I’m Moving February 1, 2013

Please follow me over to my new address 🙂 sheepinthesacristy.wordpress.com

Keep the faith and thank you for your support! -kw

of hammers and unfinished houses

I had a dream last night that compelled me to restart the blog thing.

Normally my dreams don’t make sense at all. Random people doing things that make no sense and have no connections to the actual outcome (mowing the yard so chocolate ice cream will come in the mail)… but this one stuck with me on the way to work this morning, and that was kind of a big deal.

Last night was the first time I dreamed about Jesus.

I have been overwhelmed lately to say the least. I had surgery, I started school, I left a job, I took on more responsibility at work, I had at least one crisis of faith. I’ve been fortunate to get enough sleep to function from one day to the next and dreaming at all is unusual. 

It felt like a movie in that I had no control over what was going on in it — I was an onlooker on site with the actors but out of the cameras’ way. The details flew away in the morning, as dreams usually do, but two very intense scenes still haunt my memory.

The first scene is somewhere in the mountains. I can’t see what’s going on, but I hear voices and crying. The sadness is palpable. Something very bad is happening here and nothing can be done to stop it. But for some reason, I know how the story will end (I don’t think I’ve seen this movie before) and the sadness a passing necessity. It won’t stay. But to experience it that deeply, to hear the moans and the cries of people in anguish… Heartbreak. Absolute heartbreak.

In the second scene, I’m in a house…that happens to have very narrow hallways and doesn’t seem finished. The walls are up, the floors are there, but there is no paint, no furniture, just a shell of a home. A few people are there with me. One or two of them are either my age or my height but not both and female, and the man in the house — Jesus — is dressed in white. We’re in the laundry room, which is more of a closet in the middle of a hallway than anything, and someone hands me a hammer and tells me it’s my gift from Jesus. “What do I do with this?” I asked, then went shimmying down the narrow hallways trying to find something I was supposed to hammer. I came back to the laundry room and found a mirror about the size of my hand on the washer.

Lately I’ve felt like I’m guilty of focusing on me. I’m trying to shift the focus. Instead of how much money I make, how can I use what I do to help others grow or heal? How can I use a little spare time or money to make things easier for someone in need? How can I better use my time spent daydreaming to study, read, pray? Share my faith with what I say? Talk about what’s happening with other people rather than telling them about what happened to me?

It’s not about me.

In the first part of the movie, I believe I was following Jesus as He carried the cross. I remember everything clicked in my mind when that occurred to me, and the overwhelming sadness grew even deeper. I remember seeing His face.

In the laundry room, He gave me a hammer.

 

To break the mirror.

Falling down and getting up. June 16, 2012

I got a bike.

I live on a dirt road. A few years ago they paved the first tenth of a mile and the last half a mile. The rest is sand and rocks, usually pretty packed unless the road’s been graded recently. There’s not a lot of traffic and the mosquitoes aren’t bad yet. It’s kind of a bear to ride after it’s rained, but…

I’m not completely familiar with this bike yet. Sometimes it feels strange to ride, it’s hard to get my balance, but for the most part I can’t get the seat right. I can’t seem to get it high enough where I can pedal like a normal person and low enough that I can still reach the ground. I thought I had it figured out tonight.. and that’s when I fell off.

I had all kinds of sand in my tires and I figured I’d better walk. I totally got stuck trying to get off my bike. I had one foot on the ground and I have no idea what happened to the other one, but I couldn’t figure it out and keep my balance at the same time.

I realized later that the strangest thing was going through my mind. I wasn’t afraid of falling, of getting stuck, or even of a car coming around the corner. The only thing going through my mind was the pain I was going to feel when I hit the ground. I could feel where my shoulders would hit the rocks, where the handlebars would hit me, how my back would hit the road. I could feel gravity pulling me down and the sting of the impact the whole time I was trying to get free. I knew I would be okay, maybe a little banged up, but okay.

I was afraid of getting hurt.

Somehow I got both my feet on the ground and I was fine. I have no idea how that happened.

I rode back home and thought about what just went through my head. I was more bummed about being hurt and having to deal with the aftermath than the actual getting hurt part. But I’d be alright.

No matter what happens in life, God is there with us. When we are sick, hurt, down on our luck, heartbroken, terrified, attacked by things we can’t see, afraid for ourselves or our friends, He is there. He holds us in the palm of his hand and makes sure we get through it. He does not leave us abandoned, no matter how much we accuse him of not helping us through our trials. Sometimes the blessing is the trial.

Sometimes you just have to realize that He has the master plan and trust that He will take care of you.

Sometimes it just takes a small miracle to reinforce your faith and help you see that He really is there.

It’s good to be back. So good.

Battle scars January 15, 2012

I have not written here in a long time. I’ve been busy.

I was going to try to start writing again, but I can’t. It’s like I’m stuck.

I realized that I haven’t talked to anybody about what’s happened in the past six months.

Then I realized that even if I did talk to somebody about it, they would never believe me.
Not even a priest would be likely to believe me.

That would be a miracle.

I don’t want people to think I’m crazy for things that have happened to me in absolute truth. At the same time, because I can’t tell anybody… I am completely alone.

