Feb 9, 2023 |
by Michaela
I knelt on the floor of the chapel in my favorite spot – next to a pillar near the front, hidden from view of most of the chapel, but near the tabernacle. Almost immediately Jesus’ words from the Gospel of Luke surfaced in my mind: “And he said to them in reply, ‘Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.’” (Luke 7:22).
What was also clear was that these healings would form five mysteries to meditate on through the Rosary (or six – to include “the poor have the good news proclaimed to them” if you pray a Brigittine Rosary). Praying with these mysteries has opened my eyes to just how much Jesus can and will heal me.
There are ways where spiritually I cannot see, and Jesus wants to heal that blindness. There are times when I want to follow Him, but cannot because of brokenness that is keeping me from moving. He desires to heal that too. When I feel untouchable because of my sins and failings He makes me clean again – especially through the Sacrament of Reconciliation where my soul is washed clean by His Blood.
There are so many ways Jesus desires to make me whole again, and this redemption is at work even now. Healing sometimes isn’t easy. Sometimes there is the fear of disappointment, or wondering if the remedy will be more painful than the malady, or knowing that to be healed means that life will be changed and there is no going back.
As I pray with these mysteries, I sometimes sense Him ask me in my heart, “Do you want to be healed?” (John 5:6) and with each mystery I ask for the grace to say, “Yes, Lord. I want to be healed.”
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First Mystery: The Blind Regain Their Sight (Luke 18:35-43)
Now as he approached Jericho a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging, and hearing a crowd going by, he inquired what was happening. They told him, “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.” He shouted, “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!” The people walking in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent, but he kept calling out all the more, “Son of David, have pity on me!” Then Jesus stopped and ordered that he be brought to him; and when he came near, Jesus asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?” He replied, “Lord, please let me see.” Jesus told him, “Have sight; your faith has saved you.” He immediately received his sight and followed him, giving glory to God. When they saw this, all the people gave praise to God.
Second Mystery: The Lame Walk (Luke 5:17-26)
One day as Jesus was teaching, Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting there who had come from every village of Galilee and Judea and Jerusalem, and the power of the Lord was with him for healing. And some men brought on a stretcher a man who was paralyzed; they were trying to bring him in and set [him] in his presence. But not finding a way to bring him in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on the stretcher through the tiles into the middle in front of Jesus. When he saw their faith, he said, “As for you, your sins are forgiven.” Then the scribes and Pharisees began to ask themselves, “Who is this who speaks blasphemies? Who but God alone can forgive sins?” Jesus knew their thoughts and said to them in reply, “What are you thinking in your hearts? Which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise and walk’? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he said to the man who was paralyzed, “I say to you, rise, pick up your stretcher, and go home.” He stood up immediately before them, picked up what he had been lying on, and went home, glorifying God. Then astonishment seized them all and they glorified God, and, struck with awe, they said, “We have seen incredible things today.”
Third Mystery: Lepers are Cleansed (Luke 5:12-16)
Now there was a man full of leprosy in one of the towns where he was; and when he saw Jesus, he fell prostrate, pleaded with him, and said, “Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.” Jesus stretched out his hand, touched him, and said, “I do will it. Be made clean.” And the leprosy left him immediately. Then he ordered him not to tell anyone, but “Go, show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses prescribed; that will be proof for them.” The report about him spread all the more, and great crowds assembled to listen to him and to be cured of their ailments, but he would withdraw to deserted places to pray.
Fourth Mystery: The Deaf Hear (Mark 7:31-37)
Again he left the district of Tyre and went by way of Sidon to the Sea of Galilee, into the district of the Decapolis. And people brought to him a deaf man who had a speech impediment and begged him to lay his hand on him. He took him off by himself away from the crowd. He put his finger into the man’s ears and, spitting, touched his tongue; then he looked up to heaven and groaned, and said to him, “Ephphatha!” (that is, “Be opened!”) And [immediately] the man’s ears were opened, his speech impediment was removed, and he spoke plainly. He ordered them not to tell anyone. But the more he ordered them not to, the more they proclaimed it. 37They were exceedingly astonished and they said, “He has done all things well. He makes the deaf hear and [the] mute speak.”
