Living Real Discipleship

What is living real discipleship? Is it going to Mass on Sundays to fulfill one's obligation? Is it occasionally saying a prayer when someone asks for a prayer? Is it calling oneself Catholic and when convenient following the magisterium of the Catholic Church? I think not. I think that when Jesus calls us to discipleship, and He describes real discipleship in Matthew Chapters 16-18, He is calling us to be out on a limb every moment of our lives. He is asking us to put ourselves last, and others first, to reach for the lost and the sinners, and bring them back, for this pleases Him most. He is asking us to speak kindly to all we come in contact with, from the important people in our lives, to the simple parishioner who means nothing to us. For if we speak unkindly and hurt someone's feelings, we hurt Jesus' feelings. He asks us to visit the sick, the imprisoned, to give up our own comforts to feed the needs of others. This means bringing difficulty and discomfort upon ourselves to help make life more comfortable for others. It is easy to smile and be kind to those who reciprocate to us. But, is it easy to be kind to those we do not particularly like? This is what true discipleship is. Correcting a friend who is making poor choices, out of love for their eternal soul, is a work of mercy. This sets them back on the track toward holiness. There are many little ways we can be disciples in our everyday life. Listen to the call of the Holy Spirit and act on it.

The Microphone

This afternoon we had an assembly at school to honor Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who was assassinated in 1968. He was a civil rights leader, working tirelessly for the rights of people of all color, particularly blacks in America, to obtain the same rights as the whites. As part of the assembly, our students were invited to participate by coming up to the microphone to say something about what Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. meant to them. A few students said short responses that made sense and were appropriate to the theme of the assembly. Then one wheelchair-bound student, Ryan, raised his hand and went forward in his motorized wheelchair to the microphone. He faced the student body while one of the teacher's aides held the microphone to his mouth. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. He proceeded to say a few sentences emphatically in his slow, very difficult-to-understand English. I'm not sure if anyone understood what Ryan said, but, when he set his chair in motion back to his seat, everyone clapped and cheered for him. They didn't have to understand what Ryan had said. They were clapping for the effort of a young man with legs that fail to support his weight; for a teen who has spent his whole life confined to a wheelchair, never able to play baseball or soccer; whose arms flail around without control, sometimes embarrassing him by moving uncontrollably at the wrong time; for a person trapped by a mouth and voice that cannot often tell what he wishes to tell because his pronunciation is too difficult to make people understand; but for a young man brave enough to share his thoughts with his friends and schoolmates despite his special needs. What I find most rewarding about my job is to see how the special needs kids in my school support one another. They easily look beyond each others' handicaps. They love unconditionally. They are like the children that Jesus spoke of when He said, "Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." How beautiful God designed those that are considered "abnormal." We can learn much from them. Next time you see a special needs child, observe him or her carefully. You may just learn how to love from them. Liz

Mary, Undoer of Knots

In a recent issue of Our Sunday Visitor, I read a short article about a painting of Mary, entitled Mary, Undoer of Knots, which has hung in a church in Germany since the 1700's. The painting was inspired by a comparison St. Iranaeus made between Eve and Mary, in which he said, "Eve, by her disobedience, tied the knot of disgrace for the human race; whereas Mary, by her obedience, undid it." The knots are described, thus, as the sins, struggles and problems we face in our lives for which we do not see any solution. They could be disharmony in the family, depression, hurts, lack of understanding between parents and children, siblings, broken friendships, etc.

Mary, in her kindness and love, when asked, always does for her children. She responds to our prayers by undoing these "knots" in our lives. There is no knot that she is not able to undo for us. This website provides a booklet with a picture and detailed explanation of the painting of Mary, Undoer of the Knots, as well as a Novena with the same name. Mary will provide for her children when asked. I encourage you to go to the website and read about it and order the booklet with the prayers and Novena. The web address is www.maryundoerofknots.com.

The Holy Spirit Gives Me Insight

I've been suffering from this depression now for almost seven months, worse at some times. Mostly I have kept it to myself, but, I did put the post on my blog recently and had a few people remark about it. Also, last night at my God's Embrace meeting, I shared about it and had an amazing reaction to it. Important to note is that it has been very debillitating. Most people do not understand clinical depression and just how severely it can affect a person and their whole family. It is not just a small, passing depression, like many people experience. It is a tremendous burden to carry and this time it is probably the worst thing I have ever suffered, as evidenced by the fact that I seriously pondered suicide last month. This is real and it is serious. I cannot escape its daily presence in my life. It does not go away. I would like to share some of the reactions.

