Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Benedictine’ Category

Do you think you don’t matter because you can’t do “big” things anymore? Click here to read a short entry on the blog of a Benedictine monk..

Read Full Post »

One need not have a monastic vocation or be drawn to the Benedictine to understand the struggle.  We all struggle in many ways.

As I struggle with this disease and the effects of it on my life, as I desire so deeply to be ever more in love with God yet fall down daily in my seeking, I find myself praying almost constantly both with words and without, “I can’t do this without You.”
This post by Fr. T. Becket A. Franks, O.S.B which shares a poem by Aurelius Prudentius Clemens, an early Iberian Christian poet, speaks deeply to me. I hope it speaks to the readers here as well.

Peace.

Becketmonk

We too are those disciples in the boat sent by Jesus to the other side of the sea.  In the words of the early Church writer, Origen, “Faith is learned by risk.”  During the fourth watch of our nights, how will we manage the winds and waves of our lives?  Will we hold true to our faith, to our monastic vocation?

Reflecting on these questions, Aurelius Prudentius Clemens, an early Iberian Christian poet, writes this:

Thus I by my loquacious tongue

From the heaven of silence am led

Into perils unknown and dark.

Not as Peter, disciple true ,

Confident in his virtue and faith,

I am one who unnumbered sins

Have shipwrecked on the rolling seas….

How easily can I be shipwrecked,

One untaught in seafaring arts,

Unless you, Almighty Christ,

Stretch forth your hand with help divine.

View original post

Read Full Post »

The things that trigger the need to write always surprise me.  This time it was a simple question asked by my friend and oblate mentor that set me to pondering for days.  “How are you doing?”  I know, I’ve written before about answering the “How are you?” question but this was different for me; I’m hoping that by writing today I’ll figure out why and maybe even be able to answer it.

First, a little background.  Since I am mostly homebound, I thought at first that it might be impossible for me to be accepted as a Benedictine Oblate candidate.  But God does indeed use all things and inspired the Oblate Director of the monastery with which I am now affiliated to offer me the opportunity to study at home.  Part of his decision included asking a particular oblate of the monastery to act as my mentor. Their actions speak strong lessons regarding what it means to invite Christ more deeply into one’s life via the Rule of St. Benedict.  She and I have met only twice in person but, I am honored and happy to say, have become friends as well as fellow travelers on the Benedictine path.

So, why did the caring inquiry of a friend who even remarked that she didn’t want to intrude into my privacy (something she did not in any way do!) render me mute for so long?

“How are you doing?”  “Better than most and not as good as some” would be the glib answer – yet it’s also true.  Barring the desires of some in power to dismantle my husband’s pension plan, our lifestyle is fairly secure which is something most of the world would give much to be able to say.  As hard as this disease is, there are far harder, so I am once again fortunate.  We have so far been able to afford our medicines; again, almost embarrassingly fortunate.  Our family is safe and all one has to do is look at a headline to know how blessed we are in that!  The wealth I enjoy in these things and others is indescribable, yet I felt completely unable to answer that question.

“How are you doing?”  Well, a medicine I had hope for doesn’t seem to agree with me, adding another to a long list, so I’m still struggling with acceptance.

“How are you doing?”  I’m feeling a bit lost, very sick, and trying to cover it up so others won’t leave me out of things more than I already am, so I am still struggling with acceptance.

“How are you doing?”  It hurts terribly when  others know more about my children and grandchildren than I do because of the isolation this disease imposes, so I am still struggling with acceptance.

“How are you doing?”  I feel overwhelmed by the least things that others do with such astonishing ease, so I am still struggling with acceptance.

“How are you doing?”  I get scared about the future even as I profess my trust in God, so I am still struggling with acceptance.

“How are you doing?”  I feel I’m handling it one moment and crash the next into a bewildered mess of sickness and pain, so I am still struggling  with acceptance.

“How are you doing?”  I sometimes want to scream when someone tells me about ordinary things they do and which I know I will never do, so I am still struggling with acceptance.

“How are you doing?”  I fight an unbecoming resentment when there are breakthroughs for other diseases and none for this one, so I am still struggling with acceptance.

“How are you doing?”  I am both irritated with myself  and deeply ashamed for the whole list above and for all the things I haven’t listed, knowing how absolutely blessed I am in all that truly matters, so I am still struggling with – myself.

Well, it seems there we have it , the voice unmuted, the answer I needed for myself.   “How are you doing?”  I’m struggling with acceptance.  I’m struggling.  But in those words “I’m struggling” there is life, isn’t there?   I’m a very poor example of a Benedictine of any stripe, but I’m struggling.  Time to email my friend.  

 

Peace.

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

Drought.

*

Pond recedes

Cold depths remain

Lives flourish

unaware

of larger

 concerns.

*

Boulder tip revealed

Sign

rarely seen

We need

rain.

*

Surface concerns

Depths undisturbed

It was always

 there

unseen.

*

World drawn back

Hidden  revealed

Sun graces

cold

stone.

*

Turtles rise

leave darkness

Claw and muscle

strive for

warmth.

*

 Radiance or cloud

rock is comfort

Between worlds

turtles

 know.

*

Peace.

Read Full Post »

You might think that as I approach yet another anniversary with this disease and that since I’m no spring chicken either (I’d have to make the Guinness Book of Records to still call myself “middle-aged” though I’m sticking with the label anyway) I’d be smarter.

Yes, you might think that – but you’d be wrong.

