I continue to be sluggish in efforts to do more serious spiritual reading and writing. The parish is offering a course on spiritual direction, but obviously I cannot physically attend; yet I'm getting the weekly overviews of what is covered. I doubt I would attend as it is group workshop, and the person who has developed and facilitated it told me it is entry level.
The group sharing includes dream work; the spiritual leaning is Carmelite--St. Teresa of Avila's writings, and the dreams of St. Joseph. My desire is to have the weekly overviews which are sent via email be a means of motivating me at least to read some of Teresa's Letters. I've researched online two of the recommended bloggers' web sites; one woman is a dream facilitator for hire and the other a Carmelite priest's writings. Even in his blog writing, I somehow cannot get drawn in. Only in one that was more personal on his part, caught some attention.
Is my mind too mushy for instructive-type writing of which the words seem to go round and round? My own writing can seem like that at times, such as if I am responding to inquiries about the issues of those in what I suppose is temptation of us all at one time or another, such as myself when early on Catholic and trying to keep up with more the externals, the rules, the formats, of what St. Paul writes in Romans as the laws of man.
Otherwise my mind's writing seems simplistic in personal, journalistic form. I suppose I'm more interested in the personal, in what people are, what they feel, what is their mind, heart, and soul, what is genuine, real, spiritual in them; and perhaps that is what I then try to share of myself.
The past week I'm walking a little more, building endurance, and twice have had young family member volunteer to come lend a hand, earn some money, but also provide an uplift of spirits through forgiving and, let us pray, forgetting upsets and offenses, unintended, of course.
For a hermit, unless a religious order monk or nun who later in life requested of superior after receiving eremitic call from God, to be a hermit, the call to this eremitic vocation comes later in life. In other words, there is a life history of experiences that enrich a hermit's ability to live the vocation, but there is also background connectivity, such as relatives and spiritual friends, professional contacts such as doctors, dentists, lawyer, priests, and others we've known and of whom we continue intermittent interaction on as-needed basis.
Next week I must attempt a doctor and dentist appointment that I've put off for an added month. Thanks be to God, I now will be more able to withstand a Lyft ride to each and back. While costly, I must not put off these visits any longer. Perhaps the young family member will return for another couple of hours to help with some heavy pushing of the planter pots so they will be sheltered for the coming of colder weather; if not I will try to cover them for protection from moisture in the soil, freezing, and the planters cracking.
I had quite an unusual long-weekend, last. I did not understand while experiencing, but by Monday evening the Lord provided the reason for what had transpired. From Friday through Monday, I had vivid and frequent memories of one of my two familial sisters. The memories came in images, specific and detailed, from early childhood through last time we'd seen each other over 15 years ago. The memories included conversations, her spouse and adult children, grandchildren--of which I've only personally met three of her 14 grandchildren, and that was when they were small children, so nearly four decades ago.
The memories were not in any particular order; but they continued flowing into my conscious mind to a point that I wondered about it--especially when at one point, the images included present and future, for I sensed illness, perhaps a point in which my sister would be seriously ill, dying, and wondering would I be able to travel to visit, to see her before she passed. That was quite odd, that snippet of image and wondering.
Also, I marveled at what I considered to be a miracle, or at minimum a tremendous and unexpected grace God gave me, in that while I had emailed both of my sisters, elder to me, that I would be having spine surgery and on what date, I rarely heard from either of them over the past 15 years since our mother passed. It is not that I had not reached out to each, myself; but over the years I accepted that they were not desirous of keeping in closer contact so kept with remembering their birthdays and Christmas, and otherwise always responded when and if they wanted to communicate.
So it was miraculous to me, as above mentioned, when the one sister closer in age to me, began texting each morning after my recent surgery. She had not wanted to communicate with me like this for years, as I've mentioned. She expressed loving encouragement, prayer, and at times even included personal aspects of her day, of her family, of what she and her spouse were doing. I tell you, it was amazing--and marvelous! It seemed as if our parents somehow were in on it, or that she was doing it as if knowing I was recovering from this surgery--a most painful and difficult recovery--mostly on my own in a temporal sense.
My sisters did not approve of my conversion to Catholicism years ago, nor did they grasp or find appropriate or acceptable, the hermit life. And this is not unusual for non-Catholics, as the hermit vocation is not at all one that other faiths tend to find meaningful or even useful, and somehow do not recognize the tradition of hermits in Christianity nor prior, such as lives of the prophets often exhibited the hermit vocation.
Regardless all this, over the four days of the vivid flow of memories of my one sister, the thoughts of present and future remained strong; it was like a bombardment of connection with this sister for that time period. In addition, I had a sense of an odd depression over that long weekend; it was not the pain despair I can battle that lasts an hour or two, nor was it a despair that can come with assaults by the devil.
Rather, it was a type of depression that had me concerned, frankly, because it was oppressive yet felt sickening. Mercy! At one point, I considered calling Dr. H. and asking him what this might be, but by then I was told within, that this is how my sister has felt and feels. She has suffered with clinical depression--based from a chemical imbalance--for years and years, from way back.
I was stunned with this inner revelation. By Monday noon I was questioning more consciously, why all these images and thoughts of this one sister to such a degree. I had even looked up on Google Maps trying to see if I could locate their house, the street view or find the street itself. While I gave up that search, for I wondered why I'd be doing that, for what purpose--I sent a text asking if they were all right due to the tornadoes in their locale.
Plus, in the past few weeks, my sister had ceased the daily texts of contact and eased them to every few days, and I let her set the pace, although I always responded, until in the past two weeks, she had ceased then replying. I figured that she had done God's bidding, and perhaps our parents' nudging, as well as her own efforts, loving and kind, to have this uncanny contact with me after so many years of not wanting to have that level of connection.
