Trust. This one word has seemingly filled my head since this past Sundays' Latin Mass gospel reading. Matthew 8, 23-27. Good, experienced fisherman all, and still they were terrified. Lord, save us, we perish. We perish. Am I perishing now? I might be. All my trust is in God, but after this gospel reading and the realization of how much God is asking of us, I don't know anymore. Lord, save us. Peter, James, John, they had Jesus right there with them, teaching them, opening their eyes; we, 2,000 plus years later, centuries of examples of tremendous trust by ordinary people and Saints, and we/I still am trying to go it alone.
In my weakness, Lord, I cry out to you.
Not a voice that is heard, but a silent cry that wells up in bitterness, a bitterness in knowing that I have not done enough, have not tried hard enough to let go of this world I've vowed to let go of, to embrace Him who is asleep in the stern of my life, watching over me, and I almost ignore Him.
Why are you fearful, O ye of little faith?
I'm fearful because I've not given everything over to Him. I'm fearful that I'm fooling myself, in my so-called humbleness I'm actually just, smug. I am still tossed constantly, as soon as the next squall comes up. Will it take a million years for me to figure this out? Probably. As long as a part of me thinks above the slug-like existence that I know I am, I will not be at rest. Always filled with uneasiness, I advance through the day. Again, it is a realization that I must meet head-on, head-on, in prayer.
help me to let go
of my firm grip
on this world,
and help me
to wrench the hands
from my soul,
that slow my journey
Saturday, January 14, 2012
I haven't written much lately, for no reason other than I've nothing to say that basically hasn't been said. There are so many bloggers, posters etc., out there, people who say things much better than I can that I just feel posting for posting's sake is not for me. That's not to say I don't keep up with my favorite sites; I do, and love what you all say, everyday. If it weren't for the dyed in the wool, hard-core faithful, holding our Church together by example and prayer I can only imagine where we'd be. The Traditions of the Church and it's teachings are under fire constantly, with the sole intent of bringing down our Mother Church. Outside of our immediate family I don't know what we can do, really, other than to lead by example and keep the traditions alive.
You are the light of the world.
A city seated on a mountain cannot be hid.
Neither do men light a candle and put it
under a bushel but upon a candlestick,
that it may shine to all
that are in the house. (Matthew 5)
That's from today's Gospel reading from the Traditional Latin Mass. I can only get there on Saturday mornings and Sunday at 12:00 noon and that's not enough, I know, but that's all the Masses I can make. Someday, if it's in His plan, I'll be able to go on the days when the TLM is available. Right now I'm where He wants me, which is still working for my bread. But even though He has left me there I will not be sad, will not put on the long face. I'm there to do His will, which is to love. To love. So hard! My fellow man, my co-workers! Yeow! But I do try, every day, although I fail at times quite miserably. But it's funny; by all my failures the Cross becomes much clearer, the path to and from the Cross at times almost materializes before my eyes. I call it the slow-down, the small gift of grace from God when He lets you see or feel the result of your action as He wants you to, not as you or the world sees it. For me it's never anything major, just a change in thought, it seems, just a new realization. I don't know, I get lost in words, sometimes, lost where there are no words to say. Move on, k, move on from this and let Him work.
Maybe, to sum up, it's for me, a matter of Him drawing and me reaching. Sounds simple, uh? Heck no! For the Holy Spirit, perhaps, but for me, no. I reach now from a place so different than before. We've peeled away the outer skin, stripping away the excess. No more cable t.v. A big one, that. Not just not watching the television, but turning the cable off completely. We are surviving, and quite well, thank you. No newspaper delivery. All these things, for us, just became obstructions to God. We (H and myself) needed more silence in our lives, and less distractions and all has gone well. We are also back in formation again, pursuing the call of the Third Order Franciscans. St. Francis' Rule of 1221 for the Third Order is just too sweet to not taste. God is so very, very good. He levels the road ahead for you, just so you can carry the Cross further for His Son. Blessed Virgin Mary and all the Saints, stay with me on the road, prop me up as I try to prop up, in my own sloppy way, my brothers and sisters here on earth.