The Road To Kingdom Come

Yesterday I pulled into my driveway late in the morning after a coffee run. As I turned off the ignition I looked into the backyard at a leafless maple tree and noticed a few birds perched among the limbs. Robins! The first I had seen this year and there were four of them. I couldn’t help but get a slightly uplifting vibe from these proverbial harbingers of Spring.

As I sat watching, another group of robins flew across the yard and alighted on other branches in the same tree. Just like that there were nearly a dozen red-breasted robins inhabiting the naked maple.

Robins mean Spring. Spring means warmth and light and new growth and rebirth. And Hope. Always Hope.

I had started to write a post that asked if I was being selfish by posting so much that might seem negative or have the tendency to bring a reader down rather than uplift or encourage them in some way. But I then reminded myself that the purpose of this blog was to document the journey of faith through the ups and the downs. This just happens to be one of the “down” periods.

My last post was a lot to digest and I am surprised and grateful that anyone even took the time to read it. Thank you Carol and Gab and anyone else that read and may not have commented. I am at a time in my life where I really feel the need to verbalize, both in writing and vocally, the things that are going on in my head. Selfishly, it is cathartic and a bit therapeutic. But our faith journey consists of our experiences and how we react to those experiences. If I’m going to document a faith journey then it needs to reflect what I am experiencing and how I am reacting to those experiences.

One thing I have realized is how weak my faith is and how negative my view of life is. I truly wonder how I have become so very pessimistic about everything and why I am so reluctant to trust the Lord and surrender all things to him in faith. I thought that I would be stronger than that at this point and I am quite disappointed in myself, especially after just completing the consecration to Mary.

There is a lot going on inside of me right now that seems to be sourcing from the very core of my subconscious. So much of the fear that I am experiencing is irrational and overblown that I can only attribute it to deep seated fears and anxieties that, as yet, haven’t been defined or addressed. But I am also acutely aware that my brain chemistry is all out of whack right now. Trying to describe what is happening in my head right now is virtually impossible. Suffice it to say that I know the difference between situational anxiety and the more serious manifestations of anxiety and depression.

I believe that I made a huge mistake in November and December when I decided to switch from Effexor to Pristiq and then discontinue the Pristiq when the side effects became intolerable. So after being on a medication that is prescribed for anxiety and depression for almost a  decade, I ended up on nothing and now I am paying for that decision dearly. I am taking a medication specifically for anxiety called Buspar but my system sure seems to be missing whatever it is that helps keep depression at bay. I’ll be talking to my doctor early next week about that.

I am finding it difficult to pray but I am trying. And I still take notice of things around me that I believe may have been placed there for my edification. Last week, at the recommendation of one of the priests I spoke to during my retreat weekend, I visited a nun near Gettysburg, PA who acts as a spiritual director. Her residence is only a few miles up the road from St. Mary’s College in Emmitsburg, MD. There is a replica of the grotto at Lourdes on the campus, and I made it a point to drive down there since I was so close.

When I arrived, I parked and walked to the grotto area which featured a tiny chapel. I was the only one there and was able to spend a bit of time alone before the Blessed Sacrament after which I went to the grotto and lit a candle and said a prayer to Our Lady of Lourdes asking for healing. I then returned to my car but, just as I was about to get in, I noticed a very large icon or mural depicting the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe which stood just to the right of the entrance to the walkway that led to the grotto. I walked up to the image to get a better look and saw that just beneath the image of Our Lady were words that she had spoken to St. Juan Diego. They read:

“Hear me and understand well, my son the least, that nothing should frighten or grieve you. Let not your heart be disturbed. Do not fear that sickness, nor any other sickness or anguish. Am I not here, who is your Mother? Are you not under my protection? Am I not your health? Are you not happily within my fold? What else do you wish? Do not grieve nor be disturbed by anything.”

I can only hope that these words were meant for me to read that day. And I can only pray for the grace to embrace these words and act on them.

I am sitting here on a Saturday afternoon in a moment of relatively clear thinking, absence of panic and only mild stomach distress. (Thank you Jesus and Mary). I have to go back into my files, utter mess that they are, and pull together what I can for tax filing in a few weeks. I am a disorganized mess when it comes to keeping files, records and copies and I have been trying to come up with some type of system or process for most of my life but to no avail.

