For What It's Worth

One of my favorite legends of all time has been that of Robin Hood. What's not to love about a man who forgoes worldly comforts to take from the unjust excess of the rich to give to the poor? Throw in a love story and boom, I'm sold. Recently, the hubs and I watched the BBC's "Robin Hood" series on Netflix and, besides being very well-done, struck some unexpected chords with me. (Be forewarned of spoilers. So skip all the Robin Hood paragraphs if you care. But that would mean you'd pretty much have to skip my whole post. So, go watch the series first if you care about spoilers and then come back).

Over the past few months (few years) my faith has been shaken and stretched. My understanding of suffering and the militant nature of our journey on earth has been tested. I've doubted, I've cried, I've reconciled, I've fallen, I've been confused, and I've kept on believing. All of my issues seem to come from the same place: Is is all worth it?

In seasons 1-2 of "Robin Hood", Robin and Marian fight, steal, and save for the good of England. They uncover plots to cheat the people out of more money and livelihood and one to kill King Richard, who is away in the Holy Land. While their relationship goes through ups and downs, it is obvious to anyone who has ever heard the Robin Hood story before that they will end up together. Why? Because they are better together. Robin says as much when he proposes to Marian (quite possibly the best proposal I've ever heard. Yes, I know it's scripted but still. Dude. Check it out here. And men, take notes). At the end of the season, once they have saved the King, they do marry. With her final breaths, Marian recounts that she is proud because she has given her life entirely for God, country, and love.

In season 3, Robin Hood returns to England and basically has a crisis of self. Throughout the (not as good by a long shot) season, Robin struggles, implicitly, with the question "Is it all worth it?". He has given his entire life for the good of country and in the service of the King and God and has lost everything he has loved and cherished-- his lands, his life, his love. But what has he gained?

For Robin Hood, as for me, this question was not fully answered (though we see him die peacefully, with Marian meeting him to take him into heaven). Maybe this question isn't meant to be fully answered in this lifetime, maybe it's proving the point that our home isn't here on earth. Any good Christian will answer the question for you: "Of course it's worth it! Christ died for you. He clearly thought it was worth it, so you should, too." And while I know this is the Truth, I can't help but struggle with it. A priest friend and spiritual director of sorts once told me, "Not all of your questions have answers...yet."

As she was dying, Marian said to Robin Hood that they will have all the time they need in heaven because they certainly didn't get enough in this lifetime. How I long for her certainty! And that is the purity and certainty that she conducted her whole life with. If the situation had been reversed and it had been Robin dying, I am positive that Marian would still have continued on with the same certainty until her own life came to an end. I don't have that certainty, that grace. It is said that St. Francis of Assisi was so remorseful for his sins and so worried that he would not be granted heaven because of them that God gave him the grace of knowing that he would go to heaven, a grace usually reserved for those in purgatory. Certainty is a consolation I am not afforded.

"The route on which I am has no consolation for me, and nevertheless it brings me all consolations since Jesus is the one who chose it, and I want to console Him alone, alone!" - St. Therese of Lisieux

I'm often drawn to Mary, especially as Our Lady of Sorrows, in my questioning and in my fear and sorrow. But one aspect I have just not gotten over or made sense of was that she was without sin and only had to wait three days to be with her love, Jesus, again. I am far from sinless and have to wait much longer. I turn most often to my patroness, the Little Flower, as her simplicity always gives me comfort and direction: "Sanctity does not consist in saying beautiful things, it does not even consist in thinking them, feeling them! It consists in suffering and suffering everything." Sanctity is suffering. Gold tested in fire is not purified until it has come through the fire. This is the fire. This earthly life is the fire testing me, purifying me. But I will not be purified until I have passed through this life and I will not know the answer to my question until then, either.

Until that time when I am afforded the answers to my questions, I must merely walk on, must merely struggle and suffer. In the recess of my mind, in the farthest corner of my heart I know that it must all be worth it or it wouldn't be so elaborate. If it wasn't worth it, I would not find hope in the time spent with my husband, looking at my little girl, in receiving the Eucharist. The specifics, though, are still a mystery. "Without complaint, everything shall I suffer for, in the love of God, nothing have I to fear." -St. Teresa Margaret of the Sacred Heart. Before I really started questioning and doubting, before so much was taken from me, I lived by this exclamation, and I must live by it again. However, it says nothing of not doubting or not struggling or not questioning, but it says to live without fear. Though it doesn't quite seem to make sense, the answer to "Is it worth it?", on earth, is "Live without fear".

