The Struggle

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9

I went to confession the other night, and listened to the priest who betrayed me speak about forgiveness and reconciliation. God works in strange ways. I knew there was a chance that he would be there, but was surprised to see that he would be the one to speak. But I found that with my husband by my side, I was able to remain strong and stay. I tried to listen, but his words could not break through to my heart. It was that night and the night that followed that made me realize that sadness and suffering are keeping me closed off from God’s love. It is a place that I don’t want to be. In a way I was glad that he was there. After some guidance and listening to God, I realized that I needed to speak to him. I must admit, I was curious to see if he felt remorse for what he had done. So after the service, I spoke to him. I told him how much I had been hurt by his actions and told him I wanted to put the past behind me. I don’t know what I expected him to say. Since he is a priest, I expected to hear the word of God through him, and know that everything was going to be okay – that we had each learned a lesson through this experience. Instead, I was disappointed. He said he had no ill feelings for me, of which I was glad, and he did say that he was sorry. But he still tried to rationalize what he had done, and said there was no sexual intent. I felt like in his eyes, since his so-called motive was to heal, the physical action meant no harm. I have been in situations like that myself. Where I hurt someone by my actions without meaning to. That, however, doesn’t mean that the action is right. It’s not an excuse. I want to believe that he meant no harm, but how can I? After speaking with a few Catholic experts – including priests and religious brothers and sisters, they all said the same thing. A kiss is a kiss. And there is no reason for a priest to kiss a woman on the lips.
It wasn’t the outcome or the meeting I expected. And I don’t know what I will do now. But I am thankful to God for giving me the strength to go back to confession, for the strength to speak to this man, this priest, after this pain, and, through other priests and people -- for seeing his hand in my life again. It is now up to me to reach out and take hold.

Decisions, Decisions

I have an opportunity to go to confession tonight. The church I used to go to is having a parish mission, and priests will be available for the sacrament. I can’t decide what I want to do. Part of me is afraid the priest I used to go to confession will be there. In that case, what do I say and how do I react? Should I avoid the situation all together? I haven’t been to confession, or to church, since Ash Wednesday. Am I ready to make the step to join the ranks again? Am I emotionally strong enough to possibly come face to face with the priest again? I just don’t know. I want to say that I can do this. That I am strong enough to go. And I have to admit, I’m tired of living my life in fear of people and situations. I’m tired of hiding secrets in my soul.
At the same time, it’s hard for me to listen to God. What if I go and still feel the same afterwards, or worse? When I first started going back to church, it took me a while to feel anything. My heart was stone, and not even God’s love could get through easily. This time, I feel as if I’ve lost my heart. The mission is such an important part of my life. I really believed it saved me when I first went years ago – not right away, but it gave me hope – and faith. Part of me is hoping that it can save me again. I went into that first mission with so much pain and suffering, but it cracked through that heart of mine. This time, I feel like I am dead inside. I hope that God shows his presence to me if I do get enough nerve to go. I hope he re-lights that fire and wakes me up once again.

Sept. 11 - Not Forgotten

Even though I wasn’t affected by Sept. 11, on the anniversary, I always think of those that were affected personally. I have to admit, though, that even though I wasn’t in Manhattan on that day seven years ago, I was frightened coming into work today – as I have been for the past three years. But I couldn't just stay home. I felt like it would be a dishonor to those who were here that day. The city is strong, though, and for me at least, it feels liek everyone who is walking around Manhattan right now, or going to work, or just living their life, is giving honor to those men and women who died. Because of that, this morning I was surprised to learn that two of the biggest papers in Manhattan didn’t have Sept. 11 stories or pictures on their front pages. For some reason, it made me a little sad. I thought of all those families that were hurt by those attacks, and wonder how they would feel about that. Do they fear that the city is forgetting them? I hope not. We will never forget.
In memory of the day, I have posted the prayer that Pope Benedict prayed at Ground Zero during his New York Visit.