Fifth Mystery: The Dead are Raised (John 11:38-44)
So Jesus, perturbed again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay across it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the dead man’s sister, said to him, “Lord, by now there will be a stench; he has been dead for four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone. And Jesus raised his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you for hearing me. I know that you always hear me; but because of the crowd here I have said this, that they may believe that you sent me.” And when he had said this, he cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, tied hand and foot with burial bands, and his face was wrapped in a cloth. So Jesus said to them, “Untie him and let him go.”
Scripture texts in this work are taken from the New American Bible, revised edition © 2010, 1991, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Washington, D.C. and are used by permission of the copyright owner. All Rights Reserved. No part of the New American Bible may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
Dec 29, 2022 |
by Therese Martin
Like many people, I suddenly started to work from home in March 2020 because of the government lockdowns. I was at home and in my neighborhood all day long. When the weather was nice, I would sit in the backyard during my lunch break. I intended to read or pray, but instead, I often found myself just looking around.
During that time, I began to notice the patterns of the animals. I saw squirrels, chipmunks, and various birds like woodpeckers going about their day. But for some reason, I was intrigued by the cardinals, and I began to notice them everywhere. When I saw one, I felt like God was saying “hi,” and they became a little ray of light in my life.
How did it come to this? I’m not entirely sure. I do know that I was initially resistant. However, I slowly became more open to noticing this little “hello” during this time of anxiety and loneliness.
Over that year, I became more aware and alert. As a result, I began to notice cardinals all over the place. I would see a cardinal mug in a shop window or a decorative cardinal in someone’s yard while out for a walk. Though these were not live birds, I still felt that God was saying “hello.” I needed to be open to a new way of communicating. If I had been stuck in the mindset of “live birds only,” I would have missed these cardinals.
In my life, I know I have a tendency to be very black and white, and I am extremely disappointed and hurt when I feel that others aren’t showing me love in the “right way.” But the Lord showed me and taught me other variations of the same message.
I also learned the songs of the cardinal, which helped me notice their presence even more often. The sound of a cardinal told me that it was nearby. I got into the habit of stopping my walk when I’d hear the cardinal and try to find it. But there were many times when I could not locate the bird itself even though I could hear it. This helped illustrate a spiritual truth I have heard in various ways: just because you can’t “see” God doesn’t mean He’s not there. What other senses can you use?
I also noticed something funny about myself while trying to find cardinals. I would hear the song but couldn’t get a clear sense of where it was coming from. When trying to find the bird, I would always look up into the tall trees. But after straining to find the bird, I would often see it perched in a low bush. A great reminder of humility! Look down!
I have found all of this to be a beautiful analogy of the spiritual life. I have struggled with the idea that God has a particular love for me, and I have wondered if He pays me any attention. This has been even more pronounced after returning to lay life.
Because of this, I have been trying to become more aware of God’s presence, and I’ve prayed specifically to vibrate at the Spirit’s touch (Novo millennio ineunte, Pope John Paul II). My experience with cardinals has helped me a great deal in this regard.
I once heard a story about a woman who was returning to her faith. She would find dimes (small American coins) and felt they were a way that God was expressing his love to her. With some amount of bitterness and resentment I thought, “well isn’t that nice? Good for you. God doesn’t show His love to me.” I also found it strange that she took such a meaning from something so simple. But now I can begin to understand that story because I’ve been experiencing something similar.
St. Therese speaks about the bird trusting that the sun exists behind the clouds, even though the bird cannot see it. Now that we know about UV rays, etc., we have other ways to demonstrate the presence of the sun even when one cannot see it. I feel that way with the cardinals. I don’t need to see them to know they are there once I know their song. And now that I know they live nearby, I don’t even need to see or hear them to know they are present.
During that spring and summer, I noticed the cardinals were everywhere. But then, sometime in the fall, it seemed as though they disappeared. These birds do not migrate. Yet, I did not hear them or see them anymore. Did God no longer care?
As I struggled with my own faith and various wounds, the lack of this sign became more difficult. After all of the gentle reminders of His presence, the absence became harder and harder as time passed. I tried to remind myself of His presence and the truths I had learned, but it was incredibly difficult.
After what seemed like forever, they began to return! I hadn’t noticed before how much Christmas decor features the cardinal. There they were, saying hello to me on a Christmas card from a friend or on the ornaments on my parents’ Christmas tree.
Now I suddenly see and hear the birds again! It’s bitterly cold, and the snow just keeps piling up. And yet they are here. Spring seems impossible, but the birds tell me that it is coming.
Throughout that year, I learned much about the Lord through the cardinals. Have you experienced anything similar? Please share your comments below!
