The walk (Conclusion)

Before I conclude this piece, I wanted to apologize for the delay. Some incredible things are happening which I will share shortly. But before the daily miracles unfold, I must conclude this part.

One of the recommendations the priest in Lourdes gave me was to seek a spiritual director. He also told me to look into Opus Dei. However, as is easy to do, upon my return I became extremely busy with getting ready for the new school year. It was a new district and a new program so there was a lot to do. I managed to put a call in to Opus Die and I did not hear a response for awhile. As the silence ensued, one thing led to another and I busied out with the beginning of school of the school year.

October came and I was consumed with a flurry of activity at the school and just as I could take a breather the news came. On October 13th, 2009, I was contacted by an old family friend of my adoptive father. They had been neighbors in Hialeah, Fla for many many years. She did not have my number. I had decided years earlier to keep only a cell number and had disconnected my land line. She was unsure about my address as my surname had changed. Because of my picture on facebook, she finally had tracked me down a year later. Late in the night as we quickly reacquainted ourselves, she told me the news that my father had died in July of 2007. She told me she had found out by accident much later as well.

Aside from shock, his unusual and tragic death sent me reeling into a whirlpool of emotions. Because he had no other advocate, I took it upon myself to investigate the circumstances thoroughly and pay my last respects while picking up his ashes in Florida. For a variety of reasons, at this time I will not share the from particulars of what happened to my father. I will only say that I had no choice put to pursue justice.

The confession and miracle in Lourdes was a preparation for this moment. And there are many reasons this event changed the course of my life. For one, I realized we don't live in a bubble. It is not natural to turn away from God, family and friends but my adoptive father had done exactly this. Self-defensiveness, mistrust, self-condemnation and a destructive manner of relating to those closest to him led him to successfully accomplishing his complete alienation from those closest to him.

In my research of the hospital records shortly before his demise, I discovered for the first time what no-one had known. My adoptive father had a congenital malformation of the brain. Aside from this his brain had atrophied and he had Alzheimer's that developed with age. We had new eyes and sympathy for him. We had ignorantly judged him and made our decisions. And the consequences of his actions led to him being the victim of an unnoticed, disgraced and perilous death.

My emotions sent me reeling. I went from rationalization to grief to second guessing. How could I have known I would be his only advocate? He had blood family and lifelong friends who were his neighbors for well over a decade. Even though you can't have a relationship with someone who is harmful and unequivocally pulls away, I wondered if I should have been a bit more involved. Perhaps, I could have kept in touch with the friend who knew of his whereabouts and just called every so often to see that he was OK. The geographical distance and his unwillingness to give any contact information to me made this difficult. However, more to the heart of the matter was my unwillingness to forgive through the years that had caused my silence. That silence now had caused me acute pain. I was at least grateful that in Lourdes my heart awakened to forgiveness for him.

The complications surrounding his death consumed a large portion of my time and energy for the following months. I also became more aware of my own mortality and realized we don't have any guarantees about how many days we have left. Many life changing events transpired between then and now in part as a result of this, and I finally accepted the pause God wanted me to take in mid March of this year. As I pursued justice and the vocational call to marriage, I made a few more attempts to get in touch with a spiritual director and then finally the door opened.

In late July 2010 I went to a talk on discernment and became aware of a 19th annotation retreat. They said there was an option to do St. Ignatius' spiritual exercises at home in your daily life with the aid of a spiritual director.

I finally signed up a little over a month later in August and met Father Kevin Ballard in early September. Our first talk seemed divinely choreographed. He told me the history of St. Ignatius. He said the Spanish St. Ignatius had had his first spiritual experience in Pamplona, Spain. St.Ignatius then went to live in Montseratt after his conversion. Father Ballard was also wearing a T-shirt from Missouri. This is where a friend had moved to just a week earlier to join an order in accepting her vocational call. I then shared with Father Ballard the details of my trip to Pamplona and Lourdes a year earlier and also a trip to Montserrat I took in 2007. During the discourse, I suddenly felt as though I was exactly where I should be at this moment.