"O God of love, compassion, and healing, look on us, people of many different faiths and traditions, who gather today at this site, the scene of incredible violence and pain.
We ask you in your goodness to give eternal light and peace to all who died here - the heroic first responders: our firefighters, police officers, emergency service workers, and Port Authority personnel, along with all the innocent men and women who were victims of this tragedy simply because their work or service brought them here on September 11, 2001.
We ask you, in your compassion to bring healing to those who, because of their presence here that day, suffer from injuries and illness.
Heal, too, the pain of still-grieving families and all who lost loved ones in this tragedy. Give them strength to continue their lives with courage and hope.
We are mindful as well of those who suffered death, injury, and loss on the same day at the Pentagon and in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. Our hearts are one with theirs as our prayer embraces their pain and suffering.
God of peace, bring your peace to our violent world: peace in the hearts of all men and women and peace among the nations of the Earth.
Turn to your way of love those whose hearts and minds are consumed with hatred.
God of understanding, overwhelmed by the magnitude of this tragedy, we seek your light and guidance as we confront such terrible events.
Grant that those whose lives were spared may live so that the lives lost here may not have been lost in vain. Comfort and console us, strengthen us in hope, and give us the wisdom and courage to work tirelessly for a world where true peace and love reign among nations and in the hearts of all."

Better Late Than Never - Comment on the Dark Knight

I saw the new Batman movie when it first came out – and as I was watching it I was really struck by the character of the Joker. His speech where he calls himself an “agent of chaos” has gotten a lot of play on the internet. I couldn’t help thinking of how his character is similar in many ways to the devil and evil. Evil doesn’t have a plan – its only aim is to throw people off the path of good. It doesn’t matter who you are, it doesn’t matter what you believe. That’s its only purpose. But what about people who actively act evil? What about real people like the Joker?
It got me thinking about how people come to be the way they are. Throughout the movie, the Joker makes up different reasons for how he got the scars on his face. When he asks Batman if he wants to know where the scars came from, Batman replies that he doesn’t care. I thought that was really impressive. Does it really matter where our scars came from? Or is it enough that they are there and have shaped us in some way? Batman, too, had a dark past, but he decided to turn his past into a positive to help the city. It goes to show you that people can have evil things happen to them. It’s awful, and sad, yes. But how people respond to those evil things shapes who they are now. In the present. Which is most important. People can react like the Joker when evil things happen, and act in evil ways as well, or like Batman, they can react in a positive way.
I have been reading a book called, “Man’s Search for Meaning,” by Victor Frankl. It’s about the holocaust and people who were in concentration camps. He said something that really struck me in that book. He wrote about the prisoners and said, “Fundamentally, therefore, any man can even under such circumstances, decide what shall become of him – mentally and spiritually.” Later, he continues with this thought and says, “It is this spiritual freedom – which cannot be taken away – that makes life meaningful and purposeful.”
I think that is the lesson in Batman, as well. Just goes to show you, sometimes you can find life lessons in the most random of places.

Work

I work for a Catholic organization. I had gotten the job only a few months after I came back to the church. At first, it was like something out of a fairy tale. I felt like I was doing God’s work, and that I was finally on the right path in my life. However, now that my faith has been shaken again, I am finding it hard to focus on my job. I still love the people, and on certain days the work is fulfilling and I can see why I wanted to get a job here in the first place. But on other days, I feel like my faith is being thrust on me too fast. I like to take things slow when I feel like I am on shaky ground. The whole thing makes me question exactly what a good job is. How do you know what job is right for you? How do you know what gifts God wants you to use, and how do you figure out how to use them in the best possible way?
I know I should go to church especially on those days when I least feel like going, but I can’t seem to find the motivation. Even though I am questioning my purpose in life, I just have put up a wall between me and the church. I’m basically torn in two right now. I feel like by not going, I am punishing myself in ways that I deserve, and on the other side, I feel like I am punishing God by not reconciling with the church, kind of like a rebellious teenager.
I guess you could say that right now I am suffering in my faith life. I still believe in God, but I am having a hard time dealing with the traditions of the church – like going to Mass and confession, which used to be two things that kept me grounded in life. I feel like a lost soul. I’m just wandering around looking for answers in friends and society because I am afraid to go back to the proverbial well.

