I don't want to say I'm getting better. If I do, I might jinx myself. All the fragile hope and joy I've begun to build might come crashing down on me.
Maybe it's just the weather, or maybe it's not. Perhaps it's a bit symbolic: in the fullness of time, the dark and barren bleakness of winter pulls away into springtime and life can emerge again at long last.
Unfortunately, I can't say the worries and doctrinal struggles I've been plagued with since Christmas have gone away. Nor can I say that the emptiness has ebbed. It's more that I think I'm rerouting my personal spirituality in order to cope with these new challenges. Once all about frills, tradition and mystery, I've since stripped my faith down to the bare minimum. After all, the bare minimum is all I can bring myself to accept, and even that comes at the price of doubt that threatens to cripple me on bad days.
The good news is that the amount of bad days I'm having appears to be tapering off. All I can do in my vulnerability is hold my breath and pray that maybe I'm almost out of the woods. I feel almost guilty writing this post--there are people that have suffered greater physical and spiritual pain than I've ever experienced, and when laid beside that, this little darkness of the senses is nothing, yet...in so many ways I'm still a neophyte, despite growing up in the Church. This last couple of months have been excruciating, especially given the joy I knew ebefore. It feels so far away now, and my heart breaks for that.
But as far away as it may be, I'm pretty sure I'm better than I used to be. I've learned to surrender myself with a very humble trust. I don't pray much anymore (my chaplain recommended I use my "talking" time with God to reflect instead), and for now, the writings of the saints have been laid aside for the Psalms and C.S. Lewis. Even my beads have failed to see the light of day--at my best, all I can handle is the smallest "Jesus, I trust in You."
It's a start, and I'll take it. Tomorrow, I leave for retreat to Pennsylvania with my university Catholic Campus Ministry. (Those of you that read Abide With Us over the fall will remember that I blogged and photographed my first trip there at length.) I'm thrilled at knowing this weekend has come now, and I'll be there with some of my closest new friends. At the same time, though, I worry about how the trip will affect me. I'm barely hanging on. What will happen when I'm forced to face Him and Him alone for three days? Will the despair return? Will it tear me apart? The last trip sure did, and that was when my spiritual life was healthy.
Regardless, I'm ready to receive whatever He wants to give me with an open heart. Pain is better than feeling nothing at all...
And when I return, we make the long last journey home, to Easter. I only hope that my faith will return in full with it.
Please pray for the success of our retreat in my absence! There are 18 of us. :D
Pax!
2 comments:
As always, dear sister, you are in my prayers. Encounters with Him can leave you raw, to be sure - but there's no need to be afraid. Healing, like the advent of any new life, can be brutal and hurt like Hell, but God is good, ever and always. Even when the world is falling down around you.
As always dear, prayers.
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