Tomorrow is the last day of our St. Ignatius retreat at our church. The first half of the retreat was unbelieveable (see this, this, and this). I admit though, I didn't do so hot with the second half. I definitely let myself slack off during Holy Week (of all weeks!) and haven't done a single holy hour this week. I did however, manage to squeeze one last drop of "fruit" out of the retreat, which has taught me so much since beginning so many weeks ago.
At the end of the retreat, St. Ignatius invites us to do a meditation called Contemplation to Attain Love of God. I went through it briefly tonight and was so excited by what I saw.
Seven or eight years ago I happened upon a prayer in the back of the missal/hymnal at church. I'm the kind of person that reads everything in sight. Cereal boxes, billboards, you name it. I was probably at church waiting for Mass to begin and trying to occupy my mind. I read a prayer by St. Ignatius, that was amidst all of the other prayers listed in the back of this book. I loved the prayer immediately. I remember trying to say it in my head over and over again to commit it to memory. I wasn't at my usual church for that Mass and the missal they used was different than the one at my own parish. I knew this prayer wasn't listed in our missal (because I read the whole thing through five times already!) By the time Mass was over, I had completely forgotten about the prayer.
Many times over the course of the next several years I would stumble upon that same prayer in the back of that same missal at various churches I visited. I always tried to memorize it and never succeeded. I remember always wishing I had something to write on so I could copy the prayer and try to learn it. Once I scribbled it on the back of my checkbook, but forgot about it later and threw it out when I switched banks. I googled it a few times, but could never remember enough of it to find it online. It was the ever alluding prayer.
The reason I liked the prayer so much was that it encompassed everything that needed to be prayed. Giving God everything. Accepting what He has in store. That's really all that is needed. That wasn't that difficult of a thing to do at the time I was in search of that alluding prayer, but now.....
I'm sure you've picked up on the fact that that very same prayer was the prayer at the end of the Ignatius retreat. I finally have it in my possession. God's hand is very clear in this. I was attracted to the prayer initially, but not quite ready to pray it. Although I wanted to pray it and mean it, it would have been a big stretch from my actual relationship with God at that time. I'm not saying I'm there now (at the point of giving everything I have and receiving whatever He gives) but I'm closer. Especially with the knowledge and graces that have come from doing this retreat. I needed to learn more, discover more about myself, God, and accepting His will before I could truly pray this prayer and mean it.
If nothing else, I think this is a clear sign that I need to be praying this prayer! Only good can come from giving God everything I have, including my infertility. Only good can come from accepting everything He has in store, even if that's a barren womb for all eternity. Lord, help me to pray this prayer and mean it!
Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will, all that I have and possess. Thou hast given all to me. To Thee, O Lord, I return it. All is Thine, dispose of it wholly according to Thy will. Give me Thy love and Thy grace, for this is sufficient for me.
Showing posts with label St. Ignatius. Show all posts
Showing posts with label St. Ignatius. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
My First Quick Takes
1. I strongly resisted the urge to ever do a "quick takes" or any other fad blogging post. But today, I couldn't resist. I had the urge to write about, well, 7 quick things that have been happening lately. I couldn't write about 7 quick things without giving Jen the credit for the idea. And on a Friday nonetheless! Her blog really is amazing. You should check it out if you haven't already.
2. I sewed something! Some friends of ours came down from Missouri and stayed with us during our Spring Break. Jessie is a talented "sewist" (I know "sewer" isn't right at least) and helped me make this cute box for our bookshelf. As long as you don't look at the bottom-I did a pretty good job! I really want to make more but I'm nervous I won't be able to do it without her help. I credit my inspiration to Sew and my sister-in-law Kate.
3. This cycle has been amazing! First a painless period, then no headaches from the clomid, then a PERFECT mucus cycle! I have felt some mood swings coming on (which are a side effect of clomid) but I've been able to recognize them coming and avoid a disastrous outburst. I've been telling Ted, "I'm getting really mad at you right now" and "I think I'm going to cry" in the calmest voice possible. I've managed to walk away when I'm mad and he just started praying when I was about to cry. This is MUCH better than the emotional roller coaster and constant headaches last month! Maybe the clomid will actually work....
4. Since my last post about the struggles I dealt with before marrying Ted, I've heard from several friends who are currently going through similar struggles. It seems that the only advice I'm able to give is what I've learned through the St. Ignatius retreat. Seriously, everyone needs to do this. I don't know how I ever made decisions without his help.
5. Ted and I enjoyed the sunny, 70 degree weather out on the lake today. He caught a bunch of bass and crappie that will be our dinner for the next couple of Fridays! I love spending time with him on the water, even though I just sleep and read. There's just something so special about being included in his favorite pastime (if you could even call it a pastime-more like an obsession). I'm thankful he doesn't mind that I don't fish and hope he realizes how much I enjoy just watching him do it.