Forgiveness is not a gift

In New York, a prominent Harlem priest has been removed from his post due to allegations of sexual abuse. There has been an uproar of emotion – some people are upset that he has been removed when he has done so much for the community, others are upset that there is yet another case of abuse by a priest. It’s upsetting no matter how you look at it. As someone who has had a fair share of abuse (that’s another story for another time), I side with the alleged victims. People are wondering why the two victims waited so long to bring their case to light. I can understand why. I’m sure it took them a long time to come to terms to what happened to them. They have probably now only reached the point where they can talk about it. It takes a while to accept when bad things happen. And it’s only when you reach a certain breaking point when you feel like you should do something about it. The whole case makes me wonder about forgiveness. Does God expect victims to forgive those who have hurt them? Some people say that it is only through forgiveness that victims can find peace. That I am not sure about – as I am still working through my own issues. In any case, it doesn’t seem fair. First, the victims have to go through all the emotions that come with an abuse case, and then, it seems, that the tables are turned on them again when they are supposed to take the high road and forgive those who have done so much damage. It again puts all the pressure on those who have been hurt. Should they forgive only if their attackers ask for their forgiveness? I admire those who can forgive. But I don’t blame those who can’t. I hope that God does not only provide healing to those who can forgive. I hope that He takes mercy on those who can’t as well, for it seems that they would need his kindness most of all.

Circle of Confession

“Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.”

Those words have always had a special place in my heart. When I hear them at Mass, I am transported back to the first Mass after really coming back into the Church. It was confession that brought me back, and ironically, it is confession that has made me falter in my faith again. While I haven’t gone totally back to my pagan ways – I still have moments of prayer and hope as you can see from my previous postings – but I am not as close to the Church as I would like, or as I once was.
Three years ago, I came back to God. Through the power of a wonderful confession experience, I learned how to forgive those who have trespassed against me, and how to forgive myself. It didn’t happen instantaneously in that one moment of confession, but it was that moment of peace that only confession can bring that made me want God more in my life. I began talking to those in a religious order who gave me spiritual direction and hope for the future. One of them was a priest – the one who I went to confession with. From that experience, a friendship formed. And I thought I was moving further and further along my faith journey.
However, on Ash Wednesday, things changed. And the time of confession, which I considered my favorite part of my newly discovered faith, became a moment that once again made me falter on my path. While in confession, the priest that I had grown to love and admire for his spiritual wisdom, betrayed my trust. He kissed me, and claimed that the action was a “holy kiss.”
At first I didn’t know if this was a real practice or not. After consulting those who would know, I found out that there is no such thing as a holy kiss between a man and a woman in the church. When my husband and I confronted the priest about this action – about a week later, since it took me that long to gain the strength to even tell my husband – he said he did it because he saw how much pain I was still in from past events in my life.
This betrayal of trust made me so upset that I stopped going to church on a regular basis. And I haven’t been to confession since. The wound is still there. Sometimes I wonder if those moments where I experience God and true understanding are just me searching for answers that aren’t really there. On dark days, like today, I know somewhere in my heart that God loves me, but it’s hard to see Him at these times. Most days I can put the pain behind me. And most days I can open myself to God, but today is not most days. Today I am writing from the darkness. Evil thoughts are hard to control. And sometimes, even though I haven’t lose my faith completely, I lose grasp ever so slightly. I just hope that I can grab hold again.

One Foot In

“Who has a harder fight than he who is striving to overcome himself.” – Thomas a Kempis

I can’t commit. One thing that I have started to realize is that I am not fully immersing myself in life. I do most things half-assed. Work. Marriage. Writing. All things that I know I have to be fully involved with. Yet there is a demon inside my soul that tempts me with fear of commitment. It lies to me and tells me that I won’t get hurt if I don’t fully involve myself in the above things. Like Thomas a Kempis said, its hard to fight with yourself. I’ve lived this way so long that at times I don’t know if I can live any other way. But on days when I do commit myself to my work, and my marriage, and writing, I feel so much better. Even still, once those feelings of contentment start to fade, and another day begins, the same lies that I feed myself come back to haunt me. I don’t know how many of you are like that, but throughout life, I have built a wall of these lies to protect myself. But instead of helping me, they have trapped me. Each day is a struggle to find happiness. But it is there. I just have to take that second step.
Prayer is a helpful tool when battling the lies that have become truths in our lives. I pray that God will keep me on the right path in life. I know that He will not make that path for us, we have to do that ourselves, but once we are on it, we just have to commit ourselves to the idea that we are where we are supposed to be. Knowing that may help us continue.