I found myself reflecting a bit on my history of these episodes of anxiety and depression that have materialized periodically throughout my life. Frankly, they have been hell but somehow, by God’s grace, I have weathered these storms. If you have never been through a severe depression or suffered from crippling anxiety you cannot believe how it will test your faith. If ever God seems non-existent, or even worse, totally disinterested, it is when you are barely holding yourself together and just trying to stay whole, never mind be productive.

I was 19 years old and a sophomore in college when I reached a breaking point. I was in so much pain and inner turmoil that I faked an accident at work that would pull me off the job at least temporarily. It entailed actually cutting myself with razor box cutter that I used to open cardboard cases. When that didn’t get me the relief I needed I actually did it again a couple days later. Soon after, I was clutching a pillow, curled up in a ball at the bottom of the stairs in my parents house, at my breaking point…lost, terrified, alone and seeing no possible end or solution. The darkness that can envelop the human mind can be monstrous. I’ve been there. I’ve felt it. I’ve seen it.

At the time, I was experiencing severe anxiety attacks. I didn’t know it then and neither did the doctors that were treating me.  It simply felt like I was going crazy, losing my mind. I was admitted to a hospital and placed on some pretty heavy-duty anti-psychotic drugs which made me more like a zombie that a calmer, more together person. Fortunately, a new doctor recognized this and lightened up to more appropriate meds like valium.

This was not a regular hospital. Essentially, it was a mental hospital. I was in a “ward” with attempted suicides, depressives, even a couple of poor souls that had been lobotomized. I had counseling, received therapy and built some interesting relationships. In the ward upstairs were those with violent tendencies. At night, I could here the attendants wrestling with severely psychotic individuals intent on doing harm to themselves or others. I would lay there in my room, about the size of a cell in a retreat house, listening to the chaos taking place above me. To add to the macabre experience, there was a pale green light bulb that stayed lit all night above the door of my room. There was a window on the door with a curtain on the outside. This setup was so the night attendants could look in on you during the night and see if you were okay. I will never forget laying in that room, bathed in eerie green light, hearing furniture sliding around and bodies hitting the floor above me. It was like a scene from a cheap horror movie.

I was in this place for 3 weeks. Friends were allowed to visit and, while appreciate there kind attention, I knew it was awkward for them and it was humiliating for me. I was the guy that had the breakdown.

Somehow, someway, I was able to resume school in the Fall and, while there were struggles aplenty, I never returned to that state or that level. Over the years I have gained a better perspective on what actually triggered this episode. Too complex to go into here but there definitely was a trigger. I understand it, but I don’t think I have ever fully come to terms with it emotionally. That requires a deeper level of healing than I’ve been able to attain, even through these last three years of therapy and all that proceeded it.

I know that my brain chemistry strongly contributes to my issues and situations and circumstances in my childhood and throughout life also are factors. But I don’t know what the answer is and can’t seem to find a path towards that answer and that healing.

My wife said something very interesting to me the other night and I have been giving it much thought. She said that this had come into her mind rather unexpectedly and she even felt it was odd that she should be thinking about it. She said that she knew I was praying hard for healing and that she was praying for me. She then said it had occurred to her that many times, when Jesus healed someone, prior to the physical healing, he stated that the person’s sins had been forgiven. She wondered if there was some forgiveness that needed to take place before inner healing could take place. She wondered if there might be something that I was not forgiving myself for that made it difficult to reach that next level of healing.

I found myself thinking back to the group therapy session where I related the story of the nun coming down from the altar to talk to me and how, upon relating this fairly innocent story to the group, I began to cry quite unexpectedly. When asked by the therapist what it was about the nun coming down to see me that was so striking to me, my immediate and unhesitating response was that “it was like God telling me that He cared about me.”

And why would God telling me that bring such an emotional response? Maybe because I don’t really believe that I am worthy of His love. Maybe I have some repressed guilt about something that I have not identified and have not yet forgiven myself for. All my life, when something bad happens, I feel like I am being punished. Even now, with stomach problems and financial stresses there is almost an inaudible voice whispering, “You deserve this. This is happening because of something you did. It’s your own fault.” Then God turns from the loving Father to the punishing Father. He is the God of vengeance instead of the Lord of Mercy.