For what it's worth, live without fear.

Be Ye Not Discouraged

Oh masturbation, will you ever leave me alone?

Probably not. Because I am a sexual person made for sexual interaction and relations (of course I'm not, nor are you, exclusively this). Since I am thus, I will probably always be tempted by masturbation, at least a little bit.

There's a notion that marriage cures masturbation. This is true only to a small extent. It is true in that marriage satisfies what masturbation itself cannot, making it irrelevant. But marriage is not salvation, marriage is not a fix-all cure. It is the answer. But what about the times when he's too tired or you've had an extremely stressful day, or you've had a fight, or he's away? Lots of things come up in marriage and it's not always a smooth, I-can-always-see-the-rainbow-and-want-to-eat-chocolates-and-cuddle-with-my-love-all-day-long ride. It's bumpy. Those moments are when the temptation sneak in. When I'm lonely, when I'm sad, when I'm frustrated, when I'm overly excited (not that way, just the normal way) are when I am tempted.

I understand what St. Paul meant now by begging the Lord to remove the thorn from his side. The thorn isn't masturbation, it was the temptation. The Lord doesn't remove our temptations, He helps us deal with and overcome them but He doesn't just take them away. It's not that He wants us to sin, it's that we need Him to not. St. Paul was begging for the temptation to be taken away because it is the temptations that can often weigh us down and drag us into depression. Sinning on top of that just feels like an anchor tied to the chains. But God gave the answer to letting temptation weigh us down: "My power is made perfect in weakness". Being tempted means we are weak, means I need a savior. That means that God desires to be my Savior and pull me out of the temptations when I find myself surrounded. Once again, He pulls me out of the lion's den.

I used to get very discouraged when I'd be tempted to masturbation or even masturbate after I became engaged and especially after I was married. People had always said, "Love is the answer! Marriage is the cure!" They are the answer to masturbation, not to temptation, and the only cure for temptation is a God willing to face the lion and drag me out of its den.



A great thanks to Distracted Catholic for reminding me that I am doing a worthwhile thing by engaging in this conversation!

A little note: starting next week I will begin involvement in some blog link-ups. Very exciting. I think it's a good way to help me make sure to blog more often. The link-ups will occur on Fridays and Sundays. Why am I not starting this week? Because this week is the end of me "getting my shit together" and next week begins me "putting my shit to work". Can't wait!

Fruit of the Vine, Work of My Hands

I have done a lot of damage to myself through the use of my hands. And somehow, through the mysterious grace of God, through those instruments of destruction, I will also find redemption. I always thought that meant through my writing. I have been a storyteller since I could talk and writer since before I could really write. I dreamed of growing up and joining the ranks of the great authors, in fact, I told my high school English teacher I wanted to be a combination of Mark Twain and Emily Dickinson.

While I find much good coming from writing, I find that much more is coming in other ways. Through making and packing my husband's lunch for him, cleaning our apartment, washing dishing, holding my husband's hand or giving him a massage after a long day-- things that some would consider extremely mundane and ordinary. But these are the things that have provided me with the most healing. Why? Because I am no longer serving myself, as masturbation led me to do, but I am serving others and most importantly the one who I am one with. Service and healing start at home and then overflow from there to flood the world.

While addiction and masturbation were horrible, it provided me with two necessary things: strength and trust to carry on through the dark times and a deeper understanding and gratefulness for mercy. Time to go clean the kitchen from our Italian Seven Fishes meal last night :) Merry Christmas!

Allow Me to Explain

...why I call myself the "Fetal Theologian". You see, fetuses are teeny, tiny human beings and in the realm of theologians, well, I'm about as far from a Doctor of the Church as a fetus is developmentally to a very old lady, maybe even further. But yet even the tiniest voices should be heard and so I give you mine. But perhaps St. Therese better explains my title when she writes:

"O Jesus, I know that for You the saints have done foolish things as well as wonderful ones, for they were eagles. I, however, am too little to do great things, and my foolishness lies in hoping that Your love accepts me as a victim; it lies in counting on the angels and saints to help me, my beloved Eagle, to fly to You on Your own wings."

