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What hubris have I

It is not fun to be in a "dry" place spiritually. You find yourself saying, not praying, prayers a lot, but you keep at it. You do all the things you are supposed to do: keep close to the sacraments, do good works, pray, read the saints. Yet, there is no consolation.

That is, you don't "feel" good about your faith. You don't, in fact, "feel" much of anything. There is not a closeness to God that gives comfort, a joy from your faith that gives courage and vitality. There is no drink of water to quench the powerful thirst you have for Christ.

I've been in this place for awhile. I'm sort of used to it, and I just try to trudge along as best I can. However, this past weekend, I REALLY wanted to feel something. I REALLY wanted a little bit of joy, of inspiration, of comfort. Where better at the Easter Vigil Mass or the Easter Sunday Mass? And so I prayed for just that. I prayed that God would grant me just a bit of joy, a bit of comfort, a bit of consolation.

Somewhere in the midst of Mass on Sunday, I thought to myself, "What hubris! Who the heck do I think I am, asking God for this? Surely, God knows what He is about, and there is some reason why I am where I am." And I stopped praying those prayers.

 He found them in a wilderness,
a wasteland of howling desert.
He shielded them, cared for them,
guarded them as the apple of his eye,
Dt. 32:10


Comments

  1. this was my Advent prayer...very fruitful meditation!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you! Appreciate the feedback.

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I saw you
today
as you guided
your little man across that busy street.

You were wearing some
big man boots
and
watching cars and lights.

Your little man had on
black sneakers and
a Mickey Mouse hat
that bounced
as he walked.

He wasn't watching nothing but
your big man boots
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the white stripes of the crosswalk.

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he got to the sidewalk again,
his step bounced a bit
- he hopped over
a spot where the asphalt broke.

You turned to look,
holding out a hand to
your little man.
Not rushed or angry,
just making sure
he got up
on that sidewalk.

Then you walked on,
in your big man boots,
face into a cold Michigan wind,
with the little man behind,
his hat bouncing.