My brain tells me different. My heart tells me different. But somewhere, deep inside, the message is not getting through.

I’ve been thinking about this for a couple days and I needed to write it down. Years ago, I would have kept it in a journal. Now I post for all to see.

I know God loves me. I know that the Blessed Mother petitions and intercedes for me. I know that the things that are happening (especially the chronic stomach issues) are to be embraced and endured for the sake of the Cross. I pray for the grace and the faith to endure. It is my emotional fragility that scares me the most. I cannot describe what an ordeal each day has become. Holy Mary, Mother of God, help me to endure.

Over a decade ago, when I was living in South Carolina, I was reflecting on the times that I mentioned earlier in this post. The times when I felt lost, abandoned and alone. I tried to place these feelings into a poem. The words don’t reflect what I was feeling at the time I wrote them, but what I had felt at other times in my life. It seems appropriate to share this now as a prayer of Hope. (The image that accompanies this post reflects what I don’t ever see depicted in sacred art…that “Jesus cried out in a loud voice.”)

Eloi

My God, My God
Why have You forsaken me?
Another withered branch
Infected by the family tree.

Drawn to the sun,
Attracted by the light,
Only to be blinded
By the promise of restored sight.

Ask and receive.
Seek and you shall find.
But when the sweet to bitter turns
The good news tastes unkind.

Lead me to the garden
Or help me plant my own.
But do not vow to raise me up
Then not roll back the stone.

Oh Faith, leave me not orphaned.
Oh Hope, thy shelter give.
Oh Love, please heal this wounded heart
That I, once more, may live.

One thing that I have noticed over the past weeks is the difficulty in praying when feeling ill or stressed. Not only is prayer harder but patience, acceptance and maintaining faith are also challenges. All too often I have found myself asking “Why?” and “Where are you?” when, in better times and circumstances I am always willing to embrace the notion of suffering in faith as if it will be a piece of cake when it is actually required.

Last night and this morning were very difficult. No need to ramble on about it but it was well into the day before I finally realized that it was Ash Wednesday. Talk about being distracted! When that light bulb finally did go on I found myself struggling with the notion of going to Mass. Not just attending Mass but actually just driving to the church. Everything has become an effort, even the simplest tasks.

That being said, I did go to Mass at 7PM. I sat in the small glass-fronted community room that picks up overflow at Sunday Mass. I like the isolation and there were just a few people in the room.

My greatest concern was to have a prayerful and appropriate attitude for Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the Lenten Season. I always try to enter Lent with a spirit or attitude consistent with the call for prayer, fasting and almsgiving. But at that moment, I felt like I had accomplished something by simply being there.

However, as the service progressed I found myself reflecting on my current circumstances and the essence of Lent and its preparatory nature. Prior to receiving ashes I sincerely asked Mary to unite my heart with hers and to develop in me an accepting and surrendering heart. I acknowledged my own sinfulness and unworthiness to even be present there with the Blessed Sacrament and at the celebration of the Eucharist. I asked for the grace of humility, patience, perseverance and prayerful acceptance. I was able to say, with full conviction, that I offered myself to Jesus through her Immaculate Heart and presented all of the challenges I am facing (fear, anxiety, depression, stomach problems) for the forgiveness of all my sins, for sinners everywhere and for the souls in Purgatory.

There is no great action that took place there but I considered it a gift of true grace that allowed me to gather myself for that brief period to embrace my sufferings and honestly and sincerely offer them up. I have offered prayers like this many times in the past but I usually feel like I am saying what I’m supposed to say. This time, I felt like it came from the heart.

One of the things I was led to expect from the Consecration to Mary was a type of inner transformation. I prayed that my thoughts would be united with Mary’s thoughts, my prayers be united with Mary’s prayers. I felt a bit of that tonight. And I only say that because I do not feel like I was capable of feeling what I ended up feeling tonight. It could not have been me. I have been too miserable and self-pitying lately. It had to be God’s grace in me through Mary. For that I am truly and sincerely grateful.

Just as the graduation ceremonies for college are referred to as a “commencement,” I feel that completing the consecration preparation and making the consecration to Jesus through Mary places me in sort of a commencement mode.

