Dodge Ball ...

Have you ever worried and fretted over something to the point of distraction? Maybe instead of asking “have you ever”, I should more accurately ask “when was the last time you fretted over something to the point of distraction? I would wager a bet that all of us, if we are being honest, would not go much further out than a week or so. In our busy work and home lives, it seems there is always plenty of reason for worry … great or small.

I recently have worried quite a bit over leaving my home church of over 20 years. The rug was pulled out from under me, and my soft spot to fall is no longer available to me. This Lenten season, I have spent a lot of time pondering, praying, and searching for a new connection, someplace I fit.

When times of worry arrive, I like to play “Dodge Ball With The Devil.” As we are told, “let go, and let God.” But how many times do we truly let go and let God? It seems we always take it back. Thus … “Dodge Ball With The Devil.”

Who among us hasn’t played dodge ball with our friends on the school playground? I remember taking turns on who was going to get the ball first. Then the others lined up against a brick wall … hopefully without windows! The person with the ball starts to toss the ball at friends against the wall, and if you get hit, then you take the ball and try to hit another person who then takes your place. And the rotation continues.

So when you play “Dodge Ball With The Devil” you give God your concerns. However, often the devil may try to get you to take them back. He tosses these issues your way, very slyly he tries to hit you, look to the left, to the right, move quickly and dodge, dodge, dodge … just don’t let him get you! Each time you dodge what the devil throws your way, God grasps these issues in His strong, loving arms, and handles them His way in His time. When we try to take control and take back what we have given to God, in essence we have let the devil fire them at us and strike us. Be steadfast and dodge, dodge, dodge … Let Go and Let God!

Roamin'...

I have recently and quite appropriately been called a “Roamin’ Catholic.” I suppose this is indeed a proper title. After having spent almost 20 years at a specific church and very involved with the choir, prayer committee, and often other activities, I have left my church. I have left my home, my soft spot to fall.

I am now, this Lenten season, on my personal journey to find a “new home.” I have taken with me on this journey, the pain that has followed from my previous home. But I know with God’s helpful hand and his miraculous direction, I will indeed find a new home. I share the words below from a song recently sung during a Sunday liturgy. It is by Whitaker, entitled "In Every Age". They speak to me …

Long before the mountains came to be and the land and sea and starts of the night,
Through the endless seasons of all time, you have always been, you will always be.

In every age, O God, you have been our refuge.
In every age, O God, you have been our hope.

Destiny is cast, and at your silent word we return to dust and scatter to the wind.
A thousand years are like a single moment gone,
As the light that fades at the end of the day.

In every age, O God, you have been our refuge.
In every age, O God, you have been our hope.

Teach us to make use of the time we have. Teach us to be patient even as we wait.
Teach us to embrace our every joy and pain,
To sleep peacefully, and to rise strong.

God, you have been our hope, you have been our refuge,
You have been our hope.

During this same liturgy, I was feeling quite alone. I looked around and didn’t see anyone I knew, which was new to me, having been so long with my previous church and knowing so many of the special people in the community. But then the hand of God did reach out to me. At the “sign of peace” a tradition during a Catholic Mass, I heard behind me a voice that said, “Sharon!” I turned and it was a former member of my other church, smiling from ear to ear, and she blew me a kiss. My little piece of home had followed me. I admit I wept with the softness I felt. Dinner followed Mass that evening, and a renewal of an old friendship made new.

In every age, O God, you have been our refuge. In every age, O God, you have been our hope.

Forward ...

Pedro Arrupe, SJ, was the 28th Superior General of the Society of Jesus, leading the Society in the realities of serving the Church and people in the post-Vatican II world. Arrupe was a man of great spiritual depth who was committed to justice. He writes, “Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in a love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you will do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything.”

This Wednesday, March 5, 2014, is Ash Wednesday. And, so we start another Holy season of Lent. As a cradle Catholic, this season within the liturgical calendar of the Roman Catholic Church, has always been a time of melancholy and thought for me. I usually feel pangs of inadequacy during Lent for having not “given up” the right thing, praying as much as I should, giving alms as I should, and not “doing” enough good deeds as I should. This year, however I have an even larger challenge. I have left my church. I have left my soft spot to fall. I have left my home. For reasons too painful and too complicated to put to paper, I have left my church.

So this Lent, I start my journey to find a connection again within a church. I need to often remind myself that not “being” in a specific church does not change my relationship with God. In fact, I have turned to Him more in the last several weeks during this painful journey. I go forward with quiet resolve to find my “spot.” I don’t know how long it will take, or if I will ever find a new home in church. It is so hard when what I had before was so calming to me. But the main task is to go forward.

I know I will stumble and fall on this journey. But if my resolve is to keep my eyes fixed to His power and glory, I know that when I fall, my frail hand will be taken by Him with a gentle pull. The blessed pull to move forward. Saint Mother Theodore Guerrin has stated, “We do not know whether we have a long time to live or not. It might be that this year will be the last God will give us to work for Him and to prove to Him our love.” Oh, my urgency of moving forward