Trapped

Having a support when you are depressed is important, and can help you get through daily life. My support is my husband, as you all know. But he travels a lot for his work, and when he is gone, I find that I can hardly function and do things that others take for granted – like work, drive, and even stay awake for a whole day. Those things may not seem like a big deal, but when he is gone, they seem like they are insurmountable obstacles. And more often than not, I fail when I try to do them on my own. Even something as simple as driving a few blocks to the stores seems like something I just cant do on my own. And I feel ashamed because of it. I don’t even tell most of my family and friends what it is like for me when he is gone. I know that they just wouldn’t understand.
He bought me a cat so I wouldn’t have to come home to an empty apartment or go to sleep alone, which helps a little, but its still really hard. I know that this a cross I have to bear, and I pray that with God’s help, I can become strong enough to live on my own – even if it is just for a few weeks here and there. But sometimes I feel that I’ll never get better.
Sometimes I lash out at my husband because he goes away so much – but I only do it because I am so afraid of being alone. If he doesn’t answer his phone right away, I wonder who is he is with and what he is doing. I wonder if he likes being away. I have nightmares when he is gone that torment my spirit, and make me afraid to be alone. Here is a quote from Thomas Merton’s Seven Storey Mountain, that makes me think of the crazy things I imagine when he is away:
“The devil is no fool. He can get people feeling about heaven the way they ought to feel about hell. He can make them fear the means of grace the way they do not fear sin. And he does so, not by light but by shadows, not by clarity and substance but by dreams and the creatures of psychosis.”
Does anyone out there have any prayers or advice that help you get through the rough times? If so, please comment.

Meeting God on the Elevator

This was a rough work week for me. I got into a fight with a friend of mine who I also happen to work with. I was so upset by it that even though I love my job, and am firmly committed to it, I thought about the possibility of leaving it. Or at least asking to work from home. She had said many harsh and critical things to me – and perhaps some of them were true (she said that I am not awake in life and add nothing to conversations) – but coming from a friend, the comments hurt even more. It wasn’t so much what she said, even though the things she did say hurt, but how she told me. There was no sympathy or kindness in the delivery. But anyway, I went to leave the office to get some air, and on the way down on the elevator, an amazing thing happened. I met God. He didn’t appear in a flaming bush or in a glowing light – he appeared as a man I never saw in the building before. He got on at the floor right below me.
On the way down, he said, “Having a good day?”
“Yeah,” I replied, even though it wasn’t a good day at all.
“It’s nice to work here, isn’t it?” he asked.
I began to laugh, and said, “sure,” with just a hint of sarcasm.
But he continued. “It’s like working in the magic kingdom,” he said. And I knew he wasn’t joking. He really meant it.
I looked at him for a moment, and replied, “yes, I guess it is.”
“It really is a great place to work,” he said.
By then the ride down was over. He then let me out of the elevator first. We both walked outside. I watched him walk down the street, until he disappeared behind the building.
Maybe it was because of the papal visit, but God has been on my mind lately, and I have been more in tune with my prayers and the signs around me. But for whatever reason, I knew that this was no coincidence. I knew that God was speaking to me. He was telling me to stay at my job. He was telling me that everything was going to be okay.
So I went back upstairs, and, putting the fight behind me, went to the girl I was fighting with, and asked her if she wanted a cup of coffee.