6. With the retreat I haven't been reading as much as usual. I needed a book for the lake today and grabbed a Christmas gift from my brother-in-law. Come Be My Light: The Private Writing of Mother Teresa. I have had such a strong love for Mother Teresa since I was very little. I remember learning about her death in fourth grade and saving newspaper articles about her because I knew they would be treasures one day (unfortunately I have no idea where they are anymore). I've only read the first 3 chapters of the book, but I already love her more than ever. She was an incredible person, far more amazing than the world ever knew. I can't wait to read the rest!
7. Today is the Feast of St. Joseph! St. Joseph is Ted's patron saint and one of our favorites. I'm learning to relate to St. Joseph a little more since I began carrying our cross of infertility. He never had any children of his own either and was a "foster" parent to our Lord. I'm sure that wasn't the plan he had for himself, but I bet he was grateful for the way things turned out! We've been praying a novena to St. Joseph for the blessing of children and today will be the last day of our novena. Last night I told St. Joe that if we conceived this month we would name the baby after him in thanksgiving for answered prayers. I was kind of joking, but if it works I might feel pretty obligated! This isn't a problem if we have a boy, we've already been planning on using the middle name Joseph as it goes back as a middle name for three generations in Ted's family. But what if we have a girl?? I guess Josephine isn't too bad for a middle name...
Here's the prayer we've been praying. I got it from Jeremiah 29:11.
St. Joseph, you are the chaste and loving spouse of the Virgin Mary, foster father of Jesus, the protector and provider of the Holy Family and of all families. We have complete confidence in your loving care for new life and in your fidelity to the family. We commend our efforts to have a child to your prayers and protection. Intercede for us to God the Father that we might be blessed with the gift of new life. Help us always to defend the gift of human life that it may grow to the abundance of eternal life promised and bestowed on us by Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Not My Will
I had a liberating and life changing realization last night. And I don't say that lightly. For whatever reason, God has bless me with many "ah-ha!" moments throughout the last couple of weeks. If there's one thing I've learned from St. Ignatius it's that we need to remember the good times, the times of consolation, so that can be ready when the bad times come. I'm definitely in a "good time" with God right now. He's speaking. I'm listening. We're getting a lot accomplished. But I've been a Christian long enough to know that this doesn't last forever. In an effort to prepare myself for the spiritual desert that's destined to come at some point, I need to make an accurate record of the consolations God is blessing me with at the present moment.
I was reading the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius last night during my hold hour just as I've been doing (almost) every night for the last month. I was actually a reading a paragraph that wasn't assigned for the week, which is a no-no in the retreat. We're not supposed to jump ahead. I rationalized this by saying that Father got the page numbers wrong, this paragraph was clearly supposed to go with the other ones of this week. "I'll just take care of this little problem on my own," I thought. Well, God didn't punish me for breaking the rule-he blessed me ABUNDANTLY!
The very last line of the paragraph reached out of the book and grabbed me. It sucked me in and told me something that I can't believe I've never realized before. The line read:
For everyone must keep in mind that in all that concerns the spiritual life, his progress will be in proportion to his surrender of self-love and of his own will and interests.
It's as simple as that. Unless I surrender my own will for a baby, I will never achieve my maximum potential of holiness. It's something I've heard, read, and thought about many times before, but this time it clicked. At this point, I was overwhelmed with a deep, sinking feeling in my chest and stomach. The feeling was very familiar, I've had it several other times in my life. It's the feeling of absolute fear. Fear that is so strong it brings about a physical manifestation and leaves you almost powerless to do anything about it. I was no stranger to this type of fear.
A story to help explain the present situation:
Three times over the course of my dating relationship with Ted, I experienced the same sinking feeling that I felt last night. The physical feeling was the same, only it lasted for days, even weeks at times. The first time was shortly after Ted bought my engagement ring (I didn't know it at the time). The second was on the night that Ted asked my parents for permission to marry me (again-I had no idea. I was on a women's retreat.) The most recent and final time was just a few days before our wedding. The feeling was coming from a voice in my head saying "he's not the one".
I can't even begin to describe the amount of fear I had over the possibility that that was true. I loved Ted with my whole being. I had been affirmed by God so many, many times that he was the man I was supposed to marry. This fear was completely contradictory to that affirmation. It was so strong it made me sick. I was miserable and I was afraid. Thoughts of cancelling the wedding wouldn't leave my head. I cried and cried over the thought of loosing Ted. Of God tearing him away from me because he's "not the one". I told no one.
One thing I've learned from this St. Ignatius retreat is that the devil works in secrets. "He seeks to remain hidden and does not want to be discovered...He is greatly displeased if his evil suggestions and depraved intentions are revealed...when the enemy of our human nature tempts a just soul with his wiles and seductions, he earnestly desires that they be received secretly and kept in secret." Had I known this at that time, I would NOT have kept this feeling a secret! But I told no one out of the fear that, if I actually said it out loud, it would happen. I hoped that if I just kept pushing the feeling deeper and deeper inside and shoved the thought to the back of my mind until it returned again, it would eventually go away. I just knew that the second I opened my mouth to tell someone what was going on inside of me, it would mean the end of my wedding, my marriage, and my life with the man I loved.