If I am to take this at all seriously, and I do, then this is a new beginning. Not that it changes my day-to-day life but it does challenge me to approach life and my faith in a different way and with a different perspective. Now, I am trying to place all of my temporal and spiritual concerns in the arms of Mary, for her to do with as she sees fit in cooperation with her Son. I have also been considering the emphasis placed on assuming the attitude and virtues of Mary with the help of the Holy Spirit. That is a process and transformation that I can’t even begin to anticipate or comprehend but I do welcome whatever interior changes that can help me to practice trustful surrender and patient acceptance of all things.

It seems so odd to me that the consecration ended up occurring when it actually did. Here I am embracing a radical though logical alteration in the way I approach Christ in the midst of what for me is one of the periods of greatest inner turmoil I’ve ever experienced. I sincerely hope that someday I can reflect on these times and truly see and appreciate how God was working in my life and leading me.

Even though I keep getting feedback from medical tests that there is nothing physically wrong with me, I cannot accept that there is nothing that can be done to provide some sort of relief. It is the constant, unrelenting stomach problem that is causing me the greatest distress. It is really wearing me down emotionally simply because it just never stops. I feel sick 24 hours a day. So even though there is nothing wrong there is obviously something wrong…if you know what I mean. And I can’t believe that, even if they can’t find a cause, that there isn’t anything that can provide some type of relief.

I did start taking an anti-anxiety medication about a week and a half ago called Buspar. I have to start out with small doses and work my way up and apparently it takes weeks to begin to have an effect. But at least it’s something. If stress is causing my gastro problems then maybe a medication that addresses that issue might provide some relief.

I do know one thing that does bring relief. Tears! Buckets of them. Torrents of them. I can name three specific times in my life when I was at my wits end when a sudden and unexpected collapse into tears provided some of the most dramatic healing I have ever experienced. One in particular occurred prior to my wedding 30 years ago. I was in the midst of a major anxiety episode and it was crushing me just at the time I was preparing for marriage. One night I sat in prayer and asked the Lord to show me whatever it was in my past that needed healing and to provide that healing. I can’t remember exactly what image or thought entered my mind but it was an early childhood memory that just unleashed one of the most draining, cathartic and healing experiences of my entire life. I was literally healed and changed by that event. And there is no doubt that it was a healing directly from the Lord.

But these days I am like a dammed river. It seems like everything is just trapped deep inside me and I can’t find the plug to release it all. I know that it would help but I can’t uncork my emotionally constipated inner child. But I will pray that Mary will send the grace of release and healing to me as I know that a loving Mother would.

Until then, one day and one step at a time.

Tonight I attended Mass at the Dominican Monastery and, afterward, made the consecration to Jesus through Mary. The consecration prayer, as presented by St. Louis de Montfort, is a very beautiful statement of commitment and is genuinely “Jesus-focused.” I purposely avoided reading the consecration prayer beforehand so that I could absorb the statements as they were expressed. The statement that made the strongest impression on me was as follows:

Oh admirable Mother, present me to your dear Son as his slave, now and for always, so that he who redeemed me through you, will now receive me through you.

To be honest and utterly human here, I am hoping for something from this consecration. I know that may seem counter to the whole intention of “holy slavery” and to the commitment to give Mary “the full right to dispose of me and all that belongs to me, without any reservations, in whatever way you please.” One of my great hesitations in any attempt to surrender my life to the Lord was a fear that a consequence of that surrender would be the loss of something that I then perceived as critical or utterly important. Job, health, family, etc. That fear has not abated.

I feel that I am at a very precarious point in my life and today, on the day of total consecration to Jesus through Mary, I am excruciatingly aware of the fragility of all things. Frankly, I am utterly exhausted by my digestive problems. The absence of any physical diagnosis leads me to have to consider the possibility that all of this is induced by anxiety, an emotion/condition that I am at a loss to control. I met with my therapist this morning and told him how frustrated and weary I was of trying to get at this “thing” that seems to inhabit my psyche and rule my emotional self through fear. And all of this physical and emotional upset in the midst of the looming job/financial crisis that will likely and finally come to a head in the next couple weeks.

