For the past month or so I've been dealing with some physical issues. Nothing super serious, but painful, annoying things. I have been having pain in my jaw and teeth, which the dentist says is from me grinding my teeth or clenching my jaw in my sleep. I've bought a mouth guard to sleep with but it doesn't seem to be helping so far. I have the pain and it gives me low grade headaches too. I've got some bad allergies and now I have an allergy in my esophagus which feels like pressure in my chest. I have about four or five migraines a month that can be debilitating. And a week or so ago I started having pain in my left knee, which feels swollen. It difficult to walk at times. I have seen a dentist, a general practitioner, a GI, and an allergist. Some of these problems are chronic and they get better and come back. I'm tired of going to the doctor for them, because the doctors all want tests and more tests and to send me to specialists, etc. Nothing ever seems to come from it and the condition goes dormant until the next flare up.
So I'm loathe to do anything at this point.
I made an effort this year, for about six months, to do daily exercise. I feel like it's just an uphill battle with this body. Nothing I do makes much of a difference. I know I don't have any serious issues like cancer or multiple sclerosis. But I do deal with a great deal of pain on a fairly regular basis.
I know all things work to the good for those who love God. I struggle sometimes trying to see how all these conditions work to my or anyone else's good. Pain makes me grouchy and angry, short tempered, self focused.
I know there have been many saints who bore pain for God. St. Pio had the Stigmata, but he also had kidney stones, ulcers, tumors, asthmatic bronchitis, ear infections, sinusitis, pleurisy and arthritis. In addition, he describes times when demons would fight him and torment him bodily. He was also vilified by his own Church, and suffered great anguish in not being able to function fully as a priest for years at a time. Yet, in all things, Padre Pio was obedient and bore it all patiently. He did not protest or fight for himself. He still was able to build his hospital for the suffering and mentor many spiritual children. He had the gifts of bilocation, healing, and reading of souls.
I sometimes can reach a point where everything irritates me and I want to push away even the good things God gives me. Resentment can and has made me hard hearted at times. I can't see the blessings. I can't feel God near.
But when I am able to focus outward, in prayer or in service to others I can break free. Every week I visit my ex mother in law, Carolyn (we call her Bubba) in the nursing home. She has been good to me since I met her when I was 16 years old and I am devoted to her. She has issues with a Parkinsons like condition, which leave her too weak to walk alone, and sometimes she becomes combative and uncooperative, wanting to get up out of her chair or bed unattended (risking a fall) and crying uncontrollably. Most days she's ok when we visit. Her hair is an issue because she doesn't get it washed enough. She has a hairdresser appointment weekly but she often refuses it. Last week her hair was really bad, I could see how flaky her scalp was, etc. So I took her up to the hairdressers but the lady was not in. So I washed her hair as best I could at the sink, and dried it, and fixed it up for her. It was a messy gross job, but as I did it I felt good. It was good to do something kind, something useful for someone who really needed it. I know it probably felt good to her to have her hair clean but she does not enjoy the process, so that wasn't it. It felt like I was doing the right thing, and it made my heart glad.
Focusing on others, especially those who can't pay you back, is healing. I am working on viewing my aches and pains as something I can offer to God, to give a gift to someone else who can't pay me back. A sacrifice. Isn't it funny how God works like that, that in giving we are healed?
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Monday, October 12, 2015
"Linda the Good"
JMJ
So yesterday, in the Gospel reading was Jesus saying this: "Why do you call me 'good'? No one is good, except God alone." (Mark 10:18) I think about this passage quite a bit.
Most of us think we are pretty "good" people. Most people don't murder or commit violent crimes, most of us are not predatory or out and out psychopaths. So, we rationalize, compared to Hannibal Lecter or Hitler, we are OK.
I've always been "nice." I'm a natural people pleaser, I like it when people around me are comfortable and happy and I will work help that come about. I have held various jobs helping people throughout my life: home health aide/housekeeper, instructor for developmentally disabled people, behavior specialist and mobile therapist with children and stay at home mom/home schooling mom. I have a Master's Degree in Counseling Psychology. I'll talk to just about anyone about just about anything.
But does this mean I'm good?
One time my ex husband, in frustration with me, told me I had an idea of myself as "Linda the Good." My current husband has told me I'm a "sympathetic character." So I think when I disagreed with these people, perhaps I was even wrong or dreadfully wrong about some issue or another regarding them, they referred to this trait of "goodness" in me. My ex said it as a title..."Linda The Good," and my husband referred to the concept more as a perception of others of me.
Both of these observations lead me to examine myself in those terms. Did I really perceive myself as "Linda the Good"?