Papal Visit

As you know, the pope has been in New York this past weekend. I have been so blessed to be able to attend two papal events – the youth rally at St. Joseph’s Seminary in Yonkers, and the Mass at Yankee Stadium in the Bronx. He called this trip, Christ Our Hope, and for me, it has been just that. I felt as if he was speaking directly to me at the youth rally, where he spoke for about a half an hour. It was his longest speech on his trip to America.
During his speech at the youth rally, he said, “At times, however, we are tempted to close in on ourselves, to doubt the strength of Christ’s radiance, to limit the horizon of hope,” he said. His words were so inspiring. How many times do we “close in on ourselves” and in effect place ourselves in darkness. And why should we do this, when we can find light and hope in God?
After his trip, I feel so renewed in my faith. I want to go out and live a better life. There is so much hope in the world. There is so much to be gained by believing.
He talked about the lives of the saints and said, “Inflamed with the love of Jesus, their lives became remarkable journeys of hope.” Later, he added, “For each there was an act of abandonment to God, in confidence that he is the final destination of every pilgrim.” After this weekend, I feel that I am becoming enflamed with love, and filled with hope. And I hope that soon, I can understand what it means to truly abandon all to God. I know I cannot do it to the same degree that the saints did it, but I hope and pray that I can abandon those things that God wants me to abandon. I felt like God was telling me, through the pope, that there are things that we all need to let go of. What a wonderful feeling!
Twice during his speech, he said with great enthusiasm, to have courage. That is what people need. Courage. Courage to live the life that God wants us to live. And that is, what I think, the pope gave us. Now we just have to accept it, and use it. I hope to carry the moments and feelings of joy, and yes, of hope, from this papal trip with me for my pilgrimage through life.

Suffering

Why does God allow suffering? That question has been asked throughout time. I don’t pretend to have the answer, but I do have my own beliefs. They may not be right, but it feels true in my heart and gives me some peace. Please feel free to comment if you agree or disagree.
There is a battle for souls – unseen, but not unfelt. And while I don’t believe that God causes suffering, I do believe he allows it. Not as a test, but more as a way to burnish your soul the way a blacksmith would burnish a sword. The more temptation and sin grab hold of you, the hotter the fire becomes. But at the end, when you emerge, you come out changed – probably not unscathed – but changed, and hopefully for the better.
There are minor tests every day but the major events in your life – tragedy, death, sickness – are the things that can make or break your faith.
The devil is sneaky. He will make you believe things that aren’t true and good, and make you think they are just that. Depression has always been my biggest battle in life, and that shaded all of my relationships with others. I was always looking for souls like mine – dark, cynical souls that cried deeply for a connection with another. I thought I had found such a kindred spirit a few years ago in one of my old professors from college. We connected intellectually, and were both battling with the ideas of faith. He hated the Catholic religion, and for many reasons that will remain unnamed, I didn’t blame him. But we grew close to each other and emailed frequently and hung out as often as we could. We were friends. But one night, things got out of hand – I blacked out and when I "came to" we were too close for comfort. I was in a relationship, and he was married. This was definitely wrong. If I had wanted to, I could have stayed in contact with this man, who I truly felt I had a connection with, but with the help of God - I saw this relationship for what it was. It was toxic. It had the potential to be a lasting friendship if boundaries could have been kept, or it could have become detrimental to both our lives. I had to cut off contact with him. I’m not going to lie. It was hard to do. I suffered. Especially emotionally. But I knew that for my soul, and for his, I had to do what was right in the eyes of God. The battle was hard, the price was great, but hopefully the reward will be greater.

A Lot Like Love

I’ve been married for almost a year now. For those of you who are depressed, love may not come as easily as it does for some people. But one of my good Catholic friends told me that love is a decision. That goes against everything that society tells us about love. I am an avid watcher of romance movies and romantic comedies. And in these movies love is inseparable from passion and sex. But being passionate about anything in life when you are depressed is hard. I know. I’ve been there. But being married has shown me what true love is. It’s not something that can be captured on the big screen. It’s truly exemplified in what Jesus said – to love you must be willing to lay down your life for your spouse. That is hard in a world in which being ego-centric is looked so highly upon. And it’s hard when you are stuck in your own head, in your own crazy world. But it’s not impossible. For me, true love meant being able to give up my feelings of depression, to work through them so that I could look out of myself and see my husband. At first it was a struggle, and I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t have married in the first place. Maybe I was too sick to be with someone else. But my husband was patient. He stood by me through my dark nights. And there were many dark nights. But with prayer, a little bit of good therapy!, and time, things slowly started getting better. Now I can look at those movies and see them for what they really are – fantasy. They aren’t real life. Not even close.

