't say it was OK to just walk out and worship God alone. In fact, Jesus did something I wish He wouldn't have, he instituted a new way of worshipping, of remembering Him, together.
Bottom line: Jesus never said it was OK to quit worshipping God with others. In fact, there are some Scriptures that suggest we are to stay and be an example of what it truly means to serve God within a corrupt faith community. Unless we are kicked out and/or imprisoned. Some might welcome that. I still wonder if St. Paul didn't choose to allow himself to be imprisoned for the Gospel because he knew it would take him out of the main political loop of the forming Church, leaving him alone with the Ascended Jesus.
The Ascended Jesus. The One Who Was, Who Is, and Who Is To Come. The One who said "The Father and I are One." and also "Receive the Holy Spirit". This is Who and Where we find our life. One day, I realized that God is right here all the time...it was a moment of taking me back to childhood when I knew that God was there even in the midst of all the horrors and griefs. I don't have to search for God in religion, God is right here, with me all the time. Some days that's easier to grasp than others.
Yes, I believe in the Real Presence within the sacrament of Holy Communion. Due to the 40 year liturgy war that I didn't know I was walking in to when I became Catholic, I frequently wish I didn't have that faith. But, I do, probably given to me by God, so I will have to live with it. Worse yet, I find myself "charismatic Catholic". Oh God, please no! But there it is. Yet, more than any of this, which can become ensnared in corporate religion, is this personal eternal encounter with the Living God that begins now. That has always been. And always will be.
No, I can't "wrap my mind around it", as they say. I think I can only wrap myself up in the Heart of Jesus Christ. When I forget that, when I start worrying about how to live in this life, particularly within family and church real-life dramas, I get terrified, disoriented, confused. I need to go back to the Heart of Jesus, not to the snares of religion, society, or even family. Even to pursue some kind of "happy family" with my sons, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren would be to ensnare them in an illusion of photographic happiness. (If they read this, they will laugh, because I am the ultimate photo taker. What I mean is, it would be unfair of me to make them into my religion, so to speak.)
Yet, there is no denying that there are times when this life seems unbearable. What then? Why doesn't God, who is Ever Present, step in and hear our cries? Sometimes God does, and we are convinced it is God when it happens. But, much of the time, I don't know what God is thinking. It's as though God wants us to walk on air over the chasm between religion and faith towards the city written about in Hebrews 11:8-16, the one built by God. However, at those many times, I know that I say things like, "Well, God that's real nice that You've given me this vision of walking on air above an empty chasm with Jesus waiting on the other side at the City Gates, arms outstretched, but that doesn't help me much right now when I'm worried about how I'm going to get the practical problems of the day on this earth solved!
One way I am getting through the days on this earth is to rip out lawn and plant flower seeds. Gardening, if you can call it that. Yesterday, I didn't even want to water the baby plants that were coming up, to nurture them. In fact, I wanted to go rip them all out, destroy everything I'd worked so hard to start. I am also keeping a journal of this growing season where I start out by stating that I don't know why I want to even try this, they'll all just be dead in 3 or 4 months, and then I'll have to clean the mess up. (I'm planting mostly annuals.) Yesterday, I forced myself to water them. It took me awhile, but eventually I started enjoying the little green shoots, some that seemed to spring taller even as I watered.
Of course, we are supposed to get some bad storms, and hail and/or wind may come along and rip them all out for me, but not because of me. If at all possible, those flowers WILL grow and bloom this year, and I WILL draw/paint/photograph/write poetry about them, even if I don't get one other single solitary thing accomplished this year! (Of course, I know a few family members are hoping I will get their sewing gifts finished....maybe, we'll see.....)
This gardening has become my version of The Secret Garden Principle. In the story of The Secret Garden, by Frances Hodges Burnett, (there is an excellent film version by Warner Bros.), Mary Lennox is an orphan who is "imprisoned" in a vast old English estate, where she finds a walled garden and works on bringing it back to life. Here's what I call The Principle: Mary turns her prison into her sanctuary.
Some people lament that some of we adults who have come from weird family situations and/or who have an unusual "diagnosis/label" are ensnared in victimhood and that we need to snap ourselves out of it. What they don't understand is that quite a few of us don't have the means to do that, and nobody seems forthcoming to give us the means. We ARE trapped, largely through no fault of our own. And, due to current events in our society, our numbers will most likely escalate. Some of us will become destructive, not seeing any way out. Here's the point: there is no way out. The challenge is to flourish in the midst of seemingly overwhelming circumstances, like a beautiful purple thistle that I saw growing among the trash and concrete of the city-if nobody cut it down, it lived long enough to let the wind spread it's seed.