At this point, I had no idea if this feeling was from God or from the devil. It didn't make sense to me that God would bring me up to the week of my wedding to a wonderful, holy man and then tear him away from me days before we pledged our love and faithfulness to each other. At the same time, I knew that God's ways were not my own and that I was not to doubt the will of God.
I've since learned that God does not work in fear. That isn't one of the tools in his belt for speaking with just souls. Fear and anxiety are always the work of the devil when a soul is truly seeking to follow God's will (which I was). I didn't know that at the time. I was so confused and scared that I actually believed God might want me to leave Ted. The logical thing to do would have been to take this to prayer, to increase my time spent in Adoration, to pray an extra rosary, or to talk to a trusted friend or priest. I did none of these things. I was scared that if I truly opened myself up to what God desired, he would take Ted away from me. I wasn't willing to honestly say to God, "I don't know if this is you or the devil speaking, but tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it. If you want me to break up with Ted, I will do it. If you want me to marry him, I will do it. Not my will, but yours be done." Had I done that, the fear would have been lifted and I know that God would have told me to grab my bouquet and walk down that aisle. But I didn't say that. I was scared that God's will wouldn't be perfectly in line with my own. And I wanted MY will. I wanted to marry Ted MORE than I wanted to do God's will. I'm still shamed at the thought...
A few days before the wedding I got a call from a very good and holy friend of mine who was to serve at our wedding Mass. He was calling to check if he was invited to the rehearsal dinner, as his invitation was sent to the wrong address. (My mom did the invitations and accidentally sent his to a different friend. She got the two confused. Don't worry mom-I now know that your guardian angel made you do it.) After I apologized for the confusion, he said the words that made all the difference. "How are you doing?" he asked. But he REALLY asked. He didn't want to know if the flowers had been ordered or if the dj was lined up. He was asking how I was really doing just days before making the biggest commitment of my life. With that question came the freedom to tell another person what had been going on. I started spewing out all the fear and confusion that had plagued my life (and my stomach) for the past several days. As I talked, I started realizing how stupid it all sounded. I realized that there was NO WAY this was from God and my friend confirmed that I was right.
As soon I shed light on the secret temptings of the devil, it was gone. It only took a five minute phone conversation and the feeling was gone. I walked down that aisle with absolute confidence that this was God's will for my life. I made my vows without even the slightest amount of fear or confusion. That sinking feeling hasn't returned since. Until last night.
Back to the present:
When I read that line in St. Ignatius' book, I was overwhelmed with the sinking feeling because I was scared that I wouldn't be able to do it. I was scared that I would never achieve true holiness because I would never be able to give up my own will to have children. The devil wanted this fear. He wanted me to doubt that I could ever advance spiritually because he doesn't want me to advance! As soon as I recognized that this feeling was not from God, it was gone. It lasted only a moment, not weeks as it had in the past. Without St. Ignatius, I never would have recognized the devil at work during my holy hour.
And then it hit me! Giving up my own will to have children is completely different from my desire to marry Ted. With Ted, I could have married him even if it wasn't God's will. God wasn't going to stop me-people marry the wrong people all the time! But that's not the case with having a baby. I can't MAKE God give me a baby. I can't MAKE myself get pregnant, no matter how hard I try. If it's not God's will for us to get pregnant, there is NOTHING I can do about it! I can only do my part, and ask God to take care of the rest.
That may sound like common sense to some people, but to me it was revolutionary. I've been clinging to my own will, my own desire to have a child out of fear that if I let go of this desire, God will never give me what I want. That sounds so stupid as I type it, but it's how I really feel. I refused to give up my will and ask God if I was supposed to marry Ted because I was afraid his answer would be "no". That would only leave me with the choice of being disobedient and marrying him anyway or breaking off the relationship with the man that I had grown to love so much. I clung to my will to hold on to what I had. But what does clinging to my will to have children bring me? Nothing! God will grant us a child if he sees fit. No amount of holding on to my own desires or clinging to my own will can make us get pregnant. It won't bring us a baby. Clinging to my own will could have meant keeping Ted, but we don't have a baby to keep!
I realized last night that I have absolutely nothing to lose in surrounding my will to God's in this situation. NOTHING TO LOSE! When it came to marriage, I had everything to lose. Marriage was a very real possibility that I could make happen if I chose to, with or without God's blessing. But when it comes to pregnancy-I have nothing! I can't CHOOSE to get pregnant! What will I gain from surrendering my will and giving up my desires for a family and striving to only desire God's plan for my life? Only holiness. Only blessing. God will not "punish" me with barrenness because I gave up my desire for children, the way I feared he would "punish" me by taking Ted away. God already knows if and when he will bless us with children. It's going to happen (or not happen) whether I surrender my will or not. I literally have nothing to lose in this situation except the chance to grow in holiness and align my will with the will of God.
