Judgment

How is it that a soul, tormented in this life, unable to find strength enough to make it even one more day, is then subjected to an eternity of more judgment and pain?

The Catholic Church will not hold a service for a person who took his/her own life. They call it a sin to take the life God gave. That soul is not allowed to Heaven, and the family is doubly punished by not being able to grieve the loss, or celebrate the life, of the tourtured soul in their own house of worship. A person who believes their life is worthless is then validated in that assumption by the Church turning their back after the loss of strength. Thus making what the disturbed soul thought of their life come to fruition by the lack of respect, love and kindness so touted by the Church. How is this not a slap in the face to the family and soul of the departed?

How am I to believe that Jesus, so sheathed in love and kindness, turns his back on one suffering to the ultimate extent. A person was unable to seek the strength of faith, the strength to overcome the obsticles put in front of him, the strength to go on, and now, after death, I'm supposed to believe (thanks to the Catholic belief) that he shows up in front of Jesus and Jesus turns away? Does this poor soul not need more love, more kindness, more patience than others?

What about the family of the departed? The mother of the "condemned soul" is not allowed to go into her "faith family" and pay a final respect to her son? She is told her son is the ultimate sinner for taking his life. How does this show Jesus' love? Does she not have enough guilt for not helping her own flesh and blood before it became too late, now she has Jesus frowning at her as well?

These are the questions I will be pondering as I celebrate the life, and mourn the loss of my cousin, while sitting in the chapel of a funeral home tomorrow. May he now find the strength and love he was unable to accept in this life.

Lent

I have been having a hard time with my relationship with the family church. I still love having a relationship with Jesus, but I don't feel comfortable in the church in which M was brough up. In fact, I feel like a hypocrite while attending mass there. However, these feelings towards the church, have no impact on my feelings towards my religion. So, a Lenten sacrafice is still in order.

Here goes: I am going to be nice, especially to M. It has been pointed out to me quite frequently lately that I've become very mean, mainly towards M. I take out my issues on him, and since he doesn't like conflict and will never say anything back, I have no problem escalating my behaviors. I haven't told him what I'm doing for Lent, and he hasn't asked. I'm curious if he'll make a comment about the change. I'm also going to try to be more aware of being judgy or critical of others. This is going to be very hard, but I feel it's in order.

So, no meat on Fridays and make a concious effort to be kinder. I really hope this goes better than last year's attempt at Lent.

Signs II

A while ago I wrote about seeing signs from God that I was on the right path or doing the right things with my life. I try to keep an open dialogue with God, but I usually don't feel like I've felt His presence or seen the signs He intends. Earlier I wrote about seeing the sign I was to marry M. I felt another sign when we bought our house. I was standing in the kitchen during our first walk through. I looked out the window above the sink and felt an overwhelming sense of "home". I just knew this was the house we were supposed to live in. With all the problems we've had, termites, electrical issues, lack of space, etc., I still think back on that feeling and find comfort in that we are where He intended us to be.

Another more recent example is deciding when to try for another baby. I got the baby bug when AJ was only 4 months old. How crazy that seems now. I could be just about to have another baby if we had went with that feeling. I couldn't imagine trying to run after AJ while being so pregnant I didn't want to move. Or to make AJ miss out on any experiences this summer because I didn't feel well.

Because of this I started praying about when to start trying to conceive again. M and I agree on two names, one a first name for a boy and one a middle name for a girl. In one of my many conversations with God I said, when it is time for us to try again, I want to hear the priest in Sunday Mass mention both of these names together. So for months I've been waiting to hear my sign. I know that I could have read up on the Sunday readings and known beforehand when both names would be mentioned together. I didn't want to do that, it felt like cheating. Last Sunday I received my sign. I know it was meant to be because M and I had decided to not go to church that day. We've had a really busy summer each doing our own things. We hadn't been able to spend much time together as a family, so we went out for breakfast and were going to have a quiet day together.

While out at breakfast M gets a call from his mother. She really needs to talk to her sons about an important matter, and could we meet over at brother-in-law's house, go to church with them, and have lunch to talk. Ok. So much for our quiet day. I was really bummed, but I knew what she needed to talk to her boys about, and it was important. Lo and behold, that day in Mass, the day we weren't going to go, was the day both names were said by the priest. Exactly the sign I had asked for. Take it for what you will, but we took it to mean it was time. As a side note: M had been praying as well about the same issue, and we discussed later that he got his sign from God a few days earlier.

Grace...FAIL!

I set a goal for myself a couple weeks ago. I was going to say Grace before sitting down to a meal. How many times did I remember to do this? 0. Zero. Zippo. Not even once. How sad is that? I'm so angry at myself for not making this a priority. M grew up saying Grace. He also mentioned he wanted it to be a part of life for us as a family when we have kids. Well, we have a kid. How many times have we said Grace since AJ has been around? A big fat nil! Jeesh, what's wrong with us?

I brought this issue up to M the other day. I asked if we could make this a part of our Lentin routine. Ash Wednesday was yesterday. We had fish for dinner. We had fish for lunch. However in both those meals, neither of us thought to say Grace. I'm so ashamed.

Today is the first full day of Lent. I haven't eaten yet, so I haven't failed for the day... yet. I hope to remember my own resolution. I WANT to make this a part of my life. Why do I keep blanking out on my own want. Usually I would say it is because Jesus has another plan when I forget something I really want to do, but this time? Really? Jesus doesn't want me to say Grace. That doesn't seem right.

