Spiritual Ramblings

On Faith…

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Author’s Note

I’ve been thinking about faith a lot in the past few years. I spent hours last night working on a piece. This is not that piece. This is an anaphora poem from tonight’s first Unspoken Ink prompt.  Poetry is not my genre either, so I’m all sorts of out of my comfort zone in tonight’s writings.

I figure if I keep thinking and writing I will eventually get my head, my heart, and my soul right.

On Faith

Faith is belief in things unseen.

Faith is believing you don’t have to go through this alone.

Faith is knowing he will raise you up on the last day.

Faith is wondering where he is during the fall.

Faith is hoping like hell that’s a ball pit down there while you’re falling.

Faith is swimming against the current when your arms gave out ten miles ago.

Faith is knowing with every fiber of your being that going to find the shore.

Faith is making it to shore and having no idea where to go next or how to get there.

Faith is lighting smoke signals every day in the hopes you will be found.

Faith is continuing on barefoot and alone.

Faith is continuing to walk even though you don’t know the way.

Faith is wondering who crashed the plane and if the pilot survived.

Faith is wondering where he is.

Faith is lighting another Goddamn smoke signal fire.

Faith is knowing a rescue (answers) may never come but walking on and lighting fires anyway, because you have faith there will come a road that will lead you home.

Faith is belief in things unseen.

Be Bold and Mighty Forces Will Come to Your Aid

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Cathedral Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul, Philadelphia

 

Two posts from me. In one day? Hell may have truly frozen over. But, I just came home from mass and my heart was overflowing.

 

I went to mass tonight for the first time since my cancer returned and I lost my left side vision and Chuck died. I got in an Uber and off I went. My driver was a woman named Tasha, who lives one development over. She’s a born again Christian and we talked the whole way to mass. I was her first and second Uber fares, tonight was her first night driving. I really believe there are no coincidences and that God puts people in front of us when they are meant to be there.

 

I feel like I’m in the midst of spiritual reawakening. Ever since I took part in the 101 Tasks in in 1,001 days I’ve been thinking about what my spiritual goals are. One goal I wrote down for the 101 Tasks was go to mass on the feast of the Assumption. I didn’t feel great this morning, in fact I’ve been exceptionally tired all week, but I had my art class today and it was our summer birthdays party and I promised to bring the pizza from Liscio’s so I got myself together and got in an Uber, picked up the pizza, and headed to class. It was a good class with lots of good, happy, fun conversation. These ladies are so amazing.

 

As I was saying, I believe God puts people in front of you when they are supposed to be there. One of these amazing women, Deborah, gave me a card last week with a bible verse from Corinthians, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” I’ve been meditating on these words every day when I say my rosary, along with the words I found when reading about praying more intentionally, “God, please turn up in my messy life.”

 

Another of my spiritual goals from the 101 Tasks was the to back to saying the rosary every day and Kelly’s Tiny Rosary arrived just in time to be part of that goal. I feel loved when I pray my new, fun rosary.

 

I cried my way through mass tonight, weepy with gratitude that God brought me there and allowed me the courage to not be afraid to be out alone. I’ve run errands alone with an Uber waiting right outside, but I was alone for almost an hour tonight. I knew Tasha said she would hang around and if she didn’t get another call would come back for me after mass so I felt a little more comfortable knowing she might be back. I’ve been so afraid for so long, it’s tough to be independent when a migraine might come on and cause a visual disturbance. And, I’ve been so angry, confused, and lost at all that’s happened in the last two years. I’ve founded in my faith and at times I’ve been hatefully angry at God and the universe and fate. I’ve doubted and cursed God. How do you beg mercy from a God you’d like to pummel? You just do.

 

I am weepy with gratitude for the last few really good days. Sunday with an amazing group of amazing women, Monday getting myself to and from my neurologist appointment alone in an Uber, Tuesday doing the same to get to my therapist appointment and Rite to pick up a prescription, and today to Liscio’s, my art class, and mass. Freedom is an incredible gift and loss of freedom and independence is huge loss. I’m slowly finding my faith, my feet, and my freedom again and it feels good.

 

When I got out of the car tonight Tasha told me she would pray for me and I told her that I have my MRI coming up on August 31st and she prayed with me right there. I got mostly positive news when a loved one prayed over me in July so I’m hopeful Tasha’s prayers will be equally helpful. I really am weepy with gratitude that I was able to go to mass tonight on this, the feast of the Assumption.

 

I am so blessed to be surrounded by so many loving family, friends, and an assorted cast of characters who inspire me and make me feel safe enough to be brave.

 

Blessed be…

Grieving: Am I Doing it Wrong?