So back to my original statement that I am hoping for something from the consecration. I am sincerely hoping and praying for healing…physical and emotional. That is not at all the sole reason why I proceeded with the consecration. I truly wanted to deepen my relationship and devotion to the Blessed Mother. But I am feeling rather desperate to hold myself together. I know that if I must endure some financial setback based on the current circumstances, then I will accept it as God’s will. It is the notion of this occurring while I am struggling with the stomach and the anxiety that absolutely terrifies me. And I am not afraid to admit it. I am just so very afraid of simply falling apart, whatever in the world that means.

But what a statement to make on a day such as today! I am supposed to be a man of faith. I am supposed to be willing to accept all in the name of Christ through his Blessed Mother. Yet I am allowing fear to overwhelm me, a fear that has roots more than 50 years deep. What sort of example of Christian faith and acceptance am I? Not much of one. All I can do is call on the Mother of God to buttress me with her faith, encourage me with her hope and console me with her love. I pray that by uniting myself to her Immaculate Heart I can absorb the virtues that are so lacking in me right now.

Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your Mother. Thank you Mary for the gift of yourself. Please accept your flawed and fragile child as your property and possession. Amen.

And thank you Gabrielle, Pia, Carol, Owen and those who read anonymously for your patience and prayers. I am feeling a bit of a holy mess right now.

Today is the last day of the preparation for my Consecration to Mary. The last week has focused on the “Knowledge of Jesus.” The preparation process has been rather difficult and has certainly had its ups and downs. The first few weeks were rather exhilarating with the sudden and complete remission of my stomach problems. It was a thrill to once again desire food and engage with others socially. I felt like I had been given a great blessing and I was returning to my old self. Then, “wham!”

The past couple of weeks have been right back to the same old ugly, raunchy stomach with fatigue and situational anxiety rolled in for good measure. And I feel like it has been a challenge to my intention to move forward with the formal consecration but that intention has not wavered.

In a little while I will read the writings and prayers for the final day’s preparation. Tomorrow is the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes and the day that I specifically selected to make the consecration. It is also a Thursday and the Dominican Nuns have a Mass every Thursday evening at 5PM. During this Mass I will receive the Eucharist and afterward I will formally perform the “Consecration of oneself to Jesus Christ, Wisdom Incarnate, through the hands of Mary.”

I can then only do my best to come to Jesus in all things “by Mary, with Mary, in Mary and for Mary.” My life, body and soul, will be in her hands. I am deeply grateful and quite unworthy of this honor and opportunity. I pray that Mary will take this weak, sinful and confused soul and, by the grace of God, help me to become whatever it is that the Lord desires for me. I pray with all my heart for patience, perseverance and faith. I offer my sufferings for the conversion of sinners and for the forgiveness of my sins.

Oh Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to Thee.

Just wanted to make a quick post about our retreat. My friend John and I spent 3 and a half days in relative quiet and prayer. The big excitement with this retreat was the huge snowstorm that slammed the East Coast. I guess we got about 2 feet of snow on Saturday and were pretty much house bound. The nice thing was that we ended up having meals with the 4 priests and one brother in residence. Usually, we eat out but because we were snowbound they were kind enough to ask us to join them for meals.

It was a rather difficult few days for me. I was not feeling good at all and I felt kind of guilty because I know that I was lacking in spirit and energy. My friend, John was very understanding and, at 80 years old and with severe arthritis, he wasn’t about to be doing a lot of moving around anyway. But I am usually in better spirits.

It was nice to continue the consecration preparation in a retreat environment (albeit an informal retreat environment). I did try very hard to center much of my prayer and reflection around Mary and the consecration.

As I write this, another foot and a half of snow is in the process of falling outside. Snow usually brings out my inner child but I am not able to muster much enthusiasm for this extraordinary weather event. We will likely be housebound tomorrow which will be the last day of preparation before my consecration. I hope that I can use the time productively and reflect on this significant commitment accordingly.

The image at the top of the post is a statue of Jesus and Mary just next to the cottage in which we stayed last weekend. It had finished snowing a couple of hours earlier. It seemed appropriate to capture this image in the stillness of a cold, snowy evening.

