Sunday, April 24, 2011
Discernment...
This is the wierd ting about alot of stuff lately... All my issues with the church, with God, with my faith... I have still been wondering "what should I do when I grow up?" and I have been working on discerning that. One of the things I came to is: retreat/spiritual direction/pastoral counseler person... Don't know fully yet or anything but .... eh... posabilities...
Reflecting on Reflection
As all of you know, last weekend I attended a retreat, I know big deal right…. well actually it kind of was. And surprisingly I am not speaking from the “spiritual high” that you sometimes get from retreats, rather it is simply a calming feeling.
"Come to me all you who are weary and heavy burdened... and I will give you rest, Fo my yoke is easy and my burden light." Matt: 28.
Sometimes I can be a bit dense (CC stop laughing) and need a good healthy dose of the cosmic 2x4. But this wasnt one of the times God chose to bring out the cosmic 2x4, granted thier were a few jaw dropping moments during the retreat... namely the theme "come to me all you who are weary and I will give you rest..." When I signed up for the retreat it was by fax after I had found the place online so I had no idea what the "theme" was. But it was almost as if the whole retreat had been planned, and written for me alone, a retreat planned over a year ago. . . and the other 30+ women there were there just to help pay the bills... partly why I say this is 2 rasons: #1 The priest( one of the directors) was a missionary priest from Newfoundland(sp?) who had been just about everywhere... who weather he knew it or not kept quoting from Nouwen's Prodigal Son which was my lecto davina for the weekend. #2 One of the scripture handouts was from Isaiah "I am the lord your God, The holy one of Israel... I have called you by name you are mine." Wich was a gift from the Bishop of Richmond back in the day when I went through RCIA *gulp 12 years ago*...
I did a lot of reading this weekend. Scripture, Nouwen, reflections; I spent quite a bit of it just sitting before the tabernacle, not really praying, I can't quite explain it... pretty much telling HIM all the reasons why I totally sucked and he should just leave me to my own devices cuz I wasn't worth the time and effort... and I told HIM that I hated him. . . that this cross of mine was too much, too hard to bear and why in the hell did he give it to me?!?! One of the major things that I went on this retreat to "work out" was my Grandfather's illness and subsequent death. . . and all the "crap" that came with it...
From my journal:
I know that God exists, I just don't have faith, inellectual knowage "brain knowledge" and "heart knowledge" - faith are entirly diffrent things. What will it mean if my faith is restored? How will I function with that hole filled? Dare I pray for the grace of faith? What if the answer to that prayer is "No"? Can I live with that posability? Can I live with the answer bieng "yes"? I have gotten used to that hole, it is like a weall owrn comfortable sweatshirt, its tattered and has scorchmarks and holes, but it is comfortable because I know it wll. In a way that hole is almost comforting because it has been there so long.
Later:
Reconcilliation: Never quite like this one... hid behid the screen...Lack of feeling God's presence was the priest's verdict not lack of faith, he laughed when I went in and confessed that I had lost my faith... he wanted to know how I could be there if I truly had lost my faith... point taken... This Priest, you would have thought he was a Jesuit, seems like "one of the good guys". Confessed alot of things, he seemed to "get it" and alot of what he said made sense... me who hates crying in front of people, was by the end of it, a blubbering weepy ball of female mush... I let myself cry for the first time... ok weep, actually grieve for Opa Bruce, all the hurts in my past (self inflicted and by others) My glasses fogged up, nose dripped and I probably went through 2/3's a box of tissues... yes me who hates to let anyone be around me when I am crying... was an emotional rag of a person... the innner "brick wall I can handel anything" persona was to wear to be found - That Bitch! Usually when I start shedding a tear she is there ridiculing me for being weak, for being a "girl". The priest invited me to come around to the other side and sit down ( I guess its only polite as we were going on half an hour) but I couldn't ... wouldn't let this guy I didn't know from a bum on the street "SEE" me being all weepy and girly... not that I didn't have to ask him for the box of tissues and he couldn't hear me sobbing.Told him a few things I can goruntee he never heard before... probably won't ever hear again either... but anyway. There was no spiritual "high" as I have had in the past, this was more of a gental hand on my sholder this time. Afterwords, I spoke "with" Chist rather then talking "at" him for the first time in a while. . . I was honest with myself and him about what I felt: anger, frustration, hurt, pain, abandonment, doubt, rage... and then I asked him for the healing I so desperatly sought, I asked for forgiveness for my mistakes and sins, for blaming and accusing him of "Doing it to me" and I finally grieved, for Opa Bruce, my past mistakes, I let myself sit there after the sacrament and weep in the presence of God, these women I never seen before and myself...