How many people get the opportunity to do this? How many people are given a cross that they are powerless to get rid of? I have the chance to seriously grow in holiness through this experience, through this pain. If I choose to cling to my own desires, I won't create for myself a baby in my womb. And I won't advance in my spirituality the way God desires. If I give up my desires and surrender my will to the will of God, I won't be "cursed" with barrenness forever but I will achieve holiness and the peace that only God can give. It's already been decided. God's plan is perfect. All I have to do is surrender myself to it and enjoy the ride.
Side note:
As I reflected on this, I couldn't help but be confirmed in my belief that children are an absolute GIFT. Every time. In every situation. Without exception. They can only come with the blessing of God. I pray that people of all nations and in every generation will come to this understanding and start treating each and every single child as the GIFT of God that they are.
I was reading the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius last night during my hold hour just as I've been doing (almost) every night for the last month. I was actually a reading a paragraph that wasn't assigned for the week, which is a no-no in the retreat. We're not supposed to jump ahead. I rationalized this by saying that Father got the page numbers wrong, this paragraph was clearly supposed to go with the other ones of this week. "I'll just take care of this little problem on my own," I thought. Well, God didn't punish me for breaking the rule-he blessed me ABUNDANTLY!
The very last line of the paragraph reached out of the book and grabbed me. It sucked me in and told me something that I can't believe I've never realized before. The line read:
For everyone must keep in mind that in all that concerns the spiritual life, his progress will be in proportion to his surrender of self-love and of his own will and interests.
It's as simple as that. Unless I surrender my own will for a baby, I will never achieve my maximum potential of holiness. It's something I've heard, read, and thought about many times before, but this time it clicked. At this point, I was overwhelmed with a deep, sinking feeling in my chest and stomach. The feeling was very familiar, I've had it several other times in my life. It's the feeling of absolute fear. Fear that is so strong it brings about a physical manifestation and leaves you almost powerless to do anything about it. I was no stranger to this type of fear.
A story to help explain the present situation:
Three times over the course of my dating relationship with Ted, I experienced the same sinking feeling that I felt last night. The physical feeling was the same, only it lasted for days, even weeks at times. The first time was shortly after Ted bought my engagement ring (I didn't know it at the time). The second was on the night that Ted asked my parents for permission to marry me (again-I had no idea. I was on a women's retreat.) The most recent and final time was just a few days before our wedding. The feeling was coming from a voice in my head saying "he's not the one".
I can't even begin to describe the amount of fear I had over the possibility that that was true. I loved Ted with my whole being. I had been affirmed by God so many, many times that he was the man I was supposed to marry. This fear was completely contradictory to that affirmation. It was so strong it made me sick. I was miserable and I was afraid. Thoughts of cancelling the wedding wouldn't leave my head. I cried and cried over the thought of loosing Ted. Of God tearing him away from me because he's "not the one". I told no one.
One thing I've learned from this St. Ignatius retreat is that the devil works in secrets. "He seeks to remain hidden and does not want to be discovered...He is greatly displeased if his evil suggestions and depraved intentions are revealed...when the enemy of our human nature tempts a just soul with his wiles and seductions, he earnestly desires that they be received secretly and kept in secret." Had I known this at that time, I would NOT have kept this feeling a secret! But I told no one out of the fear that, if I actually said it out loud, it would happen. I hoped that if I just kept pushing the feeling deeper and deeper inside and shoved the thought to the back of my mind until it returned again, it would eventually go away. I just knew that the second I opened my mouth to tell someone what was going on inside of me, it would mean the end of my wedding, my marriage, and my life with the man I loved.
At this point, I had no idea if this feeling was from God or from the devil. It didn't make sense to me that God would bring me up to the week of my wedding to a wonderful, holy man and then tear him away from me days before we pledged our love and faithfulness to each other. At the same time, I knew that God's ways were not my own and that I was not to doubt the will of God.
I've since learned that God does not work in fear. That isn't one of the tools in his belt for speaking with just souls. Fear and anxiety are always the work of the devil when a soul is truly seeking to follow God's will (which I was). I didn't know that at the time. I was so confused and scared that I actually believed God might want me to leave Ted. The logical thing to do would have been to take this to prayer, to increase my time spent in Adoration, to pray an extra rosary, or to talk to a trusted friend or priest. I did none of these things. I was scared that if I truly opened myself up to what God desired, he would take Ted away from me. I wasn't willing to honestly say to God, "I don't know if this is you or the devil speaking, but tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it. If you want me to break up with Ted, I will do it. If you want me to marry him, I will do it. Not my will, but yours be done." Had I done that, the fear would have been lifted and I know that God would have told me to grab my bouquet and walk down that aisle. But I didn't say that. I was scared that God's will wouldn't be perfectly in line with my own. And I wanted MY will. I wanted to marry Ted MORE than I wanted to do God's will. I'm still shamed at the thought...