I'll update on my progress. Hopefully it won't be another big fat Fail!

Born and Raised... then what?

Another person came to me recently because she is struggling with her Catholic faith. I know so many people who were "Born and Raised" Catholics, but then either fall out of faith completely, or more often, look to a different church to fulfil their needs.

My friend came to me over the weekend and wanted to talk about religion. I know that's usually a topic better left unsaid, along with politics, but I like to think I keep being sought out because I'm open about my strong faith, but reasonable enough to listen to the issue at hand, without preaching. Whatever the reason, I'm happy. I love discussing religion and trying to help out a friend in crisis.

Here's the situation, it's an all to common one. "Jane" was born into a Catholic home. She was brought up in the faith and completed all the rites expected of her. She met a boy who wasn't Catholic but he went through RCIA, so now Jane could get married in her Church and continue being a good Catholic. Jane had two kids, both were baptized Catholic.

She occasionally went to church with her family, but found it difficult. The kids were bored, the church was so large that the little one would get scared and scream. Jane couldn't make it through a Mass without having to get up and move to the back of the building. Thus, she wasn't getting much out of the experience either. Jane didn't know anyone at Church, so no one really missed her when she didn't attend.

A couple of years pass, and Jane still isn't going to Church. She misses it, misses her relationship with God, but can't bring herself to repeat the experience of attending Mass she had before. Then, Jane speaks with one of her friends of a different faith. She is invited to go to Sunday Mass at the friend's church. Jane packs up the family, and off they go. It's a whole new experience. As soon as she walks in, she feels welcomed, like an old friend who stopped by to visit. Mass is similar to the Catholic one, but there are a few differences. After Mass, there is Fellowship Hour. People gather for coffee and socializing. Jane speaks to more people in that one hour than she did in the years she attended the other church.

Here's the dilema. Jane has always categorized herself as Catholic. She believes it's part of her identity. Jane came to me because of her fears. She's afraid she won't be able to categorize herself as Catholic if she becomes a part of the new church, she's also afraid of being shunned by Catholics for turning her back on the faith that raised her. I completely understand these fears. I have them myself. I explained to her the main difference between Catholic faith and every other christian faith. Even though the two churches are very similar, there are some key differences. I encouraged her to speak with the Priest and find out from him the specific differences between the new church and her previous one. Only she can determine if not being Catholic is important enough to her to stay at a place she's not satisfied. I tried to help her realize she wouldn't be "shunned" by Catholics for changing faith. She doesn't have any relations that are strong enough in their belief to do so. (I however do, thus, my major hinderance in searching for a more fulfilling religious experience).

I pray she finds what she's looking for. I pray for her everyday that she will find God in her own way. Maybe this is the path she needs. She invited me to come along to the new church one Sunday so I can see the differences myself. I'm thinking about going, but I would have to go without M, which is causing a new set of problems for me.

Signs (Part I)

This is something I should have put down in writing a while ago, but never did, then forgot about it. Until Sunday, when I was hit with the realization all over again.

It was three years ago, Sunday, that I (1) first met M's family and (2) was struck with the realization that Jesus wanted M to be the man I marry.

For the past four years M and his family go to church together the last Sunday of January. We had been dating for all of three weeks when he asked me to go with him to meet his family. M and I get there first, find a pew, and wait for Mass to begin. While waiting his mother and her husband show up. I get a quick intro, a quick hug and face front again. A minute later, one of the brothers shows up, again, quick intro, and back to front. The Mass begins, and I'm lost in the music, listening to M sing loud and proud. The introduction and first prayer are finished, and we sit. It is then that I realize our pew and the one behind us are now full, and apparently they are all M's family. Four brothers, two girlfriends, a niece, and a family friend all show up, surrounding us while I wasn't looking. I get this amazing feeling of belonging wash over me. I've never felt anything like it before.

The readings begin, and what's the first one? 1 Corinthians 13:4 This is the ultimate wedding verse. Love is... That's all that needs to be said. Everyone knows it. Two words and people are already finishing the sentance. I don't think there could have been a less subtle sign. I look at M and I hear Him telling me, this is your future. This family and this church.

Lo and behold He was right. Shocking I know. I am now a part of that family and belong to that church. How did I suddenly remember this amazing day? The liturgical calendar is three years. That means that every three years the readings will repeat. Sitting in church with M and his family again, I hear the lectur read "Love is...".  WHAM! It hits me, that deja vu, only not. I'm now sitting with MY family, we all have the same last name now. Some faces have changed, one of the girlfriends is gone, the other girlfriend is now a fiance, and the biggest change, AJ is now sleeping in her father's arms.

Jesus Freak?

I'm a closet Jesus Freak. Is that even possible? I'm not sure, but if it is possible, I am it. Outwardly, most people wouldn't even realize I try to go to church every Sunday. Inside, I talk to Jesus daily. I don't make a decision anymore without having a conversation with Him, albeit one-sided. He has answered me though, and that helps.

I see people praising Him on Facebook, praying out of the blue, and I'm envious. I wish I had the gumption to do that. I don't know how to break out of my shell and embrace it. Even with those closest to me, I can't be that honest and just bust out in a scripture quote.

I'm going to try everyday to be a little more open with my praising. It's a personal challenge I'm setting for myself today. If I do a little more everyday, maybe it will become easier.