I realize now that my accidental? trip to Lourdes a year earlier was one of God's unceasing ways to call me. This time our heavenly father employed Mary more fully to do His bidding. What Jesus had been waiting for HE finally received..my full embraced Yes! And much to my surprise it is yielding the greatest and most joyous path for me.

The walk (Part 2)

I was happy to skip confession due to the inconvenience with my schedule. After all, a lot of what was requisite in order to get to that point was not natural to me or at least not natural to the adult I had become. Humility, self-examination and self disclosure were qualities I had disdain for. This was due to familial and cultural messages I had received. This translates to two main things I struggled with since my tweens, an inordinately hard time trusting and an inordinate amount of pride.

I had been reading a book entitled "Talking about Miracles" by Dr. Patrick Thellier in the evenings and this may last evening was no exception. It was written by a physician who was the twelfth doctor to head the Lourdes Medical Bureau. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lourdes_Medical

I was poetically on the last chapter of the book. The last chapter riveted me because it had unequivocally stated that if you miss some of the things to do while in Lourdes its OK but do NOT miss confession. I put the book down and reluctantly thought well OK. I was open to where the signs lead me because this trip was proving to be magical on lots of levels despite going through all the motions of typical tourism for me.

The first difference I noticed was that it was the antithesis of my experience in Medjugorje*. Everything was free. The tours, the healing baths, the waters, the museums ,the movies at the center, the masses and the adoration of the cross. Although there were some donation boxes around , no person ever asked for a donation or even implied it and not even at mass:-) Everyone who worked there was a volunteer. The priests leading the tours and the men and women helping with the baths were all there because they wanted to be. They believed and seemed blessed in the service they were providing. The only thing I paid for while there was my room at the convent which included meals, the movies I watched at the theaters and the plastic jugs I filled with the free healing water.

At mass I met a young woman who had come to bring healing water for her nephew who had a terminal and incurable condition. This touched me as a more urgent reason to come than my own of simple curiosity. I immediately prayed for her and her nephew during the mass. After the homily the priest suggested we get to know the person next to us in the pew during the sign of peace and to pray for their needs. This coincidence was one of many.

The experience that what was most significant for me however were the unprovoked and unique thoughts that came to me during my stay. I will share the most poignant one for me. It was on suffering. More specifically, it was the suffering in relationship.

I thought of Christ on the cross and everything he endured and yet his Love for us was steadfast. The words Jesus uttered from the cross of "Forgive them Father for they know not what they do" were always one of my favorite and had led to my initial belief in Christ back in college. But this time the words spoke clearly of the magnificence of Love. Love would not be Love without suffering. In other words, if someone suffers for you their Love seems deeper and in some sense genuine. If Christ had not suffered and died for us would his Love mean as much? If he had just healed and preached and then just bid everyone adieu as he ascended into heaven would HE and God have touched us as much?

In our own lives, think of the people who have hurt you the most. Did you forgive them and still love them? If you did this from a position of freedom and strength the action would have meant all the more. For the fortunate few that have experienced this, how did this feel? What was your response?

If we are in the image of God and God dwells within us to reveal our true nature, then ultimately we are called to Love in this fashion. Suffering then tests our Love and makes it deeper and real. A beautiful yet scary realization for me.

With this in mind, I first did my confession in my room to God in private. After pouring out my heart, I did what was hardest for me to do to which was to forgive my adoptive father. Amidst tears I heard a voice say, "you have a beautiful heart." Before falling asleep I looked up the confession schedule in the morning and decided to go to the earliest confession before leaving.

The following morning I went into the room where confessions were being heard. There were a multitude of languages offered. Only two applied to me, English and Spanish. My confession to God the night before was in English and so I wanted an English speaking priest but they were all busy. I looked at a Spanish speaking priest and saw his room was empty and available. I looked inside and he seemed stern to me. Nevertheless, I went in and had a great conversation and confession.