Isaiah’s prophecy is fulfilled in them, which says:
“You shall indeed hear but not understand,
you shall indeed look but never see.
Gross is the heart of this people,
they will hardly hear with their ears, they have closed their eyes,
lest they see with their eyes
and hear with their ears
and understand with their heart and be converted,
and I heal them.”
But blessed are your eyes, because they see, and your ears, because they hear.
Amen, I say to you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.
(Mt 13:14-17)
Dec 21, 2022 |
by Emma
One of my favorite things is praying in the church when the only light is the gentle glow of the sanctuary lamp. It reminds me that no matter how dark things get, as long as Jesus is with me there will be light. And He is always with me. I need only turn my gaze to Him. As St. Elizabeth of the Trinity prays, “O my beloved Star, so fascinate me that I may not withdraw from Your radiance.”
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).
This verse at the beginning of John has always intrigued me. The tense “has not” seems to allude to my own human uncertainty and the necessity of remembrance. When I am in darkness, I can wonder if we will ever see the light again. I can wonder if we will ever find happiness. I can wonder if God is love. But the darkness has not overcome the light. I can remember how God has come through, not just for His people but also in my own life. He who said, “let there be light” (Genesis 1) wants to speak those words into the dark corners of my heart and re-kindle Christ’s life within me.
“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light” (Isaiah 9:2).
There may be times when it seems like light has vanished, but somehow in some way, it returns. In Fire of Mercy, Heart of the Word, Erasmo Leiva-Merikakis reflects on how “the star is as much a character in this drama as are the Magi, Herod, and the Child. It appears and disappears at will; and it moves with total certainty and obedience toward the place that draws it toward itself.”
Just like the Magi, there may be moments when I cannot see the Great Light. But that doesn’t mean He isn’t there, continuing to guide me home. Even in the darkness.
“Even the darkness is not dark to you, the night is as bright as the day; for darkness is as light with you” (Psalm 139).
When I am in darkness, when I want light, I sometimes think I find myself asking for the wrong thing. This light isn’t consolation. It isn’t knowing what is going on or where to go. This light is the light of a God who is with me. A God who reveals Himself as Emmanuel. This is the light that isn’t overcome.
That is why “they will need no light from a lamp or the sun…” and “awake o sleeper arise from death and Christ will give you light” (Ephesians 5:14). That is, Christ will give me Himself. When I ask for light, I need to remember that I am asking for someone and not something.
As St. Bernard writes, “It is good for me to be sad, O Lord, as long as you are with me, rather than to be a king apart from you, to feast without you, to boast without you. It is better for me to embrace you in tribulation, to have you with me in the furnace, than to be without you in heaven” (Office of Readings for St. Pancras, Martyr).
The light is a person. The light is Jesus. The light is Emmanuel, God-with-us.
“I am the light of the world; he who follows me will have the light of life” (John 8:12).
Light, and our interaction with it, is fascinating. Our eyes do not see the objects themselves, but rather the light that is reflected by the objects. If there is no light, I cannot see. And this is very true for the spiritual life. I cannot truly see other people, situations, or things apart from Him.
When I cry out, “Master, I want to see!” it is the same as saying, “Master, Jesus, I want You!” I want You to be near me. I need You in order to see, because without you—without the light of the world—I am merely grasping at shadows. I want to see things as they really are. I want to see them in Your light.
“The Light of Christ. Thanks be to God.”
Feb 10, 2022 |
by Myrta Moynihan
For the last year or so, I’ve been reading and meditating on the Sunday readings beforehand. It’s been interesting and fruitful. I am more aware of the readings themselves and better able to follow along. Furthermore, I’ve noticed patterns and relationships between the various texts. It is Year C in Ordinary Time and three of the Second Readings we heard last month come from I COR 12 and 13.
I’ve read this part of 1st Corinthians at various times in my life, but as we know, scripture is “ever ancient and ever new.” These passages are striking me in a different way today than in the past. Paul states that “there are different forms of service.” This line didn’t jump out at me until now. A great reminder that being in lay life isn’t “bad” or “less than.” Paul then lists spiritual gifts and his ending reminds us that these are actual gifts. God gives them “as he wishes.” As a result, I should not be jealous of others (though that can be easier said than done!). I should also have gratitude for the gifts I have received.