For the First Time, In Technicolor

The day I found freedom from my addiction haunts me. It haunts me like a beautiful mysterious lady haunts you after a simple hello. And I desperately want to have a conversation. I had given up on conversation right before this. I had tried talking and conversing for so long and still I was saddled with this ugly, hidden "habit"; this thing that made me less woman in so many ways and made me certainly not worthy of God, and it seemed there was nothing He was doing about it.

I self identified not as Theresa but as Masturbator. It had been with me for so long-- 20 years of "the habit" itself and approximately 10 of those 20 in actual addiction-- that it seemed like who I was. I could no longer see Theresa as separate and innately different from Masturbator. I didn't think God could either.

But, as is often the case, I was wrong.

The day I found freedom from the addiction to masturbation hit me like I imagine dying and going to heaven to be like. The old self not just melts but is violently ripped away and you are submerged into so much glory there is no possible way for you to take it all in, except in eternity. The veil had been lifted. As though I were the in the nitty underground of a black and white picture, I saw color for the first time.

Civil Rights Movement vs Gay Rights Movement

Here is a link to an awesome blog post about the civil rights and gay rights movements. Enjoy!

On the Feast of St. Therese of Lisieux and the 40th Anniversary of Walt Disney World

Today is the feast of St. Therese of Lisieux, the Little Flower, co-patron of France, co-patron of the missions, Doctor of the Church, my patroness and heroine. Today also happens to be the 40th Anniversary of Walt Disney World in Orlando, FL; the expansion of Walt's dream. Both of these celebrations should reverberate with us--they are extremely important for childhood.

St. Therese was born into a well-off French family where she never wanted for material necessities but was given the simple faith of a child yearning for more. She knew she was not made exclusively for this life; a fact that was abruptly pounded into her with the death of her mother when Theresewas only 4 and a half. But, for all the suffering she encountered in her life, she never lost her zeal or her faith or her imagination, and she had a big imagination! She used all of her faculties to propel her towards the reality that this world is passing and that we are made for another.

Walt was a man of a simple, unorganized religious faith. What mostly encompassed him was patriotism, love of family, and imagination. He saw a picture bigger than himself and bigger than the reality he was living in, and let nothing stand in his way. Walt created and innovated until the day he died, never losing his grounding and affection for his family, and never losing sight of the bigger reality--that there is more to this world than what we see, more than the here and now.

When we think of Walt Disney, we think of this man who created Mickey Mouse and otherbeloved characters, along with theme parks and experiences to allow us to be a part of the magic. What we sometimes overlook is his dedication to humanity, to making the now as good as it can be and to making the future an even better place. It is easy to say Walt loved childhood and imagination, but really, Walt was obsessed with childhood and knew that in order to be a good adult, a person needs to have the virtue of childlikeness.

Childlikeness was thevirtue that paved the way for St. Therese's ascent to holiness. She knew that in order to be big, one must be very small. Who is smaller than a child? Even God chose to come into the world first and a tiny, vulnerable baby, a child. Upon entering the convent, Therese took the name Sr. There of the Child Jesus; she is sometimes still known by this today, although she is much more widely known as Therese of Lisiuex or The Little Flower. Her devotion to the Child Jesus is of no surprise, nor is it a surprise that we know her as the Little Flower--tiny, delicate, often overlooked, hidden. St. Therese truly took to heart and embodied Christ's words, "Let the children come to me" (Matthew 19:14) and she ran to Him!

Walt wanted the children to come, also. He envisioned a place where children could live out all of their fantasies and use their imagination and a place where their parents could come and spend time with them, once again opening their minds and imaginations to their younger days. He said, "Every child is blessed with a vivid imagination" and meant that we should never outgrow our imaginations, that imagination is what pushes us forward and makes us great.

It may be argued that Walt was a greater imagination than St. Therese as he made and produced 73 animated and live-action movies from 1937 through 1966 and also worked on "The Jungle Book" (released in 1967 after his death) which was the last movie and animated feature he worked on, opened one theme park and planned another, along with producing television shows, and many other ventures. But in three years, St. Therese wrote, directed, and starred in eight plays that she performed for the convent, wrote countless poems over her five years in the convent, and also wrote her autobiography at the request of her sisters. If you're into a little math, if you divide the number of plays St. Therese wrote in her three years as compared to the number of movies Walt made in 29 years, it comes out to almost the same number. But this isn't a numbers game, we're talking impact.