I basically repeated what I had told God the night before and amidst my tears the priest said "tienes un corazon muy bonito"(you have a beautiful heart). He told me that "la virgen te acariciado durante tu visita" in other words that the virgin Mary had caressed my face during my visit there. He asked me a few questions about vocation and whether I wanted to marry. He then gave me some recommendations for what to seek out and do when I returned back to the bay area. I left in awe. It was the most authentic, humbling and self disclosing confession and experience I had ever had. It was not only healing and validating but led to me a very different point in my spiritual journey.

Part 3 will tie in how this experience has led to my present walk. *Also if you would like to know a little more on my Medjugorje experience, please let me know and I will include in the next part.

The walk (Part 1)

As promised I will now elaborate on my trip to Lourdes and why that was such a momentous occasion. In reality the thread started earlier, but in this particular trip and in this particular moment, I became aware that Mary was gently bringing me to God. This story will have a part 1 and part 2. This part will focus on some background and the next on more significant events that tie to present day.

Prior to my summer vacation in 2009, lots happened that was unusual and jolting but I had responded in typical pragmatic form in the end. I landed another teaching position with the same and different requisites.

I always travel to some fun and mischievous international destination most summers as a way to rejuvenate and regroup. The summer of 2009 was no exception. I had a friend living in Pamplona, Spain at the time. We had been conversing about when the best time to visit would be months earlier. The "running of the bulls" happened in early July and her vacation coincided with Pamplona's claim to fame. These "runs" lasted about 10 days with all night parties. It sounded like great fun! As I planned for my trip and coordinated the dates with professional obligations I had at home, I noticed Pamplona was close to France and then saw it was so close to Lourdes, France.

At this juncture, I should briefly explain why I recognized Lourdes. I had been raised a Catholic but rather surrendered the formal faith somewhere around the age of 15 for many reasons. One particular reason was that I felt the moral standards were too lax. The revolving door of sinning and confession for the same sins grated against my condescending disposition at the time.

On the other hand the Mormons seemed to walk the talk more. Of course, my focus was narrow again namely on the parameters of drugs and sex. In 1990 or thereabouts I had left Mormonism and after some study of the New Testament in the Bible, decided to investigate the Catholic Church with much reluctance. Reluctance because I had left this faith. It was in a little church called St. John Vianney that I decided to start my inquiry. It was here I was introduced to a movie called the "Story of Bernadette" which was a story of a girl who had supposedly seen the virgin Mary in Lourdes, France. It made a big impression at the time.

However, many years had passed, and in 2002 I had since gone to a disillusioning trip to Medjugorje, (another supposed Virgin Mary apparition happening since 1981). Marian apparitions lost significance for me after that. Nevertheless, since Lourdes was so close to Pamplona, curiosity and some time to kill led to me to take two days of my trip there.

After witnessing the crazy tradition in Pamplona as well as attending my first bullfight, I was spent on the human and animal carnage. I did however have some great times hanging with my friend, meeting new people, doing mischievous yet harmless things and eating good food. I then drove to Lourdes and stayed at what I refer to as a nunnery. Nothing unusual here as I had stayed at a monastary in Mallorca the last time I was in Spain. They were both safe and affordable havens.

I quickly set out to do everything I could do while there typical Angela tourism style. But almost immediately I felt something very different. I felt a peace and almost other worldliness while there. The deeper details and more interesting part of this blog will follow in part 2. What follows is the superficial chronology of what I did while there.

As I mentioned earlier I tried to do everything of interest while there. I went to see movies on Bernadette's life, did the tour of the house she grew up in, visited the grotto where Mary appeared and filled some jugs with holy water there. I went to the museum of authenticated miraculous cures. I lit a candle and said a prayer for a friend who requested to find a job. I went to Mass and the adoration of the cross. Lastly, or so I thought, I went to the bookstore to get some mementos, gifts for friends and books. It was night and raining again, and I was due to leave the next morning and so I thought, oh well, confession will have to be skipped. (To be continued)

BTW If you are curious about Lourdes, here are a couple of links that gives a good overview.
http://gofrance.about.com/od/othercities/a/lourdes.htm

http://witcombe.sbc.edu/sacredplaces/lourdes.html, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bernadette_Soubirou

Moral Heroes

I started reading a book by Scott Peck entitled "In Search Of Stones". Some of you may have read or heard about his other book "The Road Less Traveled". I casually picked this particular book up while browsing a used bookstore waiting for a friend. It seemed to offer some insights so I picked it up.

