On Love and Despair

Last night I had the amazing opportunity to celebrate mass with our priest and our Junior and Senior High Faith Formation classes. We had what is often called a "card table Mass" since we celebrated Mass in our Gymnasium. It was really everything I could have asked for. The students were mostly polite and engaged, good music, awesome message, great student involvement in ministries and of course Jesus was present! At the end of mass where "announcements" would usually go we had a prepared reflection about the wisdom of Solomon.

One of the most famous stories of Solomon's wisdom comes from first Kings Chapter 3 in the Bible, and tells of two women who came to Solomon asking him to solve their problem. The two women lived in the same house, both had given birth to babies within days of each other, and now one of the babies had died. Now both women were claiming that the baby that was still alive was their child. King Solomon asked one of his servants to bring him a sword. When the sword was brought to him he said, "Now, cut the live baby into two pieces and give each woman half."

One woman said, "No, please, my master, do not kill the baby. Give it to this woman." The other woman said, "Yes, cut the baby in two. Then neither of us will have him." King Solomon said, "Give the baby to the first woman because she is the real mother."

God gave wisdom to Solomon to make right decisions. God will give us wisdom and many other gifts if we only ask Him to.

As a child, hearing this story of Solomon always made me think "Wow, what a clever way to solve a problem." I never really had a reason to go back and look at the passage as an adult. (I will admit my Bible reading has been lax lately) As an adult my interpretation of this story is vastly different, rather than Solomon, I focus on the women.

Their babies we know were about the same age, must have been the same gender and still very young. If they were still very young and the one baby had recently died, both mothers still had the opportunity to nurse and care for the baby as if it were their own. Both women love their children but are going through a very traumatic time in their lives.

The first woman is clearly the voice of love. Love is self sacrificial in nature and would rather see the best of the other over fulfilling their needs. She would love her own child to the point of giving him up to see him live. She would also have the opportunity to still watch him grow and celebrate his milestones with him since they would live in the same home.

The second woman shows us the dangers of despair. Under the supposition we made above, their children are still relatively young. She has had the opportunity to see her child alive, hold him, nurse him and love him. Her response of "Yes, cut the baby in two. Then neither of us will have him." is not a response of hate but extreme loss and pain. Pain causes us to do uncharacteristic things. If they have both have been caring for the child as their own, she clearly cares for the child, but pain has blinded her saying, "If I can't have something, neither should anyone else."

The second woman's response is something I fight with often. It could be when a friend announces they are expecting, "Well why haven't we gotten pregnant yet?", when plans seem to always fall through, "It wasn't going to be that fun anyway", or when I'm just in a big blue funk, "If I can't enjoy this, no one can." I hope I'm not the only one who has battled with these thoughts. The important thing is that I don't get bogged down by them.

Sunshine and Snowflakes and Darkness

Once upon a time when I lived in Iowa, I learned that Spring meant warm sunbeams and crazy western winds from the plains. When I moved back to Minnesota I thought Spring would come a bit later, the winds would be a little less and Spring would eventually come. This year, the winds have followed me from a direction I cannot find, and when we thought Spring had come, we got 13 more inches of snow. 

Nasty trick Winter, nasty trick.

There is something I cannot doubt though, Spring is "here". It is hiding like an illusive child but it is here. (I say this knowing that "Winter Storm Yogi" is going to drop more snow on us Wednesday/Thursday. *sigh*)

Today I started my second week of this Ignatian Adventure and I am beginning to work on the Examen. If you aren't familiar with this practice, it involves prayerfully looking through your day at triumphs and sins and asking to be forgiven as you strive to be better. I apologize if I'm off base with this. Part of the challenge is to walk around today and enjoy God's scenery.

When I read that, I chuckled and said "yeah right, the wind is kicking up enough where road salt is sand blasting my car." Then it dawned on me, while I was running errands today the primary thought I had was "Oh the sun feels nice, and I haven't seen the sky this blue for a while." There I was, basking in the beauty of God's creation between stores and my car, trying to find Red Vines for a friends birthday.

Regardless of what I was doing out and about, I am glad I made it outside today. It is a gorgeous day in Minnesota and I am happy to be here, even if I'm writing this blog.

Then at work, I start seeing posts and tweets about the Boston Marathon. Another great day to be outside until I realize that this isn't what these messages are about. There has been a bombing near the finish line of the Boston Marathon.

The first I heard of it was from a message that a dear friend sent that she was praying for the victims in Boston. I have since then been praying and keeping up with the news myself. Just last year I knew of a priest who was running the marathon who dedicated each mile to a different prayer request. He had prayed each of the 26.2 miles and I don't know if he was back again this year.