St. Therese was not seen as someone great really until her death, while Walt was known as someone great early on. St. Therese did nothing outward to gain affection or glory for herself and Walt leant his name to these great things that he dreamed up to let people know they were of good quality and wholesome--in different ways, both achieved becoming something greater than themselves.

While Walt Disney has made a much more outward impact on us, calling us on to childhood and imagination and innovation, St. Therese has had just as much of an impact calling us on to childlikeness, dependence on God, and holiness. Both show us that littleness, childlikeness is superior to bigness and pride, and that, perhaps, the way of childlikeness and littleness is the most pure and quickest way to our dreams and to holiness.

"You know well enough that Our Lord does not look so much at the greatness of our actions, nor even at their difficulty, but at the love at which we do them." ~St. Therese of Lisieux

St. Therese of Lisieux and Walt Disney loved without borders and performed every action, executed every idea with the greatest of love. Today is a celebration of the human spirit, imagination, and greatness through childlikeness and littleness. Happy Birthday Walt Disney World! St. Therese of Lisieux, pray for us!

Every Flower Must Grow Through Dirt

I've always been entranced by stories of homeless people, especially young people, and people who come through such debilitating and gritty situations to find life and love and meaning. I devoured stories about life on the edge, punks, rebels, addicts. My life seemed so whitewashed and clean compared to theirs and so...boring. I wanted a life of excitement and the straight and narrow path didn't really seem to accomodate that. Why did I find beauty and excitement in these other lives and not in my own? Because there is beauty in grittiness.There is rawness and realness to a gritty life, a life on the edge. There is no room for maybe or maybe not, only do or don't, live or die. In a way, it is a very profound life. You must always be real and up-front, in touch with who you are, and because, most often, a gritty life is a life at rock bottom or close, you can be who you want to be. Being empty leaves you with space to fill up with and what you fill up with is your choice.

But what we know about a gritty life is that it doesn't normally end well. With that emptiness come the natural desire to be full and some people do not know how to fill themselves with good things. Addiction, over-dose, death, and suicide often ensue. This does not appeal to me.

I want a raw, real life full of adventure and excitement. I don't want to just explore a place, I want to play in it. But I don't want a whitewashed life, never experiencing any suffering. Why? Because out of our suffering emerges such beauty and virtue, resistance and perseverance--all of the things that can make us great.

And that's how I fell in love with Christ. That's when I discovered who I want to be and how I want to live my life. God, Who did not spare Himself any pain or suffering but Who also led an amazing life of joy, excitement, intimacy, and love.

There is realness in pain. When we have nothing left, there is no fear in showing who we are or where we are at. This is Christ's call to us everyday, to be who we are, who we are created to be. And above all else, I am His.

Why Virginity Matters

A great reflection and article. Also, some really insightful comments. Enjoy!

http://www.ncregister.com/blog/why-virginity-matters

What It Feels Like For a Mother

I've been asking a lot of questions about motherhood recently. I'm preparing to be married and with that comes the possibility of children (God willing!)...and it's something I have a lot of head knowledge about but little deeper understanding. Thankfully, I have some great friends who are mothers that don't mind answering my thousands of questions. Today I was able to have a lovely conversation with a friend that went like this:

Friend: "Being a mother is a concrete, constant reminder of sacrificial love. It has given my life a more beautiful, deeply meaningful depth than I could prior understand. My life is not my own, it belongs to my kids in that they completely depend on me to meet their needs. At times I hate it because I don't have a choice. I love them and so I sacrifice for them. But with that sacrifice comes a continually deeper love and in that love I am drawn closer to God and brought fulfillment. In that sense, being a mother bring my fulfillment."

Me: "Do you think there is a way to fall into a negative side of that? Like to lose sight of the fulfillment and grace it brings?"

Friend: "Sure, actually quite easily with little ones who seem to need ALL THE TIME and rarely say thank you."

Me: "Through being a mother and the self-sacrificial love of that you become more you. Do you think it is possible to lose yourself, who you are, become less you, by losing sight of everything? Make it all about self-sacrifice instead of about God?"

Friend: "So like play the martyr instead of actually being one. Makes sense to me. Instead of being who I'm meant to be, which happens effortlessly, being who I think I ought to be, which takes great effort. I think the intent is good but it's misguided. Maybe looking for fulfillment in the action instead of through the action."

All for the Sacred and Eucharistic Heart of Jesus, all through the Sorrowful and Immaculate Heart of Mary, in union with St. Joseph.