So all in all, no great revelations, no spiritual high, no cosmic ass kicking... Though I still need to get myself "spiritualy in shape" there is a purpose to all things and I have to be ready for it... So perhaps an ignatian retreat with the Jebbies is in order, that is one way of getting a spiritual boot camp experiance...
Next time I think I am going to take the blue pill.
"Come to me all you who are weary and heavy burdened... and I will give you rest, Fo my yoke is easy and my burden light." Matt: 28.
Sometimes I can be a bit dense (CC stop laughing) and need a good healthy dose of the cosmic 2x4. But this wasnt one of the times God chose to bring out the cosmic 2x4, granted thier were a few jaw dropping moments during the retreat... namely the theme "come to me all you who are weary and I will give you rest..." When I signed up for the retreat it was by fax after I had found the place online so I had no idea what the "theme" was. But it was almost as if the whole retreat had been planned, and written for me alone, a retreat planned over a year ago. . . and the other 30+ women there were there just to help pay the bills... partly why I say this is 2 rasons: #1 The priest( one of the directors) was a missionary priest from Newfoundland(sp?) who had been just about everywhere... who weather he knew it or not kept quoting from Nouwen's Prodigal Son which was my lecto davina for the weekend. #2 One of the scripture handouts was from Isaiah "I am the lord your God, The holy one of Israel... I have called you by name you are mine." Wich was a gift from the Bishop of Richmond back in the day when I went through RCIA *gulp 12 years ago*...
I did a lot of reading this weekend. Scripture, Nouwen, reflections; I spent quite a bit of it just sitting before the tabernacle, not really praying, I can't quite explain it... pretty much telling HIM all the reasons why I totally sucked and he should just leave me to my own devices cuz I wasn't worth the time and effort... and I told HIM that I hated him. . . that this cross of mine was too much, too hard to bear and why in the hell did he give it to me?!?! One of the major things that I went on this retreat to "work out" was my Grandfather's illness and subsequent death. . . and all the "crap" that came with it...
From my journal:
I know that God exists, I just don't have faith, inellectual knowage "brain knowledge" and "heart knowledge" - faith are entirly diffrent things. What will it mean if my faith is restored? How will I function with that hole filled? Dare I pray for the grace of faith? What if the answer to that prayer is "No"? Can I live with that posability? Can I live with the answer bieng "yes"? I have gotten used to that hole, it is like a weall owrn comfortable sweatshirt, its tattered and has scorchmarks and holes, but it is comfortable because I know it wll. In a way that hole is almost comforting because it has been there so long.
Later:
Reconcilliation: Never quite like this one... hid behid the screen...Lack of feeling God's presence was the priest's verdict not lack of faith, he laughed when I went in and confessed that I had lost my faith... he wanted to know how I could be there if I truly had lost my faith... point taken... This Priest, you would have thought he was a Jesuit, seems like "one of the good guys". Confessed alot of things, he seemed to "get it" and alot of what he said made sense... me who hates crying in front of people, was by the end of it, a blubbering weepy ball of female mush... I let myself cry for the first time... ok weep, actually grieve for Opa Bruce, all the hurts in my past (self inflicted and by others) My glasses fogged up, nose dripped and I probably went through 2/3's a box of tissues... yes me who hates to let anyone be around me when I am crying... was an emotional rag of a person... the innner "brick wall I can handel anything" persona was to wear to be found - That Bitch! Usually when I start shedding a tear she is there ridiculing me for being weak, for being a "girl". The priest invited me to come around to the other side and sit down ( I guess its only polite as we were going on half an hour) but I couldn't ... wouldn't let this guy I didn't know from a bum on the street "SEE" me being all weepy and girly... not that I didn't have to ask him for the box of tissues and he couldn't hear me sobbing.Told him a few things I can goruntee he never heard before... probably won't ever hear again either... but anyway. There was no spiritual "high" as I have had in the past, this was more of a gental hand on my sholder this time. Afterwords, I spoke "with" Chist rather then talking "at" him for the first time in a while. . . I was honest with myself and him about what I felt: anger, frustration, hurt, pain, abandonment, doubt, rage... and then I asked him for the healing I so desperatly sought, I asked for forgiveness for my mistakes and sins, for blaming and accusing him of "Doing it to me" and I finally grieved, for Opa Bruce, my past mistakes, I let myself sit there after the sacrament and weep in the presence of God, these women I never seen before and myself...
So all in all, no great revelations, no spiritual high, no cosmic ass kicking... Though I still need to get myself "spiritualy in shape" there is a purpose to all things and I have to be ready for it... So perhaps an ignatian retreat with the Jebbies is in order, that is one way of getting a spiritual boot camp experiance...
Next time I think I am going to take the blue pill.