Archive | May, 2012

Space, Time and the Eucharist.

30 May

This past week I have been in training for Totus Tuus, a summer catechesis program for kids in grades 1-12. I’ll fill all of you in on that and how it came about later — but let me just say that this summer has barely started and my life is already changed. I think I’ve cried more in church during the last week than ever before. I’m pretty sure my teammates think I need Prozac and more Jesus.
I have been in prayer, Mass, fellowship, and have under teachings with other (fabulous) young adult Catholics — all of the teachings have been good, but one priest said something in a lesson that might have just wrecked my life.

(That would be you, Fr. Aaron).

When you get a group of young, theologically informed Catholics together in a classroom and pump them up with copious amounts of coffee, someone is going to start asking questions that none of us teachers will ever face this summer.
(Unless, as a fellow teacher pointed out [that would be you, Rachel], you get a homeschooled kid. I have no excuses. It’s true).

During one of these discussions, Father pointed out that someone’s objection to something (I don’t remember what it was — they were a seminarian and the question went over my head) was invalid because God is outside of time.
I grinned when I heard that, because it reminded me of Doctor Who, and I began making more analogies connecting Catholic theology to the Doctor, because that’s how I roll. I didn’t think anything else of it, and went through my next classes.

Tonight, each Diocese present at training took an hour for all-night Adoration. I had recently received news about a tragic, painful death in the family of friends from home and was having a hard time focusing on prayer. I was tired, I was sore, I was hurting for my family and my friends; honestly, it’s the first time all week I just wasn’t “into” it.
But I heard Fr. Aaron’s voice in my head (a voice that is neither still nor small), saying “God is outside of time.” I didn’t remember a single thing said after that, but I continued meditating on it.

If God is outside of time, when I’m in his presence, I can have peace.
Because his body holds all of eternity. And in his time, everything I’m going through has already happened. He has already won the victory. The people I mourn for, grieve with, and ache over have received their joy. Our night of weeping is over, and we have found hope.

In his time, every motherless cry is being held in the arms of his mother. Our mother. Being surrounded by the love of our Father and restored by the Holy Spirit.

When I’m in his presence, I’m not just in the presence of the Body and Blood.

I’m in the presence of the Crucifixion. I’m kneeling there as Jesus Christ, the only begotten son of the Father, he who is fully God and fully Man, is being brutally slaughtered on a crude Cross for my salvation. For our salvation. For the salvation of the entire world, throughout time.
I’m clinging to Mary, whose only desire is for us to follow her Son and Savior. In that moment she isn’t a smiling statue. She is a mother whose son is mutilated and naked in front of her. The fruit of her sacred womb, the ark that held the fulfillment of the New Covenant.

At the same time he’s smiling and laughing and telling the disciples to “Let the little children come!”, I’m a little girl in a tiny storefront country pentecostal church, cutting a paper heart with my name scribbled across and placing it inside a gold box, barely able to contain my joy at giving Jesus a Christmas present — but I’m also a 21 year old woman being baptized in water and spirit in Tulsa, Oklahoma. A 17 year old praying in an orphanage in China. A 3 year old welcoming a new sister home.
It’s not just the adulteress he’s telling to “Go, and sin no more.”
It’s me.
I’m there.
I’m rejoicing in Bethlehem.
I’m weeping with Hanna.
I’m witnessing the unwavering faith of Abraham and the obedience of Isaac.
The courage of Esther.

But more than anything, I am present when Christ fulfilled every single promise of God ever made in all of time. I feel the earth shaking, the unspeakable power of time. Time. Time. Shifting. Moving. The power of restoration. The power of the resurrection. I fall on my face as he rises again from the dead, the chains of death powerless to control the creator of all that is seen and unseen. The darkness of death unable to extinguish his marvelous, glorious light. He is victorious.
And there is where I find my victory. That single moment in time and space is where my victory was won, is won, is being fought for. Everything centers around that. Nothing else matters, because in that moment everything else is contained.

I believe.

28 May

I believe because I can’t deny the power I’ve felt in my life.
I believe because I’ve witnessed my sister near death, and her divine, complete healing.
I believe because I’ve knelt with my broken, shattered, torn heart before his precious body and blood, and he returned it to me healed and whole.
I believe because when I’m numb and can’t feel a damn thing, the church universal lifts me up, raises me up, and I am carried on the shoulders of brothers and sisters I’ve never met, never seen, and never will.
I believe because I have no choice; I have felt a brand I can’t deny, can’t undo, can’t block.
My soul has been killed. It’s been buried. I have sacrificed it and it has been resurrected.
I believe in God the Father.
I believe because one day, I will stand in the aisle with my family, and kneel in the presence of the Most High, the perfect and blameless victim, the one who gave me life, gave me his church, gave me his mother, gave me grace. Triumph over death. Everlasting, everlasting, everlasting communion with God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit.
I believe.
I believe.
I believe.

7 Quick Takes

4 May

I’m writing this list from the safety of my family’s home. I’ve been busy hiding from the world and soaking up the love for the last week. Long story short, the straw that sent me over the edge into raging lunacy broke the camel’s back happened when my hotel room was broken into and every bit of cash, coin, and plastic I possessed was stolen. My parents, God bless them, were able to bid their life away on Priceline’s Name Your Own Price, and my blessed assurance was on a flight back to DFW almost immediately.

THIS disaster has sickened me this week. Please, please, please pray for this man, and may God have mercy on the people — our glorious national leaders included — who are responsible for this man’s blood should anything happen.

This past Sunday, one of my darling god brothers (son of my lovely godmother Kimberlie)received First Communion. I wasn’t able to be there, but I’m so proud of the sweet boy!

Speaking of sweet boys I’m proud of….
Logan just published his first novel, The Intruders. Yes, novel. Because graduating high school just isn’t enough for him to accomplish this spring.
Head on over to his blog, and check out the book!

This post by Calah Alexander at Barefoot and Pregnant completely moved me today — as did the Mark Shea post that inspired it.

Somewhere in the last few months of chaos in my life, my domain name expired. I went to re-register it today and it was bought by some off spam-sounding private investigation holder site. So bizarre. And now I’m sad.

Thanks to Jen at Conversion Diary for hosting! I’m happy to be getting somewhat back in the game.