A few days before the wedding I got a call from a very good and holy friend of mine who was to serve at our wedding Mass. He was calling to check if he was invited to the rehearsal dinner, as his invitation was sent to the wrong address. (My mom did the invitations and accidentally sent his to a different friend. She got the two confused. Don't worry mom-I now know that your guardian angel made you do it.) After I apologized for the confusion, he said the words that made all the difference. "How are you doing?" he asked. But he REALLY asked. He didn't want to know if the flowers had been ordered or if the dj was lined up. He was asking how I was really doing just days before making the biggest commitment of my life. With that question came the freedom to tell another person what had been going on. I started spewing out all the fear and confusion that had plagued my life (and my stomach) for the past several days. As I talked, I started realizing how stupid it all sounded. I realized that there was NO WAY this was from God and my friend confirmed that I was right.
As soon I shed light on the secret temptings of the devil, it was gone. It only took a five minute phone conversation and the feeling was gone. I walked down that aisle with absolute confidence that this was God's will for my life. I made my vows without even the slightest amount of fear or confusion. That sinking feeling hasn't returned since. Until last night.
Back to the present:
When I read that line in St. Ignatius' book, I was overwhelmed with the sinking feeling because I was scared that I wouldn't be able to do it. I was scared that I would never achieve true holiness because I would never be able to give up my own will to have children. The devil wanted this fear. He wanted me to doubt that I could ever advance spiritually because he doesn't want me to advance! As soon as I recognized that this feeling was not from God, it was gone. It lasted only a moment, not weeks as it had in the past. Without St. Ignatius, I never would have recognized the devil at work during my holy hour.
And then it hit me! Giving up my own will to have children is completely different from my desire to marry Ted. With Ted, I could have married him even if it wasn't God's will. God wasn't going to stop me-people marry the wrong people all the time! But that's not the case with having a baby. I can't MAKE God give me a baby. I can't MAKE myself get pregnant, no matter how hard I try. If it's not God's will for us to get pregnant, there is NOTHING I can do about it! I can only do my part, and ask God to take care of the rest.
That may sound like common sense to some people, but to me it was revolutionary. I've been clinging to my own will, my own desire to have a child out of fear that if I let go of this desire, God will never give me what I want. That sounds so stupid as I type it, but it's how I really feel. I refused to give up my will and ask God if I was supposed to marry Ted because I was afraid his answer would be "no". That would only leave me with the choice of being disobedient and marrying him anyway or breaking off the relationship with the man that I had grown to love so much. I clung to my will to hold on to what I had. But what does clinging to my will to have children bring me? Nothing! God will grant us a child if he sees fit. No amount of holding on to my own desires or clinging to my own will can make us get pregnant. It won't bring us a baby. Clinging to my own will could have meant keeping Ted, but we don't have a baby to keep!
I realized last night that I have absolutely nothing to lose in surrounding my will to God's in this situation. NOTHING TO LOSE! When it came to marriage, I had everything to lose. Marriage was a very real possibility that I could make happen if I chose to, with or without God's blessing. But when it comes to pregnancy-I have nothing! I can't CHOOSE to get pregnant! What will I gain from surrendering my will and giving up my desires for a family and striving to only desire God's plan for my life? Only holiness. Only blessing. God will not "punish" me with barrenness because I gave up my desire for children, the way I feared he would "punish" me by taking Ted away. God already knows if and when he will bless us with children. It's going to happen (or not happen) whether I surrender my will or not. I literally have nothing to lose in this situation except the chance to grow in holiness and align my will with the will of God.
How many people get the opportunity to do this? How many people are given a cross that they are powerless to get rid of? I have the chance to seriously grow in holiness through this experience, through this pain. If I choose to cling to my own desires, I won't create for myself a baby in my womb. And I won't advance in my spirituality the way God desires. If I give up my desires and surrender my will to the will of God, I won't be "cursed" with barrenness forever but I will achieve holiness and the peace that only God can give. It's already been decided. God's plan is perfect. All I have to do is surrender myself to it and enjoy the ride.
Side note:
As I reflected on this, I couldn't help but be confirmed in my belief that children are an absolute GIFT. Every time. In every situation. Without exception. They can only come with the blessing of God. I pray that people of all nations and in every generation will come to this understanding and start treating each and every single child as the GIFT of God that they are.
Detaching from Motherhood
I'm about halfway through the Lenten/St. Ignatius retreat and I'm at a point when I'm wondering how I ever made ANY kind of spiritual progress before I read this stuff! This is life changing! At no other time in my life have things molded and conformed together the way things have been lately. With Fr. John leading the retreat, his homilies have been more than applicable lately. His preaching has been so aligned with the focus of the retreat that Mass has become part of the retreat itself! Our best friends here in Mississippi are doing it also, and it helps so much to have conversations about the lessons and how they apply to our lives. Even the music minister at church is on the retreat and it seems that even the songs at Mass are corresponding to the perfectly planned meditations written by St. Ignatius so many years ago. God is so good!
