Presumption, Mercy, and Following

I had an interesting conversation with my brother, his wife, and my niece last night.  In the process, we started to talk about a specific sin, and how I should conceivably and willingly put myself into a near occasion for sin (for those that don't know, a "near occasion for sin" is when you put yourself into a situation where you know you will be tempted to sin or where you know will tempt others to sin by your actions.  For instance, taking a recovering alcoholic bar-hopping would be a near occasion for sin.). When I protested and said that doing so wasn't safe, my brother told me, "Ruth, _______ is not the unpardonable sin."  Then my niece pipes up and says, "You can just go to confession afterwards!"  While we all laughed at the time and the conversation moved on, I found myself thinking about this conversation and some of the assumptions that underlie this attitude as I was falling asleep last night.

First, I have to say that, on its face, both what my brother and my niece said are correct--God is merciful, and He has given us the means to be forgiven.  That is the reason that Jesus died on the cross, as well as why  Jesus instituted Confession/Reconciliation at the end of the Gospel of John.  I am testimony to that fact--He has forgiven me for my suicide attempt 12 years ago, among MANY other things, and for that I will ever be grateful.    So, it wasn't really WHAT was said, so much as HOW it was said.  Whether you are Catholic or Protestant, all of us agree that God is merciful and that He forgives.  This is the greatest reason that I love the Divine Mercy Chaplet--it reminds me of what Christ did for me, as well as the fact that His mercy is fathomless.  This chaplet and image was a revelation to St. Faustina, and her diaries are on my list of books to read....Read the explanation St. Faustina was given about this picture in the caption...

The two rays denote Blood and Water. The pale ray stands for the Water which makes souls righteous. The red ray stands for the Blood which is the life of souls. These two rays issued forth from the depths of My tender mercy when My agonized Heart was opened by a lance on the Cross. Happy is the one who will dwell in their shelter, for the just hand of God shall not lay hold of him 

I want to dwell in the shelter of Christ's love and mercy, but I don't think that putting myself into a near occasion of sin is the way to do so.  When you take this idea, it feels too much like the argument St. Paul is refuting in Romans 6: 1-18 (I'm only going to quote vs. 15-18 here).

What then? Shall we sin because we are not under the law but under grace? Of course not! Do you not know that if you present yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey, either of sin, which leads to death, or of obedience, which leads to righteousness? But thanks be to God that, although you were once slaves of sin, you have become obedient from the heart to the pattern of teaching to which you were entrusted. Freed from sin, you have become slaves of righteousness.

For me, willingly walking into a situation of a near occasion of sin is like willingly presenting myself to become a slave to that sin, and I only want to be a slave of Christ.  The verse that has been on a continuous loop in my brain, though, is something Jesus himself said (John 14:15-21):

“If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth, which the world cannot accept, because it neither sees nor knows it. But you know it, because it remains with you, and will be in you. I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me, because I live and you will live.On that day you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you. Whoever has my commandments and observes them is the one who loves me. And whoever loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and reveal myself to him.”

So, the way that I show my love for God is to follow Him and keep His commandments--I can't do that if I'm purposely setting myself up to sin.  Even if I am able to resist the temptation (and that is doubtful--the fact that I'm willing to put myself into the situation in the first place says that I'm already half-way to consenting), I am giving myself permission to disobey because "Jesus will forgive me."   In Catholic-ese, this is probably the graver sin--I'm guilty of presumption.  I am saying that I don't need to repent in order to be forgiven by God, and no matter what faith tradition you come from, repentance means we must accept God's gift of salvation.    When I presume upon Christ's Mercy, I am basically saying that He is going to force His love on me and make me become someone that I clearly do not want to become.  According to CS Lewis,

In creating beings with free will, omnipotence from the outset submits to the possibility of such defeat. What you call defeat, I call miracle: for to make things which are not Itself, and thus to become, in a sense, capable of being resisted by its own handiwork, is the most astonishing and unimaginable of all the feats we attribute to the Deity. I willingly believe that the damned are, in one sense, successful, rebels to the end; that the doors of hell are locked on the inside. I do not mean that the ghosts may not wish to come out of hell, in the vague fashion wherein an envious man "wishes" to be happy: but they certainly do not will even the first preliminary stages of that self-abandonment through which alone the soul can reach any good. --The Problem of Pain

If I have learned anything from my divorce, I have learned that none of us has the power to change or fix another human being.  I believe my ex married me a little less than a year after my suicide attempt because he  knew that I was vulnerable and it gave him a chance that he wouldn't otherwise have had to date me.  I also believe that he wanted to rescue me, but really, only I could rescue myself by resting in the Mercy of God. As the Lord healed me, I stayed because I felt that I needed to live with the consequences of my mistake.  More than that, I hoped that my ex would grow and change as time went on, but no amount of wishing, hoping, praying, nagging, or ultimatums changed my ex's actions or attitudes--he has to make that decision to change for himself.