Stop trying to find a way to get to the "good life". IF better opportunities come along, by all means, accept them and try them. But, don't waste your life waiting for that to happen. Announce to God that you are going to build a sanctuary within your prison and that God had better darned well help you build that, because God is going to be the Center of that sanctuary! (Well, maybe you should ask God nicely, I'm the one who badgers God constantly, and look at all the writing God's got me doing.)
And now I've written myself out again and need to go back and whittle this down to some manageable blog post.
I suppose I could eat breakfast.
One more thing I do, I pray for others, even the dead. I remember being angry when I realized that it's entirely possible God has me Catholic so that I can pray for the dead members of my family and in-laws, and others. At first I was reluctant, but, then I thought, "What could it hurt?" Sure, maybe there's no point to it at all, and if not, praying for somebody who is dead certainly isn't going to hurt me any. And, if there IS some way God uses those prayers, then why not? I expect each and every one of you reading this to pray at least a hundred "Mercy on her, O LORD" after I die! What? Not a chance?! Oh well, I tried...................
Tell someone you love them today, even if it's God.
Thanks for reading. I'm still going to try to get some more pictures of my sketches, they won't be the best quality because they have to come from my camera.
-Ritagail
I wrote the following poem this evening, fully aware that it is akin to the older poets that I loved as a kid. I've got mild ideas of illustrating it later. I needed a make-believe name for the land that would rhyme with "begun". But, I was afraid that might be in another story or poem, so, I did a search online. Near as I can figure out, it may be the name of a land in a fantasy game. Added the "h" because that doesn't seem to infringe on anyone's literary property.
Yes, I caught a bad cold for my 47th birthday. It is now in it's 4th full day, at the cough and fever stage. One of the few times in months that I've actually felt warm.........What?.......Oh, the poem? You wanna read the poem? Ok, here ya go:
The Land of Zhun
(Note aside from reflection: The issues around Tibet, China, the Olympics, and the USA are so complex that I don't know how to write about it, but my heart is going out to God for the Tibetan people, and I did not want to stay silent about it.)
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How dare He?
That Jesus. Always a trouble maker. Always insisting on going off by Himself somewhere. A curious character, a loner yet able to draw crowds to Himself.
Even in death, He was mostly left alone, except for the women, and the soldiers, and the other criminals, and gawkers, and anyone hiding to see what would happen. He put Himself up there like His Death had soooooooo much more meaning than anyone else's. Put Himself up there with God. Reportedly conjured up some of the Dead, guess He couldn't get local live bodies to stay with Him.
And then, He didn't even have the nerve to stay buried properly. Oh no, that Jesus pulled off His Own Resurrection with none of the religious community in attendance……not even His own raggamuffins! Sent a mere woman to tell the men of what was left of His followers.
Savior indeed! What kind of Savior Resurrects without any witnesses? Religion requires a show, at least among the local adherents. If not something that will entertain the masses and get them pumped up to do God's Will, then at least a horrific display that will put the Fear of God within them-otherwise, they won't return for encore performances and will simply wander through the next salvation show.
No, that Jesus didn't have a clue about this business of religion. He was too engrossed in some kind of Heaven complex. It's a miracle, no pun intended, that there is still a residue of His teachings these days. It is up to we religious persons to put the polish and shine on the Gospel. After all, the masses don't know what they want, so we will tell them what they want and sell it to them, little by little, that way we control the message. We don't want them getting any idea that they can have a personal relationship with a Resurrected Jesus, no, they'd end up as chaotic as He was. There'd be pandemonium. We can't have a community of individuals seeking God. We've all got to do this together, the right way…our way.
For those of you who would like to be reminded, the Divine Mercy Novena begins today (Good Friday) through the day before Divine Mercy Sunday. Divine Mercy Sunday is the first Sunday after Easter (March 30).
Here is one source for the daily prayer intentions:
http://www.stlukesmissionofmercy.org/Spirituality/divinemercynovena.html
And for the chaplet:
http://www.stlukesmissionofmercy.org/Spirituality/divinemercychaplet.html
It is only fair to hubby that I "tell" on myself.
Last night, after fighting all day and most of the evening with our outdated, used, and can't-believe-I've-done-as-much-as-I-have-on-them computers, I had a meltdown. I went into a shrieking rage. When I finally apologized, dear hubby said it was ok, and, risking an argument, I said, "No....it's not ok.....just because people treat me rotten and I can't get the equipment that I need and nobody cares about my creativity and most people just bubble through life about things like what to wear and which restaurant to eat at......that still doesn't give me the right to rage."