In my God's Embrace community I only received positive responses. We were all asked to share our prayer experiences of the past few weeks. I chose to share my depression, my contemplation of suicide in December, and the miraculous story of the key on Christmas, followed by the past few weeks of many hours of prayer in my church in front of the tabernacle by myself. Others shared their stories. One lady told me that I should close my eyes and imagine my depression and put it in a box and wrap it up; then give it as a gift to Jesus on the cross. Another said that God for some reason willed this in my life, though I may not understand why. It was at this moment that I believe that the Holy Spirit reminded me that for a couple of years I have been praying to God to let me suffer for the souls of priests. And as I have been suffering this depression, I have been offering it up for the soul of a priest I know in another country, remembering that I had asked in particular to suffer for this priest's soul. Four or five other people in the group, including my own spiritual director, came up at the break and after the meeting, and hugged me, told me they loved me, and in one way or another, expressed that they would pray for me and that they were happy that I shared this struggle and that they consider me a beautiful person. It is very difficult for me to take compliments and praise because I have always had low self-esteem, but, I found it comforting for a change and just accepted it as love from God through my very special faith community.

Tonight before Mass, a member of my apologetics group came up to me and hugged me and told me she has been following my blog. She said she is very inspired by what I write and she told me she loved me. This was very special to hear. God was once again telling me through a human, that He loves me. God is revealing Himself to me this way to help relieve some of this pain that is so real and so excruciating.

Finally, my sister told me that only Jesus knows this type of pain that is ongoing and continuous. She said I can imagine myself right up there on the cross with Him when I am having the times of total despair that come and go when I feel so abandoned and alone. This is when my depression can be redemptive suffering and can be beneficial to souls of others. I understand this now. I can try to find joy in my suffering this depression. I will try now to turn my sadness into joy. I will try to look outward and upward, instead of inward and downward, because that is what Satan is trying to get me to do. He loves to bring me down. He wants me to despair. So instead, I will refute him and give glory to God through my suffering. I thank God for sending my holy, Catholic brothers and sisters who have been there for me in this time of great need for supportive friends. Thank you, Jesus.

Time With Jesus

Since I received the gift of the key to St. Michael's Church on Christmas Eve, I have visited nearly every day to spend time with Jesus alone in prayer. It has been beautiful prayer time alone with my King. It has been so long since I had this opportunity to spend hours before the tabernacle alone with Him. Although we have the perpetual adoration chapel across the street from our church, and I do have my one hour weekly time commitment there, it is different to have the chance to go again whenever I wish to be with Jesus all by myself in uninterrupted prayer. This week the only day I missed was my birthday. That day was so busy. But the other days I drove directly over to church after school and knelt down and communed with my God. He knew this was the time when I most needed Him to be with me to share our silent conversation. It's funny how God just miraculously makes those things happen when they are most needed in our lives. I praise Him and give Him my love forever and ever. Amen.

The Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick

As I continued on in this terrible abyss of depression, from which I could not seem to emerge, I asked my friend, Father Tom, if he would take the time to listen to me on Wednesday night after Mass and confessions. I had not told him of my depression, because I didn't want to cry on his shoulder again. He has lovingly listened to me several times before. After Mass I availed myself of the sacrament of confession and I reluctantly confessed that I had contemplated taking my own life last month. It was very hard to speak these words, even behind the screen of the confessional. I thought it was probably the worst sin I had ever confessed. But, in his usual manner, Father reassured me that Jesus loves me more than I could ever imagine and drew me a mental picture of how great that love is for me. I felt better immediately. He once again absolved me from my sins. After all the people had confessed and left, we began to talk in the empty church, only to the light of the tabernacle candle and the lights surrounding the Christmas creche. It was dark, quiet and very beautiful. I explained the whole depression situation to Fr. Tom and the details of my suicidal thoughts that night in December. I cried. This priest is always amazing. I expressed my feelings of letting God down by having to depend on a counselor and medications. I told of my feelings of being so alone and not wanting to burden others, even my good friends, with this my current life situation. He assured me that God was not disappointed in me. He said God was no more disappointed in me than He would be if I were taking medication for diabetes or for cancer; that this is a real true illness and needs to be taken care of. He also told me that I should be talking to a friend or two and asking for their feedback and help; not keeping it pent up inside. For one day, those very same friends would be turning to me for advice and comfort. That's what friends are for, he reassured me.