And, that is why I won't be following my brother's advice from last night's conversation.  I like the changes that God has wrought in me, and I want Him to continue to make me more like Him--I don't see that happening if I create situations where I am purposely presenting myself to be a slave of sin. Instead, I will present myself to Christ.  When He sets you free, you will be free indeed!

Motherhood

After almost 11 years of a failed marriage, no children, and only one real pregnancy scare in all of that time, it is probable that I will not have biological children, which makes Mother's Day a difficult day for me.  Every other day of the year, I'm at peace with the fact that I will probably never birth a baby of my own, but it is difficult on that one day....it is a day of mourning for me, and the emptiness of my arms take on a weight that I only feel in the celebration of mothers everywhere.  In fact, for the last 3-4 years, I have sought to avoid as much of the hubbub as possible by going to Mass during the Saturday vigil, and before my divorce, skipping my ex's church altogether.  Before I was Catholic, I would feign sickness to keep from the church service that day.

It was probably my third year of marriage when I realized that natural born children probably weren't in my future (we were never checked, so I can't be 100% certain. still...).  I have always felt strongly that, if you are pro-life, you should also be pro-adoption: infertility wasn't ever as big of a deal as it could have been, because I always knew that, if natural born children didn't come, I would eventually adopt.  It was probably about the time that we had to give up fostering children because of financial difficulties that things went from resigned to my fate to really difficult again.  At this point, I realized that I couldn't both be the primary/only bread-winner and a stay-at-home mom, and that I crave traditional gender roles in marriage. I also realized that the odds of my ex and I ever being financially stable enough to afford adoption were nil, and all of a sudden, being infertile became a VERY BIG DEAL. 

Now that I am divorced, I am surprised that physical motherhood is still something that I hope for.  I shouldn't be, since a divorce doesn't change what the desires of my heart are (See Ps. 37--Only God can do that as I delight myself in Him.). It just changes the possible avenues for fulfilling those desires while it closes others completely (maybe talking about that will be another post for another day--some avenues are open but unacceptable as well...Practicing Catholic Christian and all that ;-D ). 

Anyone who has ever lived in an area that is mostly Hispanic has heard adults call their children "Mamasita" or "Papasito"  (Spanish for little mother or little father).  I always found it kind of weird to call a two year old a little mother, but chalked it up to a cultural difference.  One day, when I was really struggling with the lack of pattering feet in my life, a friend of mine explained it to me.  She said that, as a culture, they believe that every girl is "born with the heart of our Blessed Mother." The idea is that, because we love Jesus, we have Mary's heart within us (It can be argued that she loved Him more than anyone else in this world.). That makes sense to me. I think it also might point to the potential for parenthood that is present in calling a little girl a mamasita or a little boy a papasito--it is a very rare little girl indeed that doesn't dream of holding a little baby of her own.   

The reality is that all of us are called to participate in God's creativity in the context of our relationships through "the true gift of self".  We are all called to be mothers and fathers, either physically through birth or adoption, or spiritually.  Blessed John Paul II said as much in his encyclical, Mulieris Dignitatem, as he sits there and talks about the dignity and vocation of women....his argument is that, by the nature of who we are as men and women, we are called to parenthood, and we then live that out through our vocation--if we are single, we become parents spiritually, and if we are married...well, you get the picture.  Here is a quote from the above...

The moral and spiritual strength of a woman is joined to her awareness that God entrusts the human being to her in a special way. Of course, God entrusts every human being to each and every other human being. But this entrusting concerns women in a special way - precisely by reason of their femininity - and this in a particular way determines their vocation.

So, I have been praying a lot about how to nurture the people around me and help them become more like Jesus.  Maybe the avenue for physical motherhood will open for me, or maybe not--it is something that I have to entrust to the infinite wisdom of Jesus.  Even so, I can let God work through me to be a spiritual mother right now.  As I become more available to be a conduit of grace for the people around me, I will be able to discover who God made me to be...Maybe someday a Mama, but always a Mamasita!

This is my favorite picture of Mary and Jesus: the painter is Bougereaux.  Notice that she is focused on Jesus, just as it is in scripture--everything that she is is because of Him (Luke 1:46-50).  Also notice how she is holding Jesus in such a way that his position mimics what it will be on the Cross.  His focus is on us while his hands are stretched out in blessing toward us.  Someday, I want a nice framed print of this.