The focus of the retreat lately has been shifting to our attachments and the need to rid ourselves of them. St. Ignatius presents attachments as anything that keeps us from living the life that God has planned for us. The primary example in the exercises is the attachment to money. At first, I had a hard time relating to this. It's pretty easy to be free from the attachment to money when you don't have any! After some reflection, my attachment became pretty clear. I'm attached to motherhood.
At first I wrote this off as something that's acceptable to be attached to, even honorable perhaps. I made a vow at the alter on my wedding day to "accept children lovingly from God and bring them up in the faith". I took that vow very seriously. When I said "we will" to that vow, the only tears of the entire day welled up in my eyes and barely kept from falling down my overly made-up cheeks. It is an honorable thing to desire to have a child. For 99% of the population, this is what God desires also. But it may not be that way for us. His will might not include us getting pregnant.
I still wasn't satisfied with this though. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I was supposed to "detach" myself from my desires to be a mother. I truly believe that this desire is from God, as it's been on my heart since I was a little girl. There are certain aspects of the desire, however, that are not of God and do not correspond with his plan. When I walk through the aisles of Wal-Mart and stop to pick out a car seat, waste time at work by daydreaming about maternity leave, or imagine the fuss people will make over me if we ever do get pregnant-I'm not honoring God. I'm attaching myself to the "glamorous" life of a mother. These things are not evil, or even sinful. I realize that. But they don't lead me closer to God and his plan for my life. I can be just as attached to my desires to paint the spare bedroom blue, shop for the cutest outfits, and do all the things that only mommies get to do as someone attached to their thousands of hard-earned dollars.
This ultimately led me to the difficult question of "why do I REALLY want to have a baby?" Do I want a baby because I desire to truly give up my own will for that of another person? Because I want to love someone that way only a mother can? Because I want to become less selfish and more giving? Because I want to raise a child up for the service of God and lead them to holiness the best way I know how? Or is it because I want a super cute family picture to put on our Christmas cards? Because I want to feel included when women talk about their pregnancies and births? Because I don't want to be left out when all of our friends grow closer over the common bond of their children?
If I'm completely honest with myself, I want a baby for all of those reasons. There is a true and pure desire in me for children because of the blessing that they are to God and his kingdom. But there is also a worldly and materialistic desire to fit in with the rest of society and tout all of my "knowledge" of all things baby. This second desire is natural, of course. But it's not Godly. It doesn't bring me closer to fulfilling his plan for my life and it only makes the pain of a negative pregnancy test that much worse.
I know I need to rid myself of the worldly desires I have for a child. I can't grow in holiness if I'm clinging to thought of a "perfect" little family. How I'm going to do that, I'm not exactly sure. Prayers for the graces, obviously. Maybe we need to try to keep from talking so much about our non-existent children of the future. Maybe I need to take a break from reading up on parenting tips and motherhood. As I said before, these things aren't bad, but they definitely aren't helping. Anyone else have any suggestions??
The focus of the retreat lately has been shifting to our attachments and the need to rid ourselves of them. St. Ignatius presents attachments as anything that keeps us from living the life that God has planned for us. The primary example in the exercises is the attachment to money. At first, I had a hard time relating to this. It's pretty easy to be free from the attachment to money when you don't have any! After some reflection, my attachment became pretty clear. I'm attached to motherhood.
At first I wrote this off as something that's acceptable to be attached to, even honorable perhaps. I made a vow at the alter on my wedding day to "accept children lovingly from God and bring them up in the faith". I took that vow very seriously. When I said "we will" to that vow, the only tears of the entire day welled up in my eyes and barely kept from falling down my overly made-up cheeks. It is an honorable thing to desire to have a child. For 99% of the population, this is what God desires also. But it may not be that way for us. His will might not include us getting pregnant.
I still wasn't satisfied with this though. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I was supposed to "detach" myself from my desires to be a mother. I truly believe that this desire is from God, as it's been on my heart since I was a little girl. There are certain aspects of the desire, however, that are not of God and do not correspond with his plan. When I walk through the aisles of Wal-Mart and stop to pick out a car seat, waste time at work by daydreaming about maternity leave, or imagine the fuss people will make over me if we ever do get pregnant-I'm not honoring God. I'm attaching myself to the "glamorous" life of a mother. These things are not evil, or even sinful. I realize that. But they don't lead me closer to God and his plan for my life. I can be just as attached to my desires to paint the spare bedroom blue, shop for the cutest outfits, and do all the things that only mommies get to do as someone attached to their thousands of hard-earned dollars.