I’ve written here and spoken many times to others about making the tough choices to live well with chronic illness. Hang on a sec, what’s that in the mirror? Whew, I thought my forehead had “doofus” written on it! I’m pretty sure that I deserve the label even if it’s not showing up in the mirror at the moment.

It took until very early this morning to make me see more clearly that I cannot live well with this disease, be true to my beliefs and still drive myself crazy when what I usually view as a choice or decision comes into play. Okay, I know, I’m rambling again – here we go…

The day before yesterday was pretty rough in terms of strength. I had none. So yesterday when I woke feeling even worse, I wasn’t too surprised to end up in the stinky embrace of the Migraine Monster. September was a relatively easy month in terms of migraines so I tried hard to just go with it and not think too much about the loss of what little up-time I get in a day.

I do have at least some appreciation for how fortunate I am even in the midst of the monster attacks.  I count my many blessings backwards and forwards and they are breathtaking in their expanse.  You might think that would make me humble and again – you’d be wrong.

In the grip of the stinky Migraine Monster’s embrace, I realized that it was Tuesday and that meant I’d probably have to miss the Scripture study group at church that I’ve been going to.  It meets once a week in the evening for two months at a time and then is off for two months.  Take note, please, of that word in italics “probably.”

At the best of times the physical toll of going to that group is almost more than I can bear.  Yet there I was, wondering just where to place the drop cloth to catch the mess when my head would finally explode through my eyeball (gross, eh?) and I’m thinking I would PROBABLY  have to miss it?  Granted, I have the blessing of triptans to abort the attacks but they work only about 50% of the time if I am very careful.  Going out to a meeting that involves sitting  upright in a sadistically designed metal folding chair for an hour and a half is not being very careful – not ever  – let alone on a migraine day!   I know that.  I knew that.  Yet I still felt I had to make a choice.  Until the very moment it would have been time to leave I still thought “maybe I should go – it’s not that bad right now.”

Credit my husband with common sense, not me.  I don’t want to think about how many times I asked his opinion before I let him go without me.

Credit God and knowing I’d just posted here that I wanted to be accountable for better integrating my spiritual life with this disease for doing what I could do; praying Evening Prayer (aka Vespers) instead.

And then the kidney stones began to move.

Yep, this disease will truly mess with every single system.  Neurological, endocrine, immune and whatever else I can’t think of at the moment.  Lately, it’s been messing with them all at one time but those stones really topped it off.

I was going to go that meeting despite a migraine attack.  Unbeknownst to me, the chills I’d developed in the later hours were the foreshadowing of kidney stones, but no matter what the cause, I was going to go to that meeting because I had a choice!  I had to make a decision!

At 3:00am as the kidney stones became only occasional zings, I finally understood the only decision I really have in life with this disease and I committed to it long ago.  I understood it thanks to the wisdom of a priest who recently submitted to being pummeled by my Niagara Falls of words and anguish about “am I trying hard enough.”   I heard him at the time but it took new life in the wee hours after a really hard day.

“Love your neighbor as you love yourself.”

It’s a balance – again with the balance!

I don’t actually have choices and decisions in these matters beyond that.   All these years I’ve sought  permission to see to what I need. Yet all that time I not only had permission, I was actually commanded to love myself, too.  I would not do to a neighbor what I do to myself.  Where is the balance in that?

There was no decision to be made yesterday, no choice.   Only that sweet voice of invitation saying I am loved and telling me to extend that love to everyone else;  including myself.  I have been making it all so complicated and so muddled.

It is all so simple.

 

Peace.

 

Read Full Post »

That’s what I’ve been asking myself during this long period of time away from this blog.

“What would I write?  Have I anything else to say?  Can I say anything new of value to anyone?”

That last question was the biggest one and, as I have just now realized, the most arrogant.  Who am I to think anything I have to say has value?  Rather, isn’t the truth that I learn from everyone else?  Isn’t the truth that in the act of writing it is I who receive the gift?

Ah, there’s the truth!  I am the one who benefits by writing here.  And I’m  in need of those benefits.

You see, thanks to this disease and thanks to my personality which  is filled with shortcomings and tends to the solitary (I don’t think I ever really learned how to be a good friend) I am fairly isolated from what I think of as the world and live way too much in my chattering mind.

Now, in some respects that’s a good thing.  I’ve learned strengths that help me deal with this disease for example. I’ve been able to respond to my spiritual call.  But (there always is one, isn’t there) to keep it up for the long term I also need community.  With this disease, that’s a huge challenge.  How does one fit into a community when generally unable to leave home?  How does the community even know one exists?

Another less-than-humble aspect there!  “I want someone to know I existed!” she whines.

Oh, I have so much to learn!  Sometimes I imagine God as someone shaking their head and saying “HL, I’ve given you everything you need in umpteen (yes, God as I imagine this says “umpteen”) different ways – WHAT MORE CAN YOU NEED?”

Apparently, I need this – this non-existent place of electronic communication.  It keeps me honest with myself and gives me perspective.  It takes me outside my own tiny world, my own head.

For what it’s worth to anyone willing to spend precious time reading here, I guess this means I’m back. It definitely means I apologize to those I’ve neglected without explanation.  Please forgive me for that.

I don’t yet fully know where this new era of writing will take me.  I imagine it more as my days of trying to be more accountable for my spiritual life as it integrates with my life with ME/CFS. For those who dislike reading about the spiritual life of another, I can’t separate myself into sections but can say with all my heart that I respect everyone’s path to God (name Him as you will) and do not seek to tell anyone what their path should be!

I hope it will be worth reading – I know it will do me good to write.  I’m thankful to the folks behind WordPress for the opportunity!

Peace.

Read Full Post »