Good Friday

Today is Good Friday. The day that Jesus died for our sins. It is a reverent day, and one that always brings with it sadness. For me, it is a day of recollection. A day to remember my sins, and the reason Jesus died for them. It is also a time when I try to look forward to Easter and the resurrection. We are lucky in a way that the apostles were not. We know that the resurrection is coming. But has there been a time in your life when you didn’t realize that happiness and joy were coming? When all the minutes, hours, and days of your life feel like Good Friday?
For me, there were many days like that, and sometimes, if I’m not careful, I still suffer from that feeling – that unexplainable sadness and darkness and the feeling that things will not get better. But thankfully, since my return to the Church, those days are getting further and further apart, and are not lasting nearly as long. That is something that faith brings with it – hope. Hope for the future and better days. Hope for a resurrection.
I figured this would be the best time of the year, liturgically speaking, to write about my own resurrection – at least part of it. I hope that it helps those out there who feel like everything is hopeless – there is hope. And I pray that people learn that from my story.
As you can read in the “purpose of this blog” section, I had attempted to kill myself about eight years ago. I couldn’t see the light, I was away from God, and thought that God had abandoned me. I didn’t think there was anything left to live for, and was tired of living in pain, in shame, and in anger. I didn’t think I could bear my cross any longer. So I tried to end it all. While I am not yet ready to go into all the details – I ended up in a psych hospital for about a week. During that time, I was alone. No one came to visit me. The only one who called was my boyfriend at the time, who is now my husband. And those calls, because I was in another country at the time, were only possible once a day, and I was only allowed to stay on for a few minutes, just long enough for him to say, I love you. But I began to look forward to those calls. I realized that someone loved me. That someone would be there for me. And I had taken him for granted. It was easy to do because we were so far apart. At the time I didn’t realize it, but now, I can look back and see that that relationship is similar to my relationship with Jesus.
We may think that Jesus is far apart, and may not even realize when he is calling us. And those moments when he appears in our life may be brief. But they are there just long enough for us to realize that He loves us. It could be something simple. For me, its those days when I feel a bit of happiness, even if its only for a minute. Or when someone says the exact thing that I need to hear. They may not seem like much at the time, but when we look back, we can see the love that God has for us in them.
So on this Good Friday, when the world is in darkness, think of your pain. Think of your cross, and then think of Jesus who died for us. And remember, that that is the biggest act of love – and soon, it will bring with it hope.

Stations of the Cross

I have prayed the Stations of the Cross since I was a child, but meditating on the stations never really meant much to me before. This Lent, I came back to stations and found so much comfort in them that I had to write a post about them. I have written out the stations based on John Paul II’s Way of the Cross. After each station, is my own personal meditation on it. I hope that perhaps you, too, will find comfort in the stations. To remember that Jesus loved me so much that he was willing to suffer and die for me, for us, is powerful. I hope that as each of you carry your cross, you remember Jesus.

FIRST STATION: Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane
Dear Jesus, although I may feel alone, just as you did in the garden, help me to remember that you know what it feels like. I am never truly alone if you are with me. Even if friends disappoint me, you are there beside me.

SECOND STATION: Jesus, Betrayed by Judas, is Arrested
Dear Jesus, when friends betray me, help me to remain strong in my faith. Though I may feel weak, confused and hurt, help me to move forward. Help me to forgive those that betray me. Although I may never forget their hurts, let me forgive, for love of you.

THIRD STATION: Jesus is Condemned by the Sanhedrin
Dear Jesus, if people question me on my faith, help me to remain strong before their questions.