It's Just a Dance.

Someone posted a link to the following blog on Facebook today, and I got distracted by it, but in the process, I found this little gem of a post: http://myexgayjourney.blogspot.com/2013/01/what-is-love.html.  Here is a quote from that post...

My ex-partner argued with me after he left that there are “several different types of love.” He pointed out that the Greeks have “five different words for it.” I emphatically disagree.  There is ONLY ONE TYPE OF LOVE. There are many ways of giving it and various degrees of intensity, but there is ONLY ONE KIND because all love comes from God and is impossible to experience apart from Him. There are lots of feelings and emotions that people mistakenly call “love.” These emotions, feelings, and attractions are not necessarily bad things, but they should never ever be mistaken for “Love.” Love is an Action Verb and it is a gift that is given.It is not ever a feeling or an emotion. We do ourselves and others a grave disservice when we adopt the view that there is any other form of “Love” other than what is described in detail 1 Corinthians 13. 

Later he says:

You mentioned "Romeo and Juliet" in your other email and that you often felt emotions similar to theirs and their "forbidden love." I can relate to what you are describing, but I do not believe that Romeo Loved Juliet. I'm serious! What they had was the Opposite of Love. Shakespeare’s play showed this, but our modern view has distorted everything. I personally believe that Shakespeare never intended anyone to believe that Romeo and Juliet loved each other in any way, shape, or form. For one thing the 16^th century view of suicide was much different from our modern sympathetic view.

The only character in the play who demonstrates Love is Paris . He is the one who really and truly Loves Juliet.

Take a look at the opening Prologue of Romeo & Juliet. It is clear that Shakespeare did not view Romeo and Juliet’s relationship as healthy or loving in any way. He calls it “death-marked” for a reason.

He goes on to show why what Romeo and Juliet shared isn't love, and I was struck by the deconstruction of the relationship between Romeo and Juliet--it never occurred to me in High School when we read this play that Shakespeare might have been commenting on the paucity of their love.  Instead, I was enthralled with the modern idea of romantic love I projected into the play. During high school, I spent most of my waking hours thinking about being in love, talking about being in love, reading about being in love (I had a 3-4 harlequin romance a week habit--I no longer read romance novels, thank God!), watching movies about being in love, or dreaming about being in love. I had this notion that I would meet THE ONE in high school like my parents did. I even ended up in a couple of long distance relationships where I read a lot more into the relationship than was actually there--I was actually engaged to one of them for a while in college!

Like the above author states, our culture has mistaken the feelings based on infatuation and fantasies for real love.  My ex used to quote the movie Willow and tell me, "You are my sun, my moon, my starlit night.  Without you, I dwell in darkness," And it would usually make me feel incredibly uncomfortable--yes, I was flattered, but the quote didn't actually reflect our relationship, and frankly, it wasn't a role that I wanted to have in his life.   I often felt like I had become an idol in his life, and I didn't like that feeling.  Early in our marriage, I let him know that I didn't feel comfortable being on a pedestal, but I eventually quit trying to correct him--it was a losing proposition....Maybe he was right and he didn't have me on a pedestal, but he clearly wasn't engaged with the real me either.  Rather, I was a stand-in for who he thought I was, and anything that didn't fit his ideal was rejected, made fun of, or otherwise censured. For instance, I didn't sing for almost 10 years when he was around, not even in the shower, because he told me repeatedly that I couldn't sing. The funny thing is that I'm not really angry with him for this--I honestly don't think that he understood what he was doing or that it was even wrong.  I'm angry (actually, I'm livid) with myself for allowing this to go on for so long--for being complicit in his disordered behavior.  I'm a pretty intelligent person, and I allowed this to happen when I should know better.

So, I hid my thoughts and feelings almost from the very beginning of our marriage--to hide who I was--in order to either keep the peace or keep from getting sniped at.  Over and over in my journals, I wrote that I couldn't tell my ex or that my ex didn't understand, or that my ex would get mad if he knew _______. I became a chameleon that took on the colors of her surroundings in order to please my ex.  When we were separated the first time, I started to remove the mask, but began wearing it again when my ex and I got back together--it fit badly, and the mask reeked, but it was the only way to save my marriage.  It is only in the last three to four years that I have begun to show who I truly am again--to remove the mask I have been hiding behind, and I credit my conversion to Catholicism for that.  Something about internalizing that each human has intrinsic value gave me courage, and the graces of the sacraments didn't hurt either!