This ultimately led me to the difficult question of "why do I REALLY want to have a baby?" Do I want a baby because I desire to truly give up my own will for that of another person? Because I want to love someone that way only a mother can? Because I want to become less selfish and more giving? Because I want to raise a child up for the service of God and lead them to holiness the best way I know how? Or is it because I want a super cute family picture to put on our Christmas cards? Because I want to feel included when women talk about their pregnancies and births? Because I don't want to be left out when all of our friends grow closer over the common bond of their children?
If I'm completely honest with myself, I want a baby for all of those reasons. There is a true and pure desire in me for children because of the blessing that they are to God and his kingdom. But there is also a worldly and materialistic desire to fit in with the rest of society and tout all of my "knowledge" of all things baby. This second desire is natural, of course. But it's not Godly. It doesn't bring me closer to fulfilling his plan for my life and it only makes the pain of a negative pregnancy test that much worse.
I know I need to rid myself of the worldly desires I have for a child. I can't grow in holiness if I'm clinging to thought of a "perfect" little family. How I'm going to do that, I'm not exactly sure. Prayers for the graces, obviously. Maybe we need to try to keep from talking so much about our non-existent children of the future. Maybe I need to take a break from reading up on parenting tips and motherhood. As I said before, these things aren't bad, but they definitely aren't helping. Anyone else have any suggestions??
Sunday, March 7, 2010
The Sacrifice of Mary and Joseph
I thought I'd share another reflection I had from the Lenten/St. Ignatius retreat. I don't know how theologically sound it is, but I've never claimed to be a theologian. (Deacon Jason, if you're reading this-feel free to correct me :)
The first part of the retreat called for reflection on ourselves and our sinfulness. The second part is asking us to reflect more on the life of Christ. St. Ignatius is leading us through a series of reflections and meditations on the different milestones in Christ's life. He ends each instruction with the words, "Reflect upon this to draw some fruit from each of these details." After a couple of dry reflections, I was getting kind of angry with him. He made "drawing fruit" sound so easy! I think I even said in my head, "I'm not getting any fruit here St. Ignatius!"
Then one meditation really hit me. It was on the birth of our Lord in Bethlehem. I was supposed to do this reflection on Thursday, which was cycle day 1, and that's what caused the major meltdown. By Saturday, I was ready to do it. I read through the Nativity story (in Luke of course) and pictured myself as a "little unworthy slave" attending to Mary during and after the birth of Christ. I found myself observing the beautiful sacrifices that Mary and Joseph endured for their Son. It hit me that Mary and Joseph (and especially Mary) are the two people that have sacrificed and suffered more for Christ than any other human beings on the face of the earth. Not that others haven't laid down their lives for him, many are still doing so, but Mary and Joseph sacrificed for him in the flesh. Without the initial sacrifices of Mary and Joseph, there would be no Christian today to even have the ability to lay down their life for Christ. They offered up so much pain and suffering for this tiny, very human, little baby. No one on earth will ever be able to offer that much to Christ, as his earthly body is no longer with us. (except in the Eucharist of course!)
That wasn't the "fruit" though. That was just a realization. It then occurred to me, as I continued to watch this unfold as a "little slave", that at the time of their sacrifices and suffering, Mary and Joseph had NO IDEA what kind of sacrifice their Son would return to them. They gave him absolutely everything they had, but he gave them back so much more. They sacrificed and suffered to bring him into this world, but he gave his very life so that they could have eternal life when they left it. Not to diminish the sacrifice of Jesus' mom and dad, but it paled in comparison to the sacrifice of their Son for them! They sacrificed more than any other human ever did or ever can, yet it's nowhere near the level of sacrifice that Jesus offered to us on the cross.
And now for the "fruit". My sacrifice and suffering from not being able to have children is so small in comparison to the sacrifices of Mary and Joseph. Even if I offered EVERY SINGLE tear and heartache to our Lord (which, I assure you, I don't) it would never equal the level of sacrifice that Jesus' parents made for him. And since even their beautiful sacrifice wasn't equal to the sacrifice he made for them, how could I ever expect mine to be?
Even I spent the rest of my life barren and miserable, offering all of my sorrow to Jesus, I would still not be able to measure up to his sacrifice. I should be GRATEFUL for the sorrow that comes with infertility because it brings me one tiny step closer to offering back to Jesus what he offered for me on the cross. (I said it-grateful! I know it with my head, I don't think I feel it in my heart yet.) And that realization was some "fruit" worth chewing on.
The first part of the retreat called for reflection on ourselves and our sinfulness. The second part is asking us to reflect more on the life of Christ. St. Ignatius is leading us through a series of reflections and meditations on the different milestones in Christ's life. He ends each instruction with the words, "Reflect upon this to draw some fruit from each of these details." After a couple of dry reflections, I was getting kind of angry with him. He made "drawing fruit" sound so easy! I think I even said in my head, "I'm not getting any fruit here St. Ignatius!"