I know the truth will be made known on the other side of Heaven. Until then, I have to deal with crippling anxiety on my own.

It’s like coming home from war. The battle is over, but I brought the war home with me. Nobody understands that. I want everything to be okay. I can rationalize that it -is- okay now.

I can’t stop the fear. Or the split second reactions that are more drastic than they should be.

Sometimes it feels like God has allowed all this to happen to me and just watched me, saying, “Ah, well, she’ll get over it eventually. She’ll be alright.”

I am drowning. I am reaching for help.

It’s just that nobody seems to care.

A phone call with God October 22, 2011

Hi, Daddy.

I know we haven’t talked recently. I kind of messed up, and… Well, yeah, I really messed up.

I know. I realized what I had done as soon as I did it, and I was sorry. But it was pretty serious, and I knew you would be mad.

Why? Because you can’t stand stuff like that, right? You hate sin. So I just thought…

No, I didn’t try to hide it from you. I knew you had seen what I had done.

Why didn’t I come talk to you about it? Because I was scared, Daddy.

Yeah, I was scared of you.

I wasn’t sure what you might do. You might yell, or throw things, or hit me…or get rid of me…

I don’t know, Daddy. That happened when I was little because I misbehaved, so I figured if I removed myself from the equation for a while… I don’t know, you might not be as mad or something.

Well, I don’t know if you have a temper or not, Daddy.

Yeah, she used to send me to my room, too… I guess, yeah, that’s sort of where I am now.

Where I can’t hear you.

Why would you miss hearing from someone as sinful as me?

I’m sorry, I just… I don’t get it. I’m losing my patience all the time now, I’m getting angry easier… Why would you honestly want to hear from me?

I don’t know, Daddy. I don’t know if — if you can help me. I might be beyond help. Things just keep getting worse…

Okay, okay, I get it. Because I haven’t talked to you.

I know, you didn’t mean to raise your voice, you were just trying to get your point across.

I’m just kind of ashamed of myself, Father.

You still love me after all I’ve done?

I don’t know… After something happened, I usually just got more afraid of making her mad, so I learned not to talk to her any…anymore.

You really want to talk to me? Like…you want to hear from me? Why?

Wait, back up – you still love me? After what I did?

Father, that doesn’t even make sense.

Of course love is something you have to earn, and you earn it by being good…

….because I’m…me? Just because?

You won’t yell at me?

I am sorry, I really am —

Forgiven.

Yeah, that’s kind of a new word. Idea. Yeah.

I don’t think I know what it means yet, not deep down.

You won’t hurt me for what I’ve done? Or yell at me or send me to my room or get rid of me forever because of it?

How’s life been these past few days? It’s been okay… Okay, yeah, it’s kind of sucked. I haven’t been sleeping well, and I’m not hungry, and everything feels pointless…

No, that’s not much of a life.

A…abundantly.

Yeah. I remember.

I miss you, too.

Hey, Dad?

Can I come over and see you?

Ora pro nobis (urgent) October 16, 2011

I have not been around much lately.

I have been on the battlefield.

 

I humbly beseech your prayers.

 

Please.

 

Pick up your rosary and fight with me.

Hoping. September 26, 2011

I saw a woman go into confession today before mass.

She looked just like her from where I was sitting.

God, let it be her. Please, Lord.

What a surprise that would have been. She would have seen me and sat next to me and nudged me like nothing ever happened.

I would have had someone to hold hands with for the Lord’s Prayer.

Maybe this was all just an elaborate joke. And I would laugh.

Anything to have my friend back with us.

But it wasn’t her.

Still praying.

Twenty two weeks and one. September 25, 2011

My heart is on a deserted island and my cellphone is almost dead.

Hope is just a thing blown away in the breeze.

That is all.

Heavy. September 23, 2011

I am a little more alone tonight.

I greeted the day with joy. I whisper goodbye to it in tears.

I have been abandoned.

I have been stolen from.

I hurt.

I am fighting alone.

It all just makes me a little more like Jesus.

Lord, come quickly.

Turning everything downside up. September 22, 2011

My Father likes to chase me with ideas to get my attention.

I’ve had a question nagging at me. The big question that people unsure of God like to ask, and the faithful tend to scratch their heads and shrug at.

Why does our infinitely good, wonderful, loving God allow bad things to happen to us, the children he loves so dearly?

I used to shrug and say, “Things just happen.” There is no sense in them, no divine purpose. Some crazy things just happen.

I don’t think so anymore.

God is a fan of turning upside down things downside up. Taking a bad situation and making it work for good in some way.

God can take something destructive and cause it to lead you to blessing.

God can take something unfortunate and melt hardened hearts with it.

God can take loss and lead the change in the way you view life here and beyond.

God can take something terrifying and lead you to his Son.

He has with me.

I think sometimes we aren’t able to see the positive part of it because of the timing. It may take years for the negative to show up in your life as something He has transformed just for you.

But He will do it.

And even those challenges and struggles are faith builders we all need so much, as hard as they can be to handle.

He is faithful.

Never forget that.