I'm older, and, I hope, wiser than I was when I first married my ex.  I'm also a lot more confident in who I am, and I know that the Lord has done an incredible healing work in my life. In the process of growing up, healing, etc.,  I have come to the conclusion that it serves no one to hide who you are in a relationship. My actions have probably swung to the opposite side of the continuum: to over-disclosure, but I guess I'd rather be a little socially awkward and risk scaring the people around me than to hide who I am anymore.  I've also noticed in my own life that deception begets deception--it becomes easier to justify deception the more we practice deception of any kind. I don't want to be good at deception, and that means unlearning and modifying behavior, even when it is hard to be honest.  I realize that prudence must play a part in this, and I'm not going to blurt out my whole life to a perfect stranger (not even a co-worker or acquaintance). However, I am more willing to put who I am out there than I have been my whole life.

Going out dancing recently is a case in point--I mentioned to my niece that I really wanted to dance, and she told me to just go ask someone.  Then she said something that I find really profound: "It's just a dance."  Whether they say yes, or they say no, it is just a dance, not the end of the world.  So, I asked a few gentlemen to dance, volunteered once when some teenager was rejected by a girl sitting near me, and I had a lot of fun.  Like my real life, if people don't like me for who I am, then, "It's just a dance."  Not the end of the world, not the last chance ever to have a friend, and not the reason to go back into the self-made cage that I'm working on dismantling bar by bar.

When we finally separated for good, my ex told me that he missed the woman that he fell in love with, but apparently she didn't exist anymore.  In a sense, he was right, but I don't think the girl he fell in love with ever existed.  Instead, I pretended to be her, I'm not sure why, and I hurt both of us in the process.   Now comes the hard work of healing, forgiving, and becoming the person God wants me to be.

Love, Marriage, and Country Music

My niece had her first communion today, and it was really sweet to see all of the little girls in little white dresses and veils, as well as all of the little boys in suits.  As I watched all of them go up, I was struck by how similar wedding dresses are to the first communion dresses that the little girls were wearing.  While I should have been paying attention to the scripture readings, I was thinking about some of the reading I did about the Catholic Church before I converted, and how many theologians say that taking communion is the consummation of our relationship with Jesus, much like sex is the consummation of a relationship between a man and a woman in marriage.  Part of this is because they both serve similar purposes--both have both unitive and creative aspects to them. With sex, it should bring a married couple closer together (be unitive physically, emotionally, and spiritually), and there is always the possibility that a baby will come out of it nine months later (the creative aspect).  With the Eucharist, the unitive aspect is that we are taking in our Savior, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity--so there is literal uniting of ourselves to Him--and the creative aspect is that, when we take communion with the right disposition, it will birth new life in us. I don't think I would have noticed the imagery of the white dresses and veils as a protestant, so I have to say that it was really cool to see and understand it today.  I also think that this is part of the reason that it used to be that a person's first Communion was usually around the age of 15 or 16--the analogy is much more powerful, and the wait creates a longing in us for our Beloved, much like the wait of an engagement does for our physical spouse.

My niece in her First Communion Dress.  Isn't she beautiful?

So, with these ideas swirling around my head this morning, I have been thinking about my own failed marriage as well as my own relationship with Jesus.  One of the contributing factors in my own marriage's demise was the fact that I was never in love with my ex.  I cared about him, but not with the passion that one should have for a spouse.  In truth, I don't think that I have ever been in love with anyone, in spite of the fact that I was engaged or almost engaged several times before I married my ex.  While there was one guy that I was close to being in love with, I'm not sure that I can really say I was in love with him either.  I think that the potential was there but never realized for some reason, probably due to our mutual immaturity at the time.  At 37 years old, I find that sad and slightly tragic.  I know that much of the reason that I married my ex was because I was vulnerable and still deeply hurting from a recent bout with depression--I didn't trust my own judgement, so when my ex told me that he knew I was the person God had for him, I trusted in that rather than try to discern God's will for myself. 

I also have to wonder at my motivations for getting engaged or talking about engagement in the other relationships before my ex--was I just that desperate to be married?  Was it because of pressure from family?  Was I that silly and immature (that would be a resounding YES!!!)? I look at me way back then, and go, "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING????"  I've spent time looking at the journal entries, and I know that some of it was just being in love with the idea of being in love.  The fact that my parents expected me to leave college with an MRS degree, not the BA and MA that I ended up with also contributed. 

So did our culture...even as I am rediscovering my love for Country music and other genres, I'm finding that some songs are just problematic.  They glorify sex as love (remember "I think we're alone now"?), or they talk about love as it should be, and I find myself longing for a love like that rather than being content with the place where God has me.