We all want to put our best face forward. We generally care what others think of us, we want to be seen in a positive light, etc. Usually, if we are honest with ourselves, we have enough insight to know that the mask is just that, a mask. Behind that best face we do not have an interior that is brimming with unicorns and rainbows and unconditional love. We all experience moments of anger and hatred of ourselves and others. We all have thoughts that are sick at times, disordered.
Perhaps in a backlash, some people today revel in "telling it like it is." This usually means being brutally honest about other's behaviors and not our own. When someone is brash and abrasive, they often defend that behavior by waving the flag of "keeping it real." I find it interesting to see memes on the net declaring an unapologetic defense of using profanity as if it's somehow "more real" to speak using the F bomb than it is to not use it. So it seems to be an embracing of the anger, the sick thoughts. I've seen people defending this by asserting that words "only have the hurt we ascribe to them" and to use words like "nigger" or "retard" frequently will take the power away from them. There is also a school of thought that says fantasy somehow diffuses sickness. By letting these visions out and giving voice to them we somehow mitigate their power.
I don't know about all that. It seems like a glorification to me. And now I have to be brutally honest, "telling it like it is" is all too often, in my opinion, used as a license to be a jerk.
I have dark thoughts. I have dark moments. I have moments where anger takes over. And it does not jibe well with my vision of self. So my ex was onto something. If you read the lives of the saints, some very great people of God also had dark moments. St Paul persecuted Christians. David was an adulterer and murderer, yet he was close to God. St Francis was a rich spoiled boy.
The key here to the transformation of those people (and to us all) is Jesus.
One thing that distinguishes a saint is humility. A realization that no matter how mighty one is in this world, we are the lowest of the low before our Lord. And that if left alone to our own devices or to rely simply on our own strength, we will fall into error. Saints understand, in a deep and personal way, who they are in relation to God.
I can play at being good. I can pretend to myself that all my being "nice" means that I am better than others, that I am not in need of help. And therein lies the danger! If I think I am "good" what do I need God for?
Not too long ago, I was in Mass and I heard the Ten Commandments read. As I sat there in the pew, I was convicted in my heart. I realized that in one way or another, I have broken each commandment, either outright or in spirit. Every. Single. One. Yes, even the "You Shall Not Kill" one. I saw in that moment that I had voted for people who were pro choice. I justified this, even after I became pro life myself, by saying that politicians don't really care about that issue---if they did, more would have been done in that area. I still believe that to be true. (I don't have much hope in politics or politicians) But I realized that *I* was complicit. I felt it deeply, too.
So here I am. "Linda the Good" convicted in my heart. A fraud. A sham. Everything I aspire to be I have failed at being. It was a good thing I was at Mass, in front of the Blessed Sacrament because I needed the strength of it at that moment. God gave me insight into myself. I understood, personally, what Jesus meant when he said, "Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone." And He was there for me. He was ready to forgive me.
I know that I am not good. Not even close. Anything I do that might be considered "good" is a result of my simply stepping out of the way and letting God work. He is responsible for every good thing I've ever done or will do. I can do nothing without his help, except make a mess. So I have to keep an interior focus on my heart, to make sure that I keep God front and center. If I don't I might look in the mirror, lose my humility, and believe that it comes from me. God is with me, He holds my hand. As long as I hold on, He can work through me, because God is, indeed, GOOD.
So yesterday, in the Gospel reading was Jesus saying this: "Why do you call me 'good'? No one is good, except God alone." (Mark 10:18) I think about this passage quite a bit.
Most of us think we are pretty "good" people. Most people don't murder or commit violent crimes, most of us are not predatory or out and out psychopaths. So, we rationalize, compared to Hannibal Lecter or Hitler, we are OK.
I've always been "nice." I'm a natural people pleaser, I like it when people around me are comfortable and happy and I will work help that come about. I have held various jobs helping people throughout my life: home health aide/housekeeper, instructor for developmentally disabled people, behavior specialist and mobile therapist with children and stay at home mom/home schooling mom. I have a Master's Degree in Counseling Psychology. I'll talk to just about anyone about just about anything.
But does this mean I'm good?
One time my ex husband, in frustration with me, told me I had an idea of myself as "Linda the Good." My current husband has told me I'm a "sympathetic character." So I think when I disagreed with these people, perhaps I was even wrong or dreadfully wrong about some issue or another regarding them, they referred to this trait of "goodness" in me. My ex said it as a title..."Linda The Good," and my husband referred to the concept more as a perception of others of me.
Both of these observations lead me to examine myself in those terms. Did I really perceive myself as "Linda the Good"?
We all want to put our best face forward. We generally care what others think of us, we want to be seen in a positive light, etc. Usually, if we are honest with ourselves, we have enough insight to know that the mask is just that, a mask. Behind that best face we do not have an interior that is brimming with unicorns and rainbows and unconditional love. We all experience moments of anger and hatred of ourselves and others. We all have thoughts that are sick at times, disordered.