Then one meditation really hit me. It was on the birth of our Lord in Bethlehem. I was supposed to do this reflection on Thursday, which was cycle day 1, and that's what caused the major meltdown. By Saturday, I was ready to do it. I read through the Nativity story (in Luke of course) and pictured myself as a "little unworthy slave" attending to Mary during and after the birth of Christ. I found myself observing the beautiful sacrifices that Mary and Joseph endured for their Son. It hit me that Mary and Joseph (and especially Mary) are the two people that have sacrificed and suffered more for Christ than any other human beings on the face of the earth. Not that others haven't laid down their lives for him, many are still doing so, but Mary and Joseph sacrificed for him in the flesh. Without the initial sacrifices of Mary and Joseph, there would be no Christian today to even have the ability to lay down their life for Christ. They offered up so much pain and suffering for this tiny, very human, little baby. No one on earth will ever be able to offer that much to Christ, as his earthly body is no longer with us. (except in the Eucharist of course!)
That wasn't the "fruit" though. That was just a realization. It then occurred to me, as I continued to watch this unfold as a "little slave", that at the time of their sacrifices and suffering, Mary and Joseph had NO IDEA what kind of sacrifice their Son would return to them. They gave him absolutely everything they had, but he gave them back so much more. They sacrificed and suffered to bring him into this world, but he gave his very life so that they could have eternal life when they left it. Not to diminish the sacrifice of Jesus' mom and dad, but it paled in comparison to the sacrifice of their Son for them! They sacrificed more than any other human ever did or ever can, yet it's nowhere near the level of sacrifice that Jesus offered to us on the cross.
And now for the "fruit". My sacrifice and suffering from not being able to have children is so small in comparison to the sacrifices of Mary and Joseph. Even if I offered EVERY SINGLE tear and heartache to our Lord (which, I assure you, I don't) it would never equal the level of sacrifice that Jesus' parents made for him. And since even their beautiful sacrifice wasn't equal to the sacrifice he made for them, how could I ever expect mine to be?
Even I spent the rest of my life barren and miserable, offering all of my sorrow to Jesus, I would still not be able to measure up to his sacrifice. I should be GRATEFUL for the sorrow that comes with infertility because it brings me one tiny step closer to offering back to Jesus what he offered for me on the cross. (I said it-grateful! I know it with my head, I don't think I feel it in my heart yet.) And that realization was some "fruit" worth chewing on.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
A Soldier of My King
The reflection is broken up into a series of points. The first point asks us to reflect on the qualities of a wonderful human king, the kind of king who all people respect and obey. It was clear to me that this king would have all of the qualities of our Lord. He would be just, yet merciful. Strong, but with a heart for the weak. Smart. Honest. Compassionate. Joyful. The list could go on and on.
The second point instructs us to consider the following address from the king: It is my will to conquer all the lands of the infidel. Therefore, whoever wishes to join with me in this enterprise must be content with the same food, drink, clothing, etc. as mine. So, too, he must work with me day by day, and watch with me by night, etc., that as he has had a share in the toil with me, afterwards, he may share in the victory with me.
The third point asks us to consider what kind of answer the faithful subjects of the king would give. A loyal subject would give a resounding "yes!" to the king and willingly follow him into whatever horror and suffering awaited.
Ignatius then draws our focus to the true King, Jesus Christ. Jesus gives the same address to his faithful subjects as did the earthly king. He asks us: Follow me in suffering so that you may follow me in glory. Wow. It didn't take long for God to clarify in my mind my calling to suffer with him. I am a solider, Christ is my King. If I contemplate on the duty and calling of a soldier, I realize it is anything but glamorous. They sleep on the ground, they eat simple meals, they keep watch throughout the night. They endure broken bones, loss of limbs, traumatic brain injuries, and worse. And they do not complain. They willing fight and die for their country and they do so without complaint. If they chose not to suffer, they would have no share in the victory.
If I expect to share in the victory of Christ, if I expect to share in the glory of heaven, I must fight beside him in the battlefield. I must suffer with him on the cross. We are all called to be suffering soldiers in the army of God. And, perhaps as a reward for my faithfulness to him, God has appointed me to this particular mission, to this particular suffering. Just as a faithful soldier would be chosen to carry out a top-secret and very dangerous mission, I have been chosen to bear a heavy and sorrowful cross. The soldier may tremble with fear as they board their jet and prepare for their mission, but the glory that awaits them in the victory is far greater than the fate that awaits the soldier who cowardly hides in the back of the line. If I truly want to share in the victory of Christ's cross, I must pick up my own, suffer along with him, and do so without complaint.
And just as the soldier who was chosen for the top-secret mission, I should be honored when I'm presented with a burden that I can return to the Lord, especially one so great and heavy. I have been blessed with infertility so that I may offer my sorrow to Christ and share fully in his glory at the end of my life. And more than a medal of honor or a purple heart, this soldier will seek to be rewarded with the words: Well done, my good and faithful "soldier".
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