While I admire Peck's honesty in regards to his moral shortcomings and bad choices repeatedly made and some he still makes, it put me in a quandary. It's something that has bothered me ever since I can remember. It has caused me undue grief in my personal and professional life, and I am anxious to turn the corner on a peaceful yet just solution to the matter. This will take God to help and guide me and time.

OK, Angela, spit it out, what the heck are you talking about? Sin. From the fact we commit it at all, to our rational lies (rationalize) about them, to those who deny the sin or feel comfortable in always being forgiven by our ever loving Heavenly Father.

My struggle started super young and has obviously morphed. I think I was about 5 or 6 when my mother and father introduced me to the concept of sin. They told me that Jesus died for our sins and that we all sin. My first thought was wow I can't believe He had to suffer this way, gosh we suck! Then my thoughts turned to me in particular. What do you mean I Have to sin? No I Will not! Why am I being condemned before being given a chance? These thoughts should come as no surprise given my "Earliest Memory" blog entry written earlier.

Well needless to say not only have I sinned but just about broken all the 10 commandments in one form or another more times then I can possibly remember. In my tween years, I just remember focusing on the stuff that seemed to control people, namely drugs and sex. I thought it's nuts that people HAD to drink coffee, smoke cigarettes, and/or drink in order to function and that SEX ruled so much of people's actions.

Most of us have a choice of whether to put ourselves in tempting situations. For most of us it also involves some choice to cross the line and once crossed it is easier to cross again. And, some of us can become addicted. Sex however is natural and it's power necessary to bring men and women together for procreation and union. For me it's all about how we view it, our bodies and others.

In my tween's, I foresaw the degeneration of values and embarrassingly even hoped for it. I thought, if I can wait to sleep with a man until marriage then I will be a unique being. I'll be a woman who will be sought after because the supply will be much less then demand. Ah that pragmaticism started early! Sadly, not only was I right that about the decline in sexual mores but there is now disdain and skepticism in the value of chasteness. Yet it is in this era and in this culture that the power of God and His grace can be such a powerful witness to what we are destined for.

So why do I bring this up? Because Scott Peck's admission of infidelity was accompanied by the statement that the majority of men and more than a handful of women commit adultery. He made it somehow seem that we are destined to do these things given our natures.

Yet something allowed me to see that it just wasn't the fact that we sin that bothered me. It was that some of his views pointed to a cultural view of intimacy between a man and a woman that disregards the sacredness and respect for sexual intimacy. His focus on lust's waning and the mundane feeling that happens after many many years of marriage seemed poignant of the disconnect from what we fantasize to what the reality of marriage is. It's a good reality. The call to love someone else more than yourself, to sacrifice and even suffer at times through trials and even the mundane is what gives meaning to love. How deep can love become when it is in service to God and the other through good times and in bad, in sickness and in health? How can love that deepens in this way ever be mundane?

So who better to point the way to holy love than a moral hero? I grew up with Mother Theresa and Pope John Paul whom in my mind were moral heroes. Not sinless but just loving enough and open enough to God that His grace exposed the holier side of human nature. While they were alive, we were inspired and our conscience's provoked simultaneously.

It's made me think we are capable of so much more than being a slave to sin. We are in fact capable of being Moral Heroes. May God bless us daily with examples of all virtues, and that we will desire to cultivate those virtues in ourselves. Matthew Chapter 5 verses 1-48 can guide us, and it reveals what we are capable of. It ends ironically with verse 48 below. May we all begin to experience this ecstasy one day.

"Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+5&version=NIV

A labor of love

Labor day is usually a sign of many things in our culture. It symbolizes a break from the start of the school year for some. For others it marks the end of summer. For yet others, it is a reminder that a myriad of holidays is right around the corner and the year will be over. For some it is either a time to be thankful for working, a reminder of work or a time to be looking and praying for work in the the newly coined phrase "in this economy".

Any economy has boundless opportunities whether our focus is broad and flexible or narrow and focused. The definition and the attributes of the work and it's remuneration is what stress us sometimes. That definition which is created by our broad and narrow subcultures can imprison us if we allow it too.

Taking some time off or retiring early are rarely seen as options even though a lot of us don't have familial obligations. It seems fear is an equal opportunity visitor no matter what the financial condition of the individual. If you have a job and are afraid of losing it, if you don't have a job and want one, if you are taking time off and worry about what is next, if you are retired and worry about a health concern or worry if you have enough resources to last if you should live a long life. We all seem to be so tempted to live in the future and a possible bleak one to boot.

I certainly don't advocate throwing caution to the wind and not trying to plan. But there is only so much control you have. Labor, the remunerated kind, for me has rarely been about a labor of love. First, it was about making as much money as I could in a pragmatic way with my marketable skills. Then it was about finding something fulfilling or a passion that made economic sense. The call to teach in a public school system or in a church or in your own business or in some other capacity look different and teach you different things. Despite how passionately I felt about what I taught and about the children, I always cloaked it with the highest return on investment.

I've always relied on and admired my pragmatic nature. It has ruled my work and my relationships. But at many points during my journey, my heart pulled my elsewhere. In a sense, perhaps, my pragmatic nature has pulled me away from some potentially fulfilling relationships and from following my true vocational call.

So here I am at a crossroads--not by my own choice--because my pragmatic-ism would not have allowed it--but nevertheless a choice after not being chosen:-). I know this is a definitive sign and my grand opportunity again. My opportunity to break free from the should, the pragmatic ism and the worry and to finally let God in completely first and let him lead me day by day.

It is perhaps the growth, the prior steps, the life experience that finally yields to the wisdom to "give us this day our daily bread..." and that putting God first is the sweet surrender of worry and the only place where we can put our trust and happiness.

Yes, we all toil and all work has it's value. Yet, let us not forget Matthew 6:24-34 (Luke 12:24-27)

24 "No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon. 25 "Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27 And which of you by being anxious can add one cubit to his span of life? 28 And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin; 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O men of little faith? 31 Therefore do not be anxious, saying, `What shall we eat?' or `What shall we drink?' or `What shall we wear?' 32 For the Gentiles seek all these things; and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well. 34 "Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day's own trouble be sufficient for the day.


　

Dating Strangers

There were a lot of memorable events during this past almost 4 day backpacking trip. It was the first of many I hope to come. I never thought I would consider myself the type. Camping is only a once in awhile thing for me. But many things made this experience unique. First, I had awesome gear some good friends lent me. Second, I slept in a tent by myself for the first time. I wish someone had vehemently told me about this option earlier. Dating of course it would seem rude to request your own tent. But after this experience, I will only acquiesce if I am engaged, and he doesn’t snore. Lastly, I had some experienced and heavy duty backpackers as companions.

The beauty, ruggedness and sanctuary feel to the experience was amazing. We camped out by a beautiful lake, and we were the only campers around! Sculpted walls and mountains surrounded the tranquil lakes. Pushing my limits physically and psychologically were both exhilarating and humbling. Tackling this adventure took a huge leap of faith for me, and I am glad I did it.

Along with the physical and psychological newness of the adventure came thoughts of an old adventure I have always hoped I would one day tackle..marriage. It takes many of the ingredients enlisted on this trip, with one huge extra ingredient, love. As I pondered how I might get to the goal, I recognized that the adventures I had overwhelmingly embarked on were in fact dating strangers.

The romance, the intrigue, the mystery of meeting someone new and enveloping on a whirlwind romantic adventure is exciting. Hollywood, friends and sometimes even family egg us on to the ritual of dating a stranger. Meeting through a social or church group, meeting at the grocery store, a baseball game, a dance, online or whereever can all be great beginnings to relationships if developed over time. However, it usually starts immediately with sparks and some type of marched on courtship. From a woman’s point of view, the wining and dining, the chocolates and flowers, the beach walking hand in hand, the flattering language and gifts are not only very desirable but to some degree necessary.