Perhaps in a backlash, some people today revel in "telling it like it is." This usually means being brutally honest about other's behaviors and not our own. When someone is brash and abrasive, they often defend that behavior by waving the flag of "keeping it real." I find it interesting to see memes on the net declaring an unapologetic defense of using profanity as if it's somehow "more real" to speak using the F bomb than it is to not use it. So it seems to be an embracing of the anger, the sick thoughts. I've seen people defending this by asserting that words "only have the hurt we ascribe to them" and to use words like "nigger" or "retard" frequently will take the power away from them. There is also a school of thought that says fantasy somehow diffuses sickness. By letting these visions out and giving voice to them we somehow mitigate their power.
I don't know about all that. It seems like a glorification to me. And now I have to be brutally honest, "telling it like it is" is all too often, in my opinion, used as a license to be a jerk.
I have dark thoughts. I have dark moments. I have moments where anger takes over. And it does not jibe well with my vision of self. So my ex was onto something. If you read the lives of the saints, some very great people of God also had dark moments. St Paul persecuted Christians. David was an adulterer and murderer, yet he was close to God. St Francis was a rich spoiled boy.
The key here to the transformation of those people (and to us all) is Jesus.
One thing that distinguishes a saint is humility. A realization that no matter how mighty one is in this world, we are the lowest of the low before our Lord. And that if left alone to our own devices or to rely simply on our own strength, we will fall into error. Saints understand, in a deep and personal way, who they are in relation to God.
I can play at being good. I can pretend to myself that all my being "nice" means that I am better than others, that I am not in need of help. And therein lies the danger! If I think I am "good" what do I need God for?
Not too long ago, I was in Mass and I heard the Ten Commandments read. As I sat there in the pew, I was convicted in my heart. I realized that in one way or another, I have broken each commandment, either outright or in spirit. Every. Single. One. Yes, even the "You Shall Not Kill" one. I saw in that moment that I had voted for people who were pro choice. I justified this, even after I became pro life myself, by saying that politicians don't really care about that issue---if they did, more would have been done in that area. I still believe that to be true. (I don't have much hope in politics or politicians) But I realized that *I* was complicit. I felt it deeply, too.
So here I am. "Linda the Good" convicted in my heart. A fraud. A sham. Everything I aspire to be I have failed at being. It was a good thing I was at Mass, in front of the Blessed Sacrament because I needed the strength of it at that moment. God gave me insight into myself. I understood, personally, what Jesus meant when he said, "Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone." And He was there for me. He was ready to forgive me.
I know that I am not good. Not even close. Anything I do that might be considered "good" is a result of my simply stepping out of the way and letting God work. He is responsible for every good thing I've ever done or will do. I can do nothing without his help, except make a mess. So I have to keep an interior focus on my heart, to make sure that I keep God front and center. If I don't I might look in the mirror, lose my humility, and believe that it comes from me. God is with me, He holds my hand. As long as I hold on, He can work through me, because God is, indeed, GOOD.
Monday, October 5, 2015
Hang On Little Tomato.
Sometimes life is not on time, or in the place where we think it should be...but it can still be good. I got a small tomato plant someone gave me in July. When I brought it home and planted it in a pot on my deck, my mom (our resident Eeyore ) said, "That will never give you tomatoes. Why are you fooling with it?". I said, "l don't know. Let's see what happens." So it grew and grew. It fell over once in a storm and a couple of large branches got knocked off. My mom again asked, "What are you doing with that tomato plant?" (she's got memory issues.) So I just kept letting it grow. She told me a few days ago, "That plant has tomatoes but they'll never turn red now." Today I picked them, and I made some fried green tomatoes for lunch for us. Mom had some, too. She thought they were good.
I also had a plant coming up next to my driveway, where I'd put some compost for plants around my mailbox. It didn't have great depth of soil there, but I didn't have the heart to pull it. It also contributed a few green tomatoes to our lunch today. The plants thanked me kindly for not tossing them, even though they weren't exactly on time or in the right place.
People can be like that too, and can be a blessing as well, if we allow it.
This post puts me in mind of a song.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bX2Hg4ldMws
Hello and Welcome
Thank you for visiting my blog, In Joyful Hope. I'm a marries mom of four children, ages 25 to 13: Megan, Grace, Paul and Mary. My husband Joe and I live in Southeast Pennsylvania. We are a Catholic family. I'd like to share the ups and downs of parenting and just being a person in the world with someone. I don't know who, if anyone will ever actually read this blog but I guess we'll find out as we go along. I appreciate comments and feedback, discussion, all of that good stuff.
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