Next we had I COR 12:12-30 (I hope you heard the long version at Mass!). Once again, I’ve come across this passage a “million times” before. But I now realize that I only had gifts, talents or skills in mind when I heard or read this portion. The mouth (someone good at public speaking) cannot say to the arm (someone good at loving others), I don’t need you. We all have different gifts, of course! I’m sure I was in this frame of mind because it follows after the list of spiritual gifts.
But, this time I started reflecting on various states of life. Even if you only heard the short version (I COR 12:12-14,27), you’ll notice he mentions, “Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons.” (vs 13) In my mind, this has to do with different “tribes,” ways of living, in-groups and out-groups. As a middle-aged, lay, single, woman, I am an outsider in Catholic communities. It could be easy for me to say to myself, “I do not belong to the body.” (vs15) And, let’s be honest, there are people in the church who have said “I do not need you” (vs 21) through their words, actions or both. But this is a lie. How do we know? Paul states, “But as it is, God placed the parts, each one of them, in the body as he intended.” (vs 18).
That’s great news! Even if I appear unwanted and unneeded in the Church, it’s not true. This also challenges me to step up and make sure that others feel welcomed and have a sense of belonging. Are there people on the fringes that are a part of your parish or community? Reach out to them!
Finally, this line struck me: “Indeed, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are all the more necessary.” (vs 22). This restates the above point that the body needs us and we all have a place in the body. But then it takes it even further. If you feel like you don’t have value because you can’t contribute, are too weak, etc. that is a lie. I live in the USA and society tells us that if you can’t produce things, your life has no value. As a result, weakness is a liability and I must conclude that I have no value as a person. But our faith contradicts this message. When I realize how weak I am, my response should now be, “Yay for me!” That weakness makes me even more important and valuable!
Today let’s ask God for the spiritual gifts and thank him for those that we have already. Let’s also make an extra effort to tell ourselves and others the truth: We need you. You are necessary!
How do you feel in your parish or community? Do you feel like a necessary member of the body? Please comment below!
May 10, 2021 |
By 
Christina M. Sorrentino
“He who knows how to forgive prepares for himself many graces from God. As often as I look upon the cross, so often will I forgive with all my heart.” (St. Faustina, Diary, 390)
Forgiveness is a tremendous challenge when it often seems that by offering pardon to another we are surrendering to a loss of justice. But the reality is that forgiveness does not diminish justice, it leaves it to God. We are assured by our Christian faith that there will be retribution, where God will reward the righteous with remunerative justice, and with His response of wrath against man’s sin He will inflict penalties upon the ones who choose by their own free will to remain far away from Him, which will be His retributive justice.
It was seven months ago that I made the conscious decision to forgive. I knew that forgiveness was the only way to allow the grace of God to heal my wounded heart, mind, and soul. It was not instantaneous though, and it took my heart awhile to catch up with my head. I struggled with the incredible hurt and pain that one individual, the woman who was supposed to be my “spiritual mother” inflicted upon me, especially since she admitted during the very last time that I saw her to committing the wrongdoings on purpose and for no particular reason.
My whole world was spun upside down and the vocation that meant everything to me was taken away because one person chose to become an instrument of the devil instead of an instrument of the Holy Spirit. With her head down and eyes looking downward gazing towards the floor she begged me for my forgiveness and to pray for her. At that moment forgiving her and praying for her was the hardest thing that I had ever had to do. But as soon as the words left her lips to ask me the question I immediately chose to forgive her, and to continue to pray for her as I had always done prior to my departure at the convent.
I questioned her sincerity at first in truly being repentant for what she had done to me, but ultimately decided that it was not for me to decide because God knew the disposition of her heart. And I hoped that one day she would be able to accept God’s forgiveness for what she had done, so that she could find peace just as I had found peace in forgiving her. I wanted her to be able to accept the love and mercy that I knew God was waiting to offer her in the Sacrament of Confession. Forgiveness truly sets us free.
We know the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant where the Master forgives his servant for a large debt, but then the servant refuses to forgive a small debt of his fellow servant. The Master then rebukes the first servant, and throws him in prison until his large debt would be paid in total, which would actually be beyond his lifespan. The first servant lacked great humility when he punished his fellow servant, and acted as if he had never been forgiven himself. If we do not find in our hearts to forgive those who have sinned against us, how can we then expect our Heavenly Father to be merciful and to forgive us? (Matthew 18:21-35)
When we refuse to forgive another we become a slave to the sin of pride, and lose our freedom to have peace within our hearts. Anger, bitterness, and resentment can take control over our heart, mind, and soul, and permitting such feelings to take up residence within us rents the space within our heart that is for Christ alone. If we allow these emotions to become the master of our thoughts, words, and actions then we prevent ourselves from being able to heal from the hurt and suffering, and to find peace. God desires for us to have peace, and to not spend the rest of our lives as a prisoner of pride.