What comes later is not only human but a necessary ingredient for love--reality. As humans we all gifted with traits so amazing--anyone would be lucky to have us. We also possess traits that some would find challenging and others could not live with. Some of these traits can not only be handled but cherished with love. The fullness of both sides of the equation comes with time and friendship. The antithesis of romance with a stranger.

And for me specifically, it usually comes at a high price. It seems like I have dated half of the bay area strangers by now. What rarely comes for me in these short romances is love and real love from the temporary boyfriend I have, despite what he proclaims. What he is feeling is some degree of extreme attraction and liking certain superficial character traits I seem to possess. He doesn’t know me any better than I know him. We are barely scratching the surface and so how can any feeling be deep or long lasting much less truly grow into love.

So what’s the solution? Beats me..its why I am still single I guess. One thing I do know is that the initial attraction that is delayed, interrupted and developed through friendship does lead to love for me. It has only happened on rare occasions, and it is both a treat and a great risk. The treat is that the hope for love is enhanced and the risk is that you may lose the friendship, and suffer a truly broken heart. At this point in my life, I’d rather have a broken heart than date another stranger.

My Earliest Memory

A more timely blog this week:-) Thanks to those who have commented. I welcome feedback as I am still a beginning blogger. I joined the red room, a writer’s forum, about 6 months ago. They sent me an email with this topic as a blog suggestion. So here goes!

One of my very first memories goes back to when I was about 1 to 1 and a half years old. I have a few memories around this age but I will focus on only one. As a caveat, I will relay my thoughts in the language I think I must have used. In all honesty, I just remember the feelings and the general thoughts. The memory is brief and I can’t remember many details around me. I was very much in my own little world and just remember disruptions to this reality. No wise cracks in silence or otherwise! And of course a philosophical commentary ends the muse.

I know that I was with my mom and that she was grooming me for something. There were people around as I heard voices in the background. I felt like my head was in a fog and I hated that sensation. My mom as I remember was a strong but gentle woman with a soothing voice. She was combing my hair and was putting a small portion of it in a pig tail on top of my head. I felt extreme pain as she pulled my hair, and my head bobbed to and fro. I grimaced from the pain all the while feeling this foggy head. The next thing I knew she was picking me up. As this happened, I thought to myself I hate that people can pick me up when they want and I can’t stop it. Then I remember more cranky thoughts simultaneously. I hate that my head is in a fog, and I can’t shake it. I hate that I can’t really control my arms very well (they flayed around a bit). I don’t know where to put my hand so I think I’ll just rest it on my mom’s shoulder. Should my hand be open or closed? I think closed. Good at least I can prop myself up. Good grief I hope this is over soon.

Well it is and isn’t over:-) My head is rarely in a fog these days and I can control my arms very well. People do not pick me up at will and I have control over that pretty much. Now, however, I realize I don’t have control over other things. I can’t will a relationship to be...even when the other person is willing it too! Although I can influence people around me to a certain degree, I can’t really control the actions of those around me. Jobs, companies and industries change and morph with time. People leave in various forms thru relocation, change in values or needs, relationship status and ultimately death. And even my own gift of life which I can influence with the things I do, say, the values I embrace and the things I eat...can never guarantee me a long life. My exit is just as much of a mystery as my entrance.

So I’m hoping what I am learning is that although I will always find things I don’t have control over....the one thing I do have control over is the same thing I had control over at 1 and a half. My state of mind. I can chose to love every minute of my existence and choose to see and feel God in every stroke of life. I can choose to see how each moment brings me closer to God, to love and to others. And I can choose to love the beauty of ambiguity and not having control. Afterall, by design, it seems this is the way it should be. We are all connected. Ironically, although I find I have less control than I think..God gives the grand promise that with HIM all things are possible.