FOURTH STATION: Jesus is Denied by Peter
Dear Jesus, even my friends may leave me in my times of darkness and depression. They may turn away and not know how to deal with me. Please help me to remember that even so, they love me. Please help me to remember when they were there for me when I feel as if I have been abandoned.

FIFTH STATION: Jesus is Judged by Pilate
Dear Jesus, when people judge me because of my past, or my depression, help me to remain strong. Let me amaze them by being true to my faith and my new path, just like you amazed Pilate with your strength.

SIXTH STATION: Jesus is Scourged and Crowned With Thorns
Dear Jesus, when I feel as if my pain is too much to bear, remind me that you were once crowned with thorns. Let me count each thorn in my soul as a blessing from you.

SEVENTH STATION: Jesus Bears the Cross
Dear Jesus, help me to carry my cross just as you carried the cross for me. Help me to see that even though I am suffering, you wouldn’t give me more than I could bear.

EIGHTH STATION: Jesus is Helped by Simon the Cyrenian to Carry the Cross
Dear Jesus, please help me to recognize when someone comes into my life to help me to carry my burdens, just like Simon helped you with the cross. Please let me never take them for granted.

NINTH STATION: Jesus Meets the Women of Jerusalem
Dear Jesus, please help me so that I don’t make people pity me or cry for my troubles. You tried to comfort the women f Jerusalem even though you were alone and in so much pain. Please help me so I never wallow in self-pity.

TENTH STATION: Jesus is Crucified
Dear Jesus, when people trespass against me, help me to remember the words of your prayer so that I can forgive them just as you forgave those who crucified you.

ELEVENTH STATION: Jesus Promises His Kingdom to the Good Thief
Dear Jesus, allow me to be like the good thief. When I do wrong, let me admit to it and ask for your forgiveness. May I never take your mercy for granted.

TWELFTH STATION: Jesus Speaks to His Mother and the Disciple
Dear Jesus, please help me to talk to others when I am down. Even though it may be hard to talk to them, help me to see who my true friends are, and allow me to lean on them for support.

THIRTEENTH STATION: Jesus Dies on the Cross
Dear Jesus, when I feel like my whole world is darkness, please help me to remember that you died for me. Even though I am not worthy of you, and am a sinner, help me to remember that you still love me, and loved me so much that you were willing to die for my sins.

FOURTEENTH STATION: Jesus is Placed in the Tomb
Dear Jesus, please pray for me, and allow me to see that I am never alone.

Padre Pio and the Saints

I’ve always found it hard to pray with the saints. I don’t think I could ever relate to people who have such conviction and live such holy lives. Although their lives are appealing, I have a hard time feeling a connection to them. I was just reading about Padre Pio online the other day. They are exhuming him so people can view his body in commemoration of his death forty years ago. He was made a saint in 2002. The article says that the stigmata are not visible on his body. I think that is why it is so hard to pray to the saints. It seems that most of the world is in disbelief of the saints – especially the present day saints. Padre Pio was known for having the stigmata, and for fighting with the devil at night.
I can imagine the life of Padre Pio in my mind. A life lived in difficulty. Fighting demons. And having something that probably caused him a great deal of shame, or if not shame, embarrassment – with the stigmata.
Like Padre Pio, we all have our devils. We all have the demons that we have to fight at night. But actually fighting with the devil is something I hope I never have to do. I find it hard enough to battle with the small demons that haunt me at night. This is why I find it hard to pray with the saints – I’m not worthy enough to speak with them.
And like Padre Pio, we all have our own forms of the stigmata. We all have things that define us, and at the same time shame us. These are the things that give us character – and hopefully, if we can be anything like Padre Pio, we can see the image of God in them.
But even so. Even though I know deep down inside that I am not worthy to pray with them, I do sometimes try to pray to them. I try to remember that they were human, after all. Yes, they did have to do things in a more profound way, but perhaps by praying to them, and looking at their lives, I can gain a little bit of strength to go on with my own. So, I’d like you all to take the time to pray with me, and look at the lives of the saints, and try to incorporate their lives into our own.