Poor man didn't say anything. I left him alone to finish watching his tv program in peace.
Yes, I need to learn to control my own reaction. God knows there is little else I can control....................including the kid next to me at the local library who loves loud rap music blaring out of his earphones............
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Reflection:
"....this night you will be scandalized in me......but when I am resurrected, I will go before you......."
This part of the Passion reading caught my eye earlier this week. No, Lord, I dont' want to write about that. Put it away, read it later, and, there it was again.
Jesus admits that there will be times when we will be scandalized. He is specifically referring to Himself, but, as I read it, it seemed to me to also refer to our religion that we call "Christianity". There are all kinds of scandals. There are the big ones that make front page news, usually about ordained clergy, then, there are the ones that don't make any news stories in any printed word, both by clergy and lay members, that can be just as devasting to our faith. Being an active Christian in a faith community is frequently messy and heartbreaking. Christians hurt each other in ways that they would never dare hurt non-Christians. (I'm writing of repeated offenses, particularly persons with the social standing and power to do such things.)
Remember, when we read the Passion together out loud this weekend, we are standing in as the religious persons of Jesus' day. While we may not be able to do anything about persons who scandalize our own faith, we can deal with how we react. This Holy Week, we might consider what might be appropriate responses for Christians hurting Christians. Each situation may require a slightly different response. However, one response is most likely never the "wrong" response: Prayer.
We are Christians because of the Person of Jesus Christ, not because of human gatherings (religion). I can ask myself, "WHY am I attending church? Out of duty? Out of habit? Out of social gathering? Out of fear that if I don't, I'll somehow end up in Hell? Or..........do I possibly go because I believe in Jesus, and because I know that He is waiting for me?"
Let us diligently pray for our faith communities this week.
Friday, March 7 is the annual World Day of Prayer. For more information, visit:
Reflection John 11:1-45:
This is the story of Lazarus, Mary and Martha's brother, dying, and of how Jesus lollygags around so that He can prove His Messiah-self and raise Lazarus from the dead.
I thought that I was going to write about the women, about Mary and Martha BOTH reproving Jesus about His delay in coming to their aid.
Oh do I want to write about that!
But, that isn't what the Spirit spoke to me as I read this. It's Thomas' brief statement in verse 16..... Thomas is a realist. Ever wonder why Jesus gave Thomas the unprecedented opportunity for "proof" of His Resurrection? It's right here and so easy to miss. In the midst of the communal drama, Thomas is resigned to being stoned to death with Jesus, "Let's go die with Him." (v. 16) Thomas, one of the "minor" of the Twelve Disciples has his moment of gloomy faith before everyone else. And, as a result, it gets forever recorded that Jesus offers Thomas the opportunity to touch His Resurrected Body.......to be followed by one of the most profound statements in the Bible about Jesus the Christ: "My Lord and My God." (John 20:28)
Just when I think "the last straw" has come, another one falls. Now, I know my husband loved me, but, if HE thinks the following about me, what do others think? It's just left me worn out.
Yesterday, I was acknowledging to my husband that he probably has more fun where he volunteers than he does being at home with me, because I don't "tease" well. I can't remember, but, fool that I am, I probably asked him what the "difference" is. Somehow, he ended up telling me that I don't get the jokes/teasing in time. And I said, "So, I'm slow?" He affirmed that and said something about response time. "So, I'm slow verbally?".
THEN I remember he said, "Not just verbally."
It took me awhile. Then, slowly, I realized he also meant facial expressions, etc. too.
I kind of just let the subject go, but, it bothered me all night and all through this morning while I was trying to work on the church bulletin and be part of NYU's forum that they set up because of the outcry over their "ransom notes". In my mind, I ended up replaying some of the horrors of my grade school experience. So that, by the time Husband came home, I was not only stressed out over NYU's seemingly cluelessness about adult gifted mental health challenged persons, but, I had also come to the realization that my husband, if we had gone to the same schools, could have easily been one of my tormentors.
When I asked him if he remembered about yesterday, of course, he didn't. Until I mentioned "slow". THEN he remembered. He called me "not interactive". So, I asked him what happens to the smart kid in class, the one who the teacher points out to the others as being somehow "gifted" once those kids find the weakness of being "slow" in human interaction.
"They get picked on".
Bingo.
All through adult life too.
Gets old and tiring.
And, the alleged professionals stand around scratching their most likely guilty heads, wondering why we "abnormals" get so depressed.
Duh!