This song is a case in point.  I love this song for lots of reasons.  The singer is great and the sentiment is one I think just about every female would love to say about their significant other.  I would also argue that every woman in a good marriage has things their husbands do on a regular basis that "makes them cry" in a good way.  At the same time, this kind of song is perfect fodder for envy, and maybe the creation of unrealistic expectations.  When a guy hears stuff like this, does he think, "there's no way I can live up to this," or does he go, "I want to do that for my significant other"?  If I were a guy, I might lean more toward the former than the latter.

This is another example.  While it is a lot more realistic, it still makes me wonder if I will ever truly fall in love.  And this thought is usually followed by wondering whether any guy I would be willing to date would be willing to date me.  I can think of all of the reasons why they wouldn't be: I'm divorced, which at least points to the possibility that I'm not willing/able to commit to a forever relationship; It also points to some major baggage; I'm chaste, which is very rare in our society, especially for a divorcee; I am a faithful Christian, and expect them to be the same; I'm Catholic and I plan to raise any children I have as Catholics; I have a history of major depression; I have eclectic tastes in music; I have food allergies out the wazoo--even I have trouble keeping track of them; the litany goes on and on....

Then I find songs like this--the songs that say exactly what I feel about a particular situation.  I've come to the conclusion that, like the name of this song, I'm hard to love: I'm one of those high maintenance females that guys don't like to date.  I'm working on that, but my many allergies mean that I'm going to be higher maintenance than most women.  I mean, at some point I'll have to have a conversation with him about not using fabric softener anymore, and just choosing a restaurant is fodder for nightmares...This is not the picture of low maintenance!!! 

And yet, lately I have found myself praying that the Lord would allow me to be head over heels in love at least once in my life--with Him and maybe with another human being, even if the second comes to nothing.  Is it wrong to want to experience the pinnacle of what it means to be human? It might be that I'm overdosing on Country Music, and I need to cut back on my consumption...I probably DO need to cut back on how much country music I'm listening to, but I doubt that this is the only reason for my prayers.  Scripture says in I John 4 that God IS Love.  When we are in love with another person, the best of who we are comes out--it is also through love that we come to know God.  Think about it--when we are in love with another person, we study them, try to think of ways to please them, and our longing is for their company...and that is what we should be doing with God. Additionally, love for others is probably the best remedy for selfishness, and all of us struggle with that particular propensity!

I know that I'm really not ready to begin any kind of relationship--my ex has only been out of the house for 7 months, and the divorce has only been final for about 5, not to mention the fact that I won't truly be free for a relationship until I have heard about what the Tribunal says about my annulment application.  I can't help but think about it, though. 

And that, in and of itself can be dangerous, as it can set up expectations that no human being could ever meet.  I quit reading romance novels in college because I realized that it created unrealistic expectations of what a relationship should be.  Really, I should know better, as none of my relationships have followed what is considered to be a "typical" pattern--you know, where the guy gets up the courage to talk to the girl, and then pursues her relentlessly until he wins her heart and they ride off into the sunset together....typical romantic comedy drivel!  However, when guys have pursued me like that, it has felt more like the story line from Mr. Wrong, than it has happily ever after! 

There is a very real part of my heart that wants....something, I'm not sure what to call it, in my romantic relationships....I guess the best way to explain it is a cross between being cherished for who I am, to not be afraid of showing the whole world that he wants to spend time with me, for him to be willing and able to stand toe to toe with me if he disagrees (I have out-stubborned most of the guys I have dated), to not be afraid to hold me as I blubber and get his shirt all wet, to value my opinion and me as a person, to discuss intellectual issues with an open mind, to be desired by him physically, and for him to proactively seek to help me get to Heaven. In short, I guess I want him to be in love with me, too, and that has also been missing in my relationships to this point (or at least it has from my perspective--I could be wrong).

That is why I take solace in the following verse from Jeremiah 31: 3-6

The Lord appeared to us in the past, saying:

“I have loved you with an everlasting love;
    I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.
⁴ I will build you up again,
    and you, Virgin Israel, will be rebuilt.
Again you will take up your timbrels
    and go out to dance with the joyful.
⁵ Again you will plant vineyards
    on the hills of Samaria;
the farmers will plant them
    and enjoy their fruit.
⁶ There will be a day when watchmen cry out
    on the hills of Ephraim,
‘Come, let us go up to Zion,
    to the Lord our God.’”

No matter what happens with the humans around me, God already loves me like that, and even when I cry out with longing for human companionship, the Lord is there to comfort me, cherish me, and draw me closer to Him.