I completed the week long focus on “Knowledge of Mary” today. Frankly, the reading and prayers have been a fog since I find myself just trying to get through it. What I did take away from this week was that as Jesus came to us through Mary, we, in turn, can and should go to Jesus through Mary.

de Montfort does a nice job of leading us through the week focusing on the virtues of Mary but ultimately ending up demonstrating how these virtues lead to greater intimacy with Jesus. In fact, he essentially says that God “does not now have any absolute need of the Blessed Virgin for the accomplishment of his will and the manifestation of his glory.” But, because God decided to accomplish his greatest works through Mary, we can be confident that God calls us to Jesus in a special way through her.

I can tell that this devotion to Jesus through Mary will be challenging since it calls for rearrangement of attitudes and practices of the past. I can only believe that the grace of the Spirit through Mary can accomplish these changes where I myself would find it impossible. That is part of the surrender to her care.

I posted some time ago that my brother had suffered some very serious spinal cord damage nearly a year ago. After surgery he was terribly depressed and faced a variety of emotional, spiritual, financial and physical challenges. I am grateful and pleased to report that he returned to work a few weeks ago and, though he has a long way to go, he is improving and seems to be healing slowly but surely. And, as pessimistic as he had been about his prognosis, he even acknowledged the improvements that had taken place during the past few months. That says a lot given his state of mind not too long ago. Many prayers have been offered. It appears they are being answered.

I am off to retreat this weekend beginning tomorrow. To be honest, I am not really looking forward to it for the first time ever. It is mainly the logistics of driving about 150 miles to get there and the fact that I feel so crappy. I will be with my friend John who just turned 80 last week. I attended his birthday party and remember how fantastic I felt. It was a long drive into Philadelphia and back but I felt so good physically, it was a pleasure to do it. I haven’t a clue what has happened since then but I will be offering this up for a variety of intentions. I only hope that I’m not too much of a downer for John since he so looks forward to this each year. I will do my best.

I will be keeping all who visit this space in my prayers while I am away. There is no formality, just four days of quiet reflection.

God bless you!

I have completed the section that focuses on Knowledge of Self and begun the 7 days dedicated to Knowledge of Mary. de Montfort begins by using gospel passages to remind us of the humility and virtues of Mary. How, at the Nativity and afterward, she “treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.”

de Montfort states that if we are to be united to God that “we must use the same means he used to come down to us to be made Man and impart His graces to us. This means is a true devotion to our Blessed Lady.”

He refers to those who are reading his words as “predestinate souls.” This has a profound impact on me since the 15th promise of Mary to those who pray the rosary is that “devotion to my rosary is a great sign of predestination.” These are powerful and intimidating words.

I would have been surprised if the preparation process would have proceeded totally smoothly with one satisfying grace experience after another. But I would have welcomed it. Unfortunately, my stomach problems have returned with a vengeance and the past few days have been truly unpleasant. This has really knocked me for a loop since I had been doing so well for so long and the beginning of the improvement had coincided with the beginning of the consecration preparation.

I find myself in a dark place now, since this has really affected my mood. A few other issues have crept up to remind me of how flawed and fragile a human being I am. A loss of computer data, scheduling mishaps, the work stress, financial worries, combined with the stomach miseries (and trust me, it is miserable), are all combining to make me snappy and depressed.

I wonder, sometimes, if the awareness of someone pursuing a deeper relationship with Mary simply outrages the devil. I have thought, in the past, that someone with a special relationship with Mary bears a certain armor against Satan that is particularly maddening to him. It would seem likely that he would do anything he could to thwart the intentions of someone preparing to consecrate their heart and soul to a mortal enemy. Perhaps that explains some of what’s happening right now. Perhaps not.

I just pray that the Blessed Mother will bear me up and support me at this time. I long to find peace and union with Christ through her. I do wonder, sometimes, if peace will ever be mine. I realize that physical suffering takes its toll on the mind and the spirit and the recurrence hit me harder than I would have thought. It will make the process more difficult but no less meaningful and important. But it is my lifelong tendency towards fear and despair that I fight with and that scares me more than anything else.

Hail Mary, full of grace, pray for this sinner!

(Note: At the very moment I completed this post the phone rang. It was my son who had just left the house no more than a minute before. His voice was shaking and he said that about a half mile from our house he was coming over a crest of a hill only to find that another vehicle was in his lane coming straight at him. He slammed on his brakes and the other car swerved and missed him by “no more than inches.” Thank you, Blessed Mother, for protecting my son!)