I can't tell you how many times as a "responsible adult" I've been asked why God lets evil happen if he is completely good. What I've learned is that evil is just an easy definition.

If you were to ask me explain mathematical concepts of subtraction or division, I could tell you that they don't really exist. Subtraction and division is just another way to explain a way of addition and multiplication. 5 - 3 can be explained the same as 5 + (-3). Division is the same as multiplying by a fraction. Any scientist will tell you there is no such thing as "cold". If it is cold outside, it is the same as saying there isn't enough heat for it to be comfortable. It would be the same to say that darkness is the absence of light, white is the inclusion of all color and black is the absence of all color. 

Evil is the absence of goodness and grace.

True enough, God has given of himself and God is all things good and filled with grace. To be blunt, the absence of God, his love, his grace, is what we call hell.

What happened in Boston is horrible, we cannot work fast enough to help everyone who is affected by this tragedy. This was not an evil act, this was an act done with the absence of love for one's fellow person. That being said over the next few days we will hear many other stories. Stories of grace and love. Stories of people who ran in where darkness prevailed. These people will be hailed as heroes, I am happy to call these people grace filled, compassionate, individuals who did what was right. They have tended to the wounded, cared for the grieving and brought love into an unloving situation. They are God's love and grace in action. They are living out the Corporal Works of Mercy in our midst.

Then as one person in southern Minnesota I will do what I can, I will pray for those who have been affected and pray that God's grace and mercy touches those who did this today.

Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy Name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy Will be done, on earth as it is done in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who have trespassed against us. Lead us not in

to temptation but deliver us from evil. World without end. Amen

A Loving God and a Lost Child

Yesterday I had mentioned that I had began an 8 week exercise using "An Ignatian Prayer Adventure" and today I almost quit. I almost quit because it got hard and hit one of the spiritual wounds I carry and I don't like to talk about. It took me 6 months before I even considered mentioning it to my new confessor. This is a wound that I don't like mentioning but always seem to come out once I trust someone, a lot. It has also been one God and I have been working on together, slowly, like taking off a bandage with care. Well, today it got ripped off instead. But here's the deal, I wander to different places, I never quit the journey.

When I was a teen I had awful self confidence, I thought everyone hated me and I never knew who I could trust. A mentor of mine and a priest suggested that I begin praying using Psalm 139. It was my rock, it gave me hope and as a teen I had too many highlights and girly doodles around it to signify my obsession with this Psalm. As I grew more confident in myself, my need for relying on this Psalm decreased.

Fast forward to my post college years to now. I am happily married and my husband and I are trying to start our own family. The beauty of how God creates individual life is evident and apparent to families and readers of this Psalm alike. It scares me that my husband and I may never know or fully understand what it means to assist God in his creation. I am afraid that part of it is selfishness because my husband and I are happy with our lives right now, and the other fear I often hold is that I've done something in which infertility is my cross that I am being asked to carry.

This brings me to the questions that the exercise asks me, How does God gaze upon me? I feel like God looks at me with the love that is beyond compare. He looks at me with the same love as when he created me, and will continue until I leave this earthly life. Because of this I feel ashamed and guilty for feeling like I have not and am not carrying my cross with submission.

I vowed that my husband and I would accept life as a gift from God, I just haven't been treating it as a gift. I've been demanding it as a right. By my own blind desires, I am again missing the mark.

Then comes the next reflective question of the day, How open am I to receiving this intimacy? Intimacy, a word that I heard all too frequently as a teen and young adult. It was often explained to me as the act of "into-me-see". Intimacy isn't just the love that my husband and I share with each other but how I am able to see into those I love, to know fully who they are.

This intimacy with God scares me because I don't want God to see inside of me. I don't want God to see my brokenness and woundedness. I want to be better than I am and show that I've been a good steward of his love. Then I recall something I read from St. Therese of Lisieux in A Story of a Soul, "Here is one of those incomprehensible mysteries which we shall only understand in Heaven, where they will be the subject of our eternal admiration. My God, how good Thou art! How well dost Thou suit the trial to our strength!" Because I am loved, because God chooses to bring me closer to him, I am given a trial to which my strengths will assist me. Now, only if I could place what those strengths were.

Through it all, God is often referred to as the "Divine Physician"; if I don't show him what my wounds and scars are, how can I let him heal them? By doing this, I am also accepting of the intimacy that he chooses to share with me. Scary though it may be, it is also beneficial to me as his daughter.