For weeks I've been trying to write, using John 9 as a framework, specifically about those of us who are born into situations where the faith community can't handle what we've been through. It's been difficult. When I saw that it was going to be the Gospel reading for March 2, I knew that I had to quit stalling and write. As I was trying to write a coherent essay one more time, I started imaging and hearing in my imagination the voice of the blind man. So, without further commentary, here is a possible monologue told from his perspective:
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Look at that rainbow. Isn't it glorious? All those times I heard it read out loud about how God set His bow in the sky. Now I can see it. Can't describe an experience like that. Wonder if they've truly ever looked at a rainbow-just stood there soaking it in to their souls?
Don't know if I'll ever get to be in a group where they read those passages again.
Sure would've liked to have learned to read and study myself. Not sure if I'll ever get to now.
That Jesus, He's very kind to me, not putting any pressure on me where I should go or what I should do now. He didn't go back and tell those people how mean and cruel they are, although, I heard He'd told them they were the ones who are blind. Part of me wishes He would have said more, but I think I understand why He didn't. Wouldn't have done any good. They don't want Him to heal their kind of blindness.
People have talked about me probably ever since I was a baby. I can remember hearing them talking when I was a kid, like they thought I wasn't around, or that I didn't have a brain to think about what they were saying. Trouble is, I only heard bits and pieces and never got the whole story. Then, Jesus muddied up my eyes and had me go wash them. After I was able to see, and my parents were dragged out to vouch that it really was me, that I'd really been blind since birth, then all the relatives and faith-community persons started telling each other the family secrets. Some of them told me personally, but, some of them still continued their talk among themselves. It's almost funny-now I can see, and they still treat me like I'm brainless. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they are throwing a fit because they weren't the ones who were able to make me see.
But, my eyesight wasn't the only thing Jesus opened. I used to think that I was less than human, ashamed for my parents of their hardship at having a child like me. And then, I was so full of joy at receiving my sight, but instead of others rejoicing with me, the religious persons of our faith community seemed to think God's Law had been broken because Jesus made clay and had me wash on our Sabbath day. Breaking God's Law by giving me sight? What does it matter what day it is? Does God take a day off from showing us His Love?
So, they dragged me off and tried to prove I wasn't me. Imagine that! Treating me less than human all my life and now that I can see and, maybe, just maybe, am a bit human, they want to take away the miracle God gave me.
They talked about me enough all those years. They should've known it was me.
They wouldn't believe me. So, they dragged my parents in. My parents and I never really got along, especially now that I'm older, but, you'd think they'd be thrilled that their shame is gone now. For the first time, I realized their social position within the faith community means more to them than I do.
(Excuse me, I need a moment.)
Our religious leaders, they started asking me questions again. I couldn't understand their vicious persistence, especially about Jesus. And that's when my eyes were opened for the second time. All my life I've listened. And, listening to them this time, while looking at them, I realized something I'd never quite put into words, but seem to remember hearing some words like this read: These people draw near to God with their lips, with their concern over laws and appearances, but they don't draw near to God with their hearts. As I stood there, it were as though I could see the dividing line between religion and faith in God, and how religious persons can become blinded by the power that their religion-keeping gives them.
Maybe it wasn't very charitable of me, but I couldn't put up with them any longer. It was bad enough the way they've treated me all my life, and then to be humiliated by them saying I wasn't me, but to say Jesus wasn't from God was too much for me. So, I told them what I thought of them. I taunted them. I let them know that I'd already told them the truth and wasn't going to be bothered by them anymore, and that maybe they might want to put aside their religion for awhile and follow Jesus themselves.
They threw me out.
Guess I deserved that. Well, actually, it was kind of a relief, they threw me out a long time ago-just not physically-which actually hurt more.
(Deep breath.)
I didn't know what to do. It was too much for one day and still the Sabbath. I found a place by myself to sit down. A place where I could look at the sky.
While I was sitting there alone…imagine that, I can finally see and I'm still sitting alone…Jesus sat next to me. Somebody had told Him that they'd thrown me out. We just sat there in silence for awhile looking at the sky. Then, He started singing a song, one of my favorites. I joined Him. We sang for quite awhile.
Finally, He asked me if I believed in the Son of Man. What a surprise I got when Jesus told me it was Himself Who sat right there with me. I saw Him with my own eyes! I was overcome and got on my knees before Him. Jesus put His loving, healing hands on me and sat me back up next to Himself. We sat there awhile longer, then, a bit reluctantly, He said that He had to go back to His disciples.
Like I said earlier, Jesus didn't tell me that I had to do anything, join anything, or even that I had to follow Him, (though I think I might like to). Somehow, I got the idea that He already thought I'd been through more than my share of troubles, and that He just wants me to be God's Praise by enjoying seeing God's Beauty--like that fading rainbow over there.
Isn't it Glorious?
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