If You Would Come Back Home

This past weekend I had the opportunity to visit my alma mater. Though I was only a student there about eight months ago, it feels like a lifetime ago. As I sat in mass over the weekend I looked around and realized that I recognized only a handful of faces. The other hundreds were new, yet very much the same as the ones I knew there. It was as if everything had changed, yet also as if nothing had changed at all. Or maybe it was just that I had changed.

In the reunions I had with friends, in the beauty of the mass, in the buildings I called 'home' for four years I found myself again this weekend. For months now I have felt so stuck and stifled, so lost at home. It has less to do with living at home and working at the same job I've had since I was fifteen and more to do with a sick feeling that I had left a part of myself back at school. In all of the experiences I had in my four years at college, I did a lot of growing up and self-discovering. I began to really become me. But then I grew comfortable, bored. I stopped stretching myself and challenging myself to do more. I found my comfort zone and I stayed there, collecting dust, branching out only when absolutely necessary. By the time I realized what I had done, I tried to break free and get on with my life, but I found that I had forgotten who I was, and who I was becoming. I had forgotten where I came from.

In the past few months, I've been able to see that my parents planted all kinds of seeds of faith in me, but it wasn't until I reached Franciscan and chose to let God nurture them that they really began to bloom. Then when there were so many distractions around me, I tried to ask Him to stop. I told Him that I had had enough growing, that I was content to just stick with what I had. It's like asking the surgeon to stop stitching you up when he's only partially finished: "I can take it from here," you might slur under the anesthesia. Then you'd get up from the table with a gushing, gaping wound in your side, stumble and fall to floor. That is basically what I did.

I think all I really wanted was more time. I wanted more time with my friends, one more round of bowling, one more late night study party at Tim Horton's, one more adventure in the city. This weekend, I didn't exactly get what I would consider my dying wish, but it was definitely my living wish. I wanted to reconnect with the 'home' where I made so many mistakes, where I did not do perhaps as much as I could or should have done to prepare for my future. The place where I realized that my parents are wonderful, but they are only human. The place where I realized that love is not as simple as it seems. The place where I glimpsed all I could be and I tried to hide from it.

I went back to that place. Jesus came into my heart in the Eucharist, Mary held my hand as I walked down memory lane, the Holy Spirit moved in me to forgive and let go of the lingering hurts and regrets. When I drove away from campus yesterday, I was suddenly whole again. I felt complete. Even in the polluted air along the Ohio River, I breathed easier than I had in years. Suddenly, I was back where I left off in my becoming process, almost as if nothing had ever happened to disrupt it. Except that now there was a mysterious, incredible strength inside me that I had not known I could possess. I know that strength comes from God alone. I am certain that even when I was that stubborn patient lying weakly on the floor, oblivious to everything except my own pain, He was mending the pieces with such a gentle hand that I could not feel it.

But I felt it yesterday. I felt it like a warmth all the way through me, a light that I had not seen before, a strength and determination that I had never known. When I pulled into my parents' driveway yesterday, I think I truly came home for the first time. It's good to be back.

Get Your Love

As I walked down the street in my neighborhood about a week ago, the same street my family has lived on for 18 years, I saw it as if for the first time. The sapphire sky seemed to glitter in between the leaves as they waved crisply in the breeze. The golden autumn sun sent out its warm rays to light the branches, some still covered in green, others golden yellow, fiery red, and burnt orange. The breath of God was all around me, the beauty of the touch of His paintbrush all before me, the gentle strength of His hands beneath my feet. I heard that song from my youth in a faint whispering on the wind, "He's got the whole world in His Hands..." Following the strings of the youthful melody came a song from a more recent era: "I