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I wasn’t prepared for this. I spent all year fearing my father would die. But I did not see this coming. Even though I knew Jenn wasn’t feeling well, even through I knew Jenn was in a lot of pain with a multitude of health problems I never thought Jenn would die. I still thought Jenn would get better and we’d go back to meeting for pizza.

Even when Jenn’s husband called me and I heard his voice on the other end of the phone I still believed he would tell me that Jenn had finally gone to the ER that they’d kept her. I heard him say the words, “Jenn died” and in the time it took to say those two words my world changed. I hung up the phone and went to pieces.

We spoke on an almost daily basis. Jenn was my breaking news friend; fires, floods, mass shootings, big storms, you name it; if it was breaking news she called. We’d discuss the incident and witness it together. The bad stuff doesn’t seem as bad or as frightening when you’ve got a familiar and friendly voice on the other end of the phone.

I still can’t believe I’m never going to hear Jenn’s voice again. I can’t believe she’s gone. We went to Jenn’s farewell ceremony last night and I couldn’t bring myself to touch the urn as we made our final pass and said our final goodbye. I can’t tell you why, but I just couldn’t.

I don’t know to feel. I had a big cry when I got off the phone with Jenn’s husband and I’ve had moments when I’ve filled up, but I’m oddly calm. That afternoon I called a friend to inform her that Jenn had died and we cried together and then that night I still had to go get dinner and then grocery shop. I called another friend to let her knew that Jenn had passed. I spoke to another friend the next morning and I did not cry along with her. I don’t know why.

I filled up in the car on the way home last night thinking how I’ll never hear Jenn’s voice again but I haven’t had that one big breakdown save for when I first found out. I always tell people that no one should tell them how to grieve and that they have to grieve in their own way and in their own time and yet I find myself thinking, “You’re doing it wrong. Why aren’t you more upset? Why aren’t you falling apart? What’s wrong with you?”

I’m sad and I definitely suffered from horrible anxiety all day yesterday desperately not wanting to go to Jenn’s farewell service wondering if I could live with myself if I did not at least make an appearance. I’m glad I did go. I didn’t sleep for the first four days after I learned Jenn died. I finally came home and took something to help me sleep and I got the first solid four hours of sleep I’ve had since Sunday.

So here I am, awake in the early morning and feeling more rested than I’ve been in the last five days, wondering, “Where do I go from here?” Jenn’s gone, our goodbyes have been said, and now all that is left is life without Jenn. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know how to act. I’m grateful that she’s no longer in pain, I’m grateful she’s no longer suffering, but I hate that she’s no longer part of my daily life. Who’s going to call me when there’s breaking news? Why am I not more upset? I don’t understand. What’s wrong with me? My heart is broken. Is the epic meltdown to come? Could it be that some people never have epic meltdowns?

I’ve fiercely told anyone I’ve ever known who was grieving that there is no one way to grieve and that they shouldn’t allow anyone to place a timeline on their grieving or tell them how to grieve, but yet I can’t help thinking that I am doing it wrong. Is there a wrong way to grieve? Where do I go from here?

On Faith & Divine Mercy

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Sunset after mass, Sunday, April 7, 2013

Today is Divine Mercy Sunday. The priest said in his sermon tonight that God meets us where we are. I’ll add that to the thoughts that have been running through my head this week.

I’ve been struggling with the deaths of several people I grew up with/went to school with, all of whom were of similar ages. In the last three years I’ve survived two major surgeries, four minor surgeries, and 32 radiation treatments. I’m a little more than one-year cancer-free and I know that it could have been me. I could have been any one of the three who died. I’m grieving for the loss of the cocoon of invincibility that youth and good health provide.

Tonight by the grace of God’s divine mercy and the power of prayer I’m alive and well and grateful for my life. I’ll work the rest out as I go.

Happy Easter! (hope is risen alleluia)

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The great gift of Easter is hope – Christian hope which makes us have that confidence in God, in his ultimate triumph, and in his goodness and love, which nothing can shake.

Basil Hume

It’s a quiet Saturday night at Casa de Soapboxville and my thoughts have turned philosophical. For years I didn’t celebrate Easter. My dad had his first heart attack on Easter 2003. My grandmother died the Saturday before Holy Week in 2005. I foolishly decided to just ignore the day from then on. Sitting here now it occurs to me that Easter is a celebration of rebirth and resurrection and of second chances.

I’m so grateful for all my healing (rebirth & resurrection). I’m also very grateful for all my friends who’ve come back into my life (second chances). I love you all (friends & family) so very much. Thank you for your prayers and your love and your support. I needed it and it was and is very much appreciated.

If you have a dream you’ve let slide now is the time to again breathe life into it. If you’ve let a difference linger now is the time to either say you’re sorry or to forgive or maybe both. It’s time to let go of the past and all its sorrows. It’s spring, a time when all is new and green and anything is possible.

Happy Easter my lovelies!

~ Carol Anne