I then asked if he could anoint me for this illness, since it was so debillitating at the present time. It was causing a lot of havoc in the family, particularly since they do not understand this type of mental illness, as is true of many people. He replied immediately that he would be happy to anoint me. So right in front of the Christmas creche, he gave me the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick. It was very beautiful and holy. I am thankful for my friend, Father Tom. He is a holy man. He loves serving God through serving His people, whenever asked. His joy is to say the Mass and to give the sacraments to others. He lives his vocation 24 hours a day. It is not just a job for him, it is his life's vocation. We are so blessed to have him at our parish. He never complains when asked to serve the sheep in his care. We all love him so dearly.

When I awoke the next morning, I felt one hundred times lighter, as if a burden had been lifted from me. I felt happy and joyful. I praised God all day long and felt as if it was a new me. I knew the Sacrament of the Sick had done something miraculous to me internally. The next day I felt the same way, and most of the day today, as well. Although I know I am not entirely through the depression, I know God has given me a great lift along the way to my healing. The graces I received through the sacrament were many. Thank You, Lord Jesus, for the many gifts you bestow upon me. Amen.

Would You Die for Your Faith?

I watched the new movie, The Thirteenth Day, which I bought myself just before Christmas. It was a new take on the story of Our Lady of Fatima. One of the scenes was particularly moving to me. It was when the three children were being interrogated by the police. The police were attempting to get them to tell the secrets that the lady entrusted to them in their visions. All three children, at such young ages, stated firmly that they would rather die than to divulge the secrets that the lady asked them to keep for her.

What strength they demonstrated. They were threatened with death by being dipped into a vat of boiling oil. Francesco and Jacinta were under the age of ten, and Lucia was barely older than that. Yet, they chose to remain faithful to their promise and to endure this hideous, painful death, which they had no idea was just an empty threat.

I began to consider what my answer would have been, faced with a painful, slow death. Would I be faithful to keeping safe the secrets of our faith or standing firm for the Catholic faith if faced with martyrdom? My initial reaction, as a supposedly strong disciple, would be to boldly say, "Of course I would stand firm and accept death." But, would I? How scary would it be to give one's life for the faith? Yet, in the early Church, it was so common for the followers of Jesus to submit to torture and death rather than to give in and abandon their true beliefs.

I guess the answer is to turn day after day to the crucifix and give oneself over and over to the One who so selflessly surrendered His own life for the love of each one of us. He chose the hideous and painful agony in the garden, where He saw all our sins and failings. He was so burdened that He sweat blood. Then he chose the scourging by the Roman soldiers; one so grotesque that He came within inches of death itself. So beaten was He that he barely resembled a man upon its completion, and then they added the insult of forcing the sharp and painful crown of thorns into His sweet, delicate head. He knew all of this was to happen, yet He accepted it out of love. This was a love so compelling that it fed His strength through the whole ordeal so that He could continue trudging on through the streets of Jerusalem, carrying the heavy wood of the crossbeam, the ironic symbol of our salvation. He walked amidst the crowds of jeering, laughing, hateful people, who shouted horrible accusations at Him as he walked the road to His glory. And then He endured the nails in His hands and feet and hung for three miserable hours upon the cross and struggled to breathe while the onlookers cast lots for His cloak. His own close friends abandoned Him. This was the extent of His love for us.

I ask then, for God to give me the strength to always bear witness to Christ; to stand firm in my beliefs and to walk tall in my Catholicism. I ask that should I ever find myself in a moment where I must choose between martyrdom for Christ or denial of Christ, that I wouldn't hesitate a moment before choosing to accept martyrdom for my Lord and Savior, who chose me some 2000 years ago, without hesitation. After all, it is that eternal home where I will be united always with Him that I desire to obtain one day anyway, so martyrdom would be a mere stepping stone; a grace to lead me sooner to my King.