So with my inquiring about the tornadoes, I also asked if her back was improving and her exercises helping, for during our spate of post-op texting, she had gone to an orthopedist as her back had been hurting. He diagnosed arthritis and sent her to physical therapy.
I had no response to my text Monday morning, but by evening I heard back. It was a much longer text than her usual, and the news let me know why the four days of intense memories and thoughts of my sister. Her back had become quite painful about two weeks ago (when texts totally stopped); her husband took her to ER, and there after tests run, they were told she has a malignant mass in her abdomen. She said she cannot talk about it, but she gave me her husband's cell number and that of one of her daughters who lives next door to them. Even this much information I knew took much for her to share--considering the 15 years of distancing, and actually, when I had converted to Catholicism, there was a cut off for five years then, of no contact at all.
I did call the brother-in-law and the niece and got more information. Biopsy results hopefully will be in tomorrow, as the oncologists need to know which of two types is the cancer so they can then do the appropriate treatment strategy. I have had a couple texts from her since Monday, but none today. This situation has not been easy with the cross of anxiety and depression that she has suffered for years, but their faith is so strong; they are evangelical Christians with a large, Christian support network of over four decades where they live.
All this has been on my mind, though, of course, this week. There is a tremendous peace for God's will is unfolding, and all the more I am assured of the tremendous power of the Holy Trinity. It is utterly stunning how the Holy Spirit was bringing the constancy of such lucid memories and thoughts of my sister over those four days. What is even more astounding is my being given the sensation of how she feels inside, what her clinical depression is like, so that I have a true understanding and a compassion and empathy that the Lord willed for me to grasp.
Even the voice within telling me, "This is what your sister feels and suffers" was profound, for at some level, yes, I needed to know, I needed more empathy for the cross she has carried for years, as well as a gratitude for her husband who has been a faithful and supportive spouse. Depression is not easy; people tend not to understand what it is and that the person, in clinical depression, cannot simply just "snap out of it," and the medications themselves have side effects that are a cross to bear in themselves.
God is so great! God is so real! The power of the Holy Spirit brings us to knowing and embracing God's will in so many aspects! Jesus binds us to those whom He desires! I can look back at all the details of those four days and praise the Holy Trinity for preparing me for the news as well as to know that my encouragement and prayers and support are now needed, on my part, to help be a Simone of Cyrene for her, for them--when just three months ago there had barely been contact, had been no opening nor willingness for her to want to keep in touch.
Well, we just never know what God has for us around the corner, or in the next moment. Thus this selection written by Blessed Guerric of Igny (1080-1157), a Cistercian abbot, has impressed and inspired me this week, even though I still lack discipline and seem to want or need easy distraction rather than spiritual study of which I certainly have time--just not the focus still!
But I definitely know and am stunningly reminded of the numinous reality of being with others in the "in Christ," in the Holy Spirit, in the love of God's will. Uncanny, it is, yet real; freaky in some ways, yet with such tremendous peace that is the tell-tale sign of being of His Real Presence.
Yet I am concerned about my seeming lack of discipline to gird myself and utilize this time in more serious spiritual endeavor, or structured, perhaps is better word. I veer to escaping mindful reading, to what seems avoidance of maybe God Himself. I do not know for sure. It is hard to pinpoint other than I don't seem to be using time wisely or well.
So I place my total being before God in honesty and weariness, and I pray He has mercy despite my weakness and what I consider to be poor choices in distractions. At the same time--this seems horrible--I thank Him for the easy distractions that take my mind away from much thinking even if they are of lives out there in the world. May Bl. Guerric of Igny pray for me, help me, as I re-read what he wrote a millennia ago.
"The soul does not have just a bare hope in God; it overflows with hope, hope mounting upon hope as trial comes upon trial, delay upon delay....
"Listen to Isaiah...tell us with what design the Lord puts off the judgment for a time: 'The Lord delays so he can be merciful toward you, and thus he will be honored for having spared you. The Lord is a God of judgment; blessed is everyone who waits for him' (30:18). So if you are wise, give an eye to yourself to see how you are using this delay. If you are a sinner, do not be heedless but take the opportunity to repent. If you are holy, the time is given you to progress in holiness, not to slip away in the faith....
"This is the proper way of waiting for the Lord, keeping his troth. Even though we may miss the consolation of his presence we must not look about us adulterously but wait in suspense for his return.... Fitting indeed it is that the people should be in suspense, as it were, between heaven and earth, unable as yet to grasp heavenly affairs but preferring even so not to have contact with those of earth."
[Just had a text from my sister who had doctor appointment. She is praising God that her cancer is a more treatable type, the lymphoma, not the sarcoma. I had asked that favor of the Lord, if it be His will. I am praising Him for the goodness of this biopsy report, and I know He has not laid this cross at her feet, in addition to the other crosses she bears, if not for His perfect purposes. Next she sees an oncologist to begin treatment. She is picking up this cross given her.
I admit that I'd not want treatment, but I have tasted death before, and how sweet it is. I had hoped I would die in this past surgery but did not--not even despite the difficulty they were having to keep me breathing for several hours in recovery ICU. I know the Lord has me here to fulfill my mission. Yet I am still an unprofitable servant, or so it seems to me.
I will pray for this sister of mine who is courageously setting out to carry this cross well, for His Name's sake and to the glory of God as witness to her family, especially the many grandchildren, and for the many long-time, Christian friends. I will build her up with what words the Holy Spirit offers me to use in texts, despite my own phase of weariness, or laziness, or both. Nasty headache this morning; a small trial indeed it is--but one thorn of His crown of thorns.]
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