It has been a few weeks since my last post. I wish I had a computer plug that could attach straight to my brain because I have been writing blog posts in my head during this last bit of time and have had the hardest time sitting down to type all these thoughts out.
With the Easter Triduum upon us my thoughts are constantly going to Jesus' last days and hours. The end of Lent is near and I am not going to lie, I am ready for the Glory. I know that sounds selfish but this has been a long and hard Lent. I think I will call it the "Lent of Avoidance." Lent is a time (among many things) to let the Lord weed through our heart and uproot bad habits, selfishness, and to clear things out so to speak so we can be prepared for the glory that Easter brings. But this Lent I have been more like a petulant child than a mature woman standing before the Lord. I have been saying things like, "Go away" rather than "Come on in."
I think it is a natural thing after someone dies to close up a bit and rely on distractions to help function but I have to laugh at the persistence of our Lord because He knows how stubborn I can be and yet I know he won't give up until I let Him have what I don't want to see or feel.
But Easter is not here yet and we still have to walk through these last days before we can say the beautiful "A" word! I have been thinking a lot in particular about Jesus' time at the Mount of Olives. For me at least, it shows how human Jesus truly was. How much he struggled, how he was afraid, and sad.
Luke 22: 42, 44 saying, "Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me; still, not my will but yours be done...(He was in such agony and he prayed so fervently that his sweat became like drops of blood falling on the ground).
Thinking of Jesus' death I can't help but think of Dad's. And no I am not comparing my Dad to Jesus so before I end up on some crazy blog saying that David Thorp's daughter thinks her Dad is Jesus or something of that nature. But Jesus was human and my Dad was human so in that sense yes, they are the same. Jesus is and was the same as us. He had the same struggles, fears, and joys. He understands and He knows because He was just like us. Thank you Dad for helping me appreciate and start to understand this amazing truth!
I do believe that Dad's final moments were really tough ones. Thinking about those last breath's is really hard and yet some days I find myself obsessively thinking about them. I say to myself, "stop" but I can't -- almost like picking at a scab when you know you need to let it be.
I don't know what Dad said or did during those moments but when I close my eyes and think about it I think immediately to the criminal asking for mercy next to Jesus on the cross. I don't think my Dad was a vicious criminal, he was the opposite but I think we can all be that criminal asking for Christ's mercy. I pray that on my dying day I will have the same courage and humility.
Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom. Luke 23: 42
I think of Dad asking for the very same thing and the Lord responding by carrying his soul up into Paradise.
Dad wrote this little prayer at the bottom of a reflection a few years back:
"Eucharistic Lord, catch us up into the wonder of your sacrifice that transcends all time."
I pray that you too will be caught up in that same wonder, as I will
be -- filled with gratitude and joy for a Lord that loves us beyond all measure.
Amen. "A" word!
ReplyDeletePraise God for the courage you have shown in the last two blogs. I have
difficulty responding because it's too close to home and I try not to be
public with my emotions. Lent of Avoidance indeed!
When I am really still (not often enough), I still can't think of your dad
without tearing up. But it's not for him because, like you, I know he is now free of pain and doubt and that he is with Jesus whom he steadfastly
worshipped, adored and tried so hard to emulate while he was alive. The
tears are for me and you, your mom, Nick, Gabi, Uncle Mark and all those who mourn not having him with us.
At my most recent spiritual direction session, our director played a song by Liam Lawton in which the refrain was:
Who will come and share my sorrow,
Hold my heart 'til wake tomorrow?
Is there time that I could borrow?
Oh, oh, the silence and the sorrow.
When I heard that I realized it was the silence that was the hardest. I
wasn’t mourning your dad’s death because can you imagine the Easter he’s going to have this year – the Glory indeed! - but I was mourning my & your loss, but mostly mine. And it hurts.
Last night I was reading something on the Suffering Servant Songs of Isaiah in preparation for proclaiming the first reading on Good Friday. Part of what was written had to do with not being in control and how much we, especially in North America, hate not being in control. It went on “the origin of so much stress and so much emotional suffering is the refusal to accept what is out of our control, namely, what life is presenting us right now.” The author (Dr. Robert Miller of Catholic Distance University) referred to an encyclical (Paenitentiam Agere) by Blessed John XXIII (one of my heroes) written in 1962 in which he defined penance as “accepting from God with a resigned and trusting spirit, all the sorrows...inconveniences...of our condition in our daily life.” The author continued that we have to renounce our need to be in control and instead surrender to God with confident faith. He further wrote : “When Jesus says, “Deny yourself,” it doesn’t mean giving up candy for Lent! It means giving up every claim to our own will, every assertion of independence, every ounce of self-sufficiency – the total opposite, clearly, of the (North) American Way.” This is what Jesus ultimately did in Gethsemane.
My spiritual director urged me this month to pray for self-acceptance. I
now understand that she was saying to accept that what was happening to me as a result of your dad’s death was part of life but that it was beyond my control. I need to trust that God is in it. This morning, in quiet and still time, I realized that when Jesus said he came that we might have life and have it to the full, he was talking about all aspects of life. There will be happy times and there will be sad times. There will be easy times and there will be difficult times. Life to the full includes it all. Then I thought that when the going gets tough, the tough get going and slog through it. But then I remembered that Jesus also calls us to come to him when we are heavily burdened and he will give us rest and that if we hook up with him (taking his yoke), he will slog right along with us and if we give up our rugged individualism, our total self-reliance and accept the help offered the slogging will not be quite so hard. And, by the way, Jesus comes in many disguises – mother, brother, sister, spouse, children, friends, uncles, aunts, little Filipino men, complete strangers.
I just remembered what your dad used to remind Ted after every Scripture session – “Come back next week. Stick with Jesus.” Good advice.
Happy Holy Week!