“Today I decided to forgive you. Not because you apologized, or because you acknowledged the pain that you caused me, but because my soul deserves peace.” (Najwa Zebian)
How can we control our natural emotions and prevent ourselves from having the tendency to lash out or retaliate against those who have trespassed against us? We need to act on a supernatural level by allowing the graces of the Holy Spirit to work within us, and place our “littleness” before God. By placing ourselves at the feet of Jesus we can surrender our pride and imitate Christ’s example of mercy and Love. As Christ hung from the Cross painfully laboring his last breaths with blood dripping from His sacred wounds He spoke the words, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34) Having been forgiven by the Lord in His mercy and Love, can we then lower ourselves, and be humble enough to do the same and forgive another?
We can ask the Holy Spirit to give us strength, and look to the saints as models of forgiveness. St. John Vianney once said, “The saints have no hatred, no bitterness; they forgive everything, and think they deserve much more for their offenses against God.” The martyrdom of St. Stephen teaches us to forgive in his last words before death, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit… Lord, do not hold this sin against them!” (Acts 7:59-60) The child virgin and martyr, St. Maria Goretti, before taking her last breath, forgave her assailant, Alessandro Serenelli, after he stabbed her fourteen times and mortally wounded her. St. Ignatius of Loyola in the bitter cold of winter walked one hundred miles to care for a sick man who only a short time prior to his illness stole from him. Another Saint whom we often turn to for intercession to help us with forgiveness is St. Pio of Pietrelcelina, who suffered immensely at the hands of his superiors and even Vatican officials, who believed him to be a fraud.
We need to allow the light of Christ to radiate from the depth of our souls, and like the beautiful Saints before us, we can unite our hurt and pain to the suffering of Jesus on the Cross. Christ can heal our wounds, if we let Him, by transforming them into a fountain of love poured out like a libation for the sanctification of poor sinners. It is by love alone that we will be able to forgive those who have left us with these scars. The gateway of our hearts will become open to receive peace as we are set free from the yoke of bondage – the self-prison that we create for ourselves when we are held captive by our own pride – if we choose forgiveness. Corrie Ten Boom, a Christian who helped to hide Jewish refugees during the Holocaust, once said, “Forgiveness is the key that unlocks the door of resentment and the handcuffs of hatred. It is a power that breaks the chains of bitterness and the shackles of selfishness.”
Image of Saint Faustina with the Divine Mercy used under Creative Commons license. Attribution: Phancamellia245, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons.
Mar 28, 2021 |
By LumenChristi
I was on a very difficult discernment visit with a community, when a priest in confession assigned me to pray Psalm 23 as my penance.
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. . .”
As a 22-year old cradle Catholic, the words were so familiar that they had lost their meaning. But in this moment, they really took on new significance. In the midst of this stressful period, I felt Jesus reassuring me that he was there with me even though I didn’t feel it. He had led me here; he had started this journey with me and he would see me through.
He guides me along right paths for His name’s sake,
Even though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death,
I shall fear no evil, for you are at my side. . .
As I continued to read, in the chapel, before the giant crucifix that the community had behind the altar, the final verses of the psalm struck me like a lightning bolt:
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup overflows. . .
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.
This hit me strongly, with both peace and anticipation. I sensed that the Lord was really getting my attention about something. I deeply felt a call from him, that despite the difficulties, he truly was calling me to enter this community and “dwell in His House” – this house. My cup did “overflow” with joy in response to this, and as I looked at the crucifix, it seemed to me that despite the struggles and sufferings I had encountered there, he had great graces to give me also, in that particular place with that community.
Fast-forward to the following spring, when I applied to this community, and despite the revelation I thought I had received, was not accepted.
If the experience in the chapel was a lightning-bolt showing me the way ahead, the rejection letter was a thunderbolt, appearing out of nowhere and painfully throwing me to the ground. I felt jolted by this on multiple levels. Not only were there the feelings of hurt and rejection, but there was something else, even deeper. I really had – so I thought – learned to recognize and listen to the Lord’s voice and followed an instruction direct from Him. And then, it would seem, he did not keep His promise. I fulfilled my end, and he failed to uphold his.
This disturbed me even more than the circumstances and misunderstandings that led to not being accepted by the community. For if something that I clearly heard God say was not Him, how could I ever trust Him again? More importantly, how could I ever trust myself again, in believing that he spoke to me?
I learned to pray anyway, even if it was more often complaining than anything else. I learned to go to Mass anyway even though my heart felt dead rather than alive in the Lord. I learned to go through the motions of my life, seeking his will for me in practical ways (job searching, finding God in friends and family). I took comfort that St. Francis too, thought that God spoke to him (“rebuild my church”) and it meant something completely different than he thought – in fact greater than what he thought. But something was missing, completely gone, to the point where I didn’t think it would come back and barely remembered what it was in the first place.
Fast-forward again to six years later. . . I had reached a place in my spiritual life that was more peaceful. I had learned to see the Lord in my daily life, even while I was unsure about the future. I had accepted that some things about his workings with us remain a mystery in this life; but it didn’t mean they weren’t real. Yet I still felt annoyed whenever I “ran into” Psalm 23. Like an old injury or pain that is mostly gone, but “flares up” under the right conditions, Psalm 23 was a sticking point in my relationship with God. I avoided it by skimming through when it came up in any reading I was doing, thinking about something else when it came up during Mass, and generally writing it off as a part of the Bible where God had something to say to everyone except me.
Then one cold winter day, I was sitting at my kitchen table with a warm cup of tea, doing my prayer-time for the day, and generally experiencing a pleasant time with the Lord. I opened the scripture readings for that day, and lo and behold, waiting for me was That Psalm. Its’ words jumped out at me from the page and danced before my eyes. They seemed to taunt me, reminding me how I didn’t trust God enough, reminding me how much I sucked at listening to him, and how prone I was to “getting it wrong” when it came to his message for my life. Oh no, not That Psalm! I thought. Not today. I will read the gospel instead.
Normally the gospels provide me much food for meditation. But that day it just left me restless. “That Psalm” kept distracting me. So I thought, perhaps, the Lord wanted me to go there after all. I turned the page, took a deep breath, and asked Him what he wanted to say. Then, by some small yet magnificent miracle of grace, when I read the words over again, they were no longer taunting at all. They came washing over me, like gentle waves that wore away at my resistance and washed over the hurt in my heart.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. . .
He guides me along right paths for His name’s sake,
Even though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death,
I shall fear no evil, for you are at my side. . .
“This is still true,” he seemed to be saying to me. “I am still your shepherd. I always have been. Through the “deaths” of rejection and confusion, still I have been beside you. Even though you have stumbled in the dark, still you have not strayed from ‘right paths’ because I have been with you.”
You anoint my head with oil,
My cup overflows. . .
You spread a table before me in front of all my foes. . .
I realized I had been anointed. Literally. At my baptism. That was where he had chosen and called me. And that call in itself, was unique and beautiful. He had not chosen me for religious life; at least at that time, in that community. But he had chosen me to be baptized. And he called me and chose me still, out of all the others on earth who could be privileged to know His name and yet, by some mystery, hadn’t been. It was a great honor and a great responsibility. “My cup overflowed” again, for different reasons, but even more so than the first time.
I felt in that moment too, that he had “spread a table in front of all my foes” because the darkness and the devil were vanquished, in a very significant way. The “fear of being wrong” in prayer began to lose its’ power.
And then finally. . .
Only goodness and kindness follow me, all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Previously I had misinterpreted this to mean “only blessings follow me” (in my relationships with other people) all the days of my life. But now I realized, these words were not the Lord’s promise to me. They were my promise to Him, in return for His goodness as my shepherd. I would choose to be kind, to bless others, that even the smallest encounter with me would grant them an encounter with Him. And “his house” – beyond being the Church I was privileged to belong to — was also His presence. In that, I could choose to dwell always, regardless of success or failure.
These revelations were profound for me. That Psalm that taunted me was transformed into the first place I now go for consolation. When other storms have come, that is where I have found Him.
I pray that this experience of mine grants His peace to each of you reading it. I hope that it gives you a foretaste of the healing he has for you and the nearness he wishes to restore to you, even in the scriptures or devotions that you now find most painful. He makes all things new, even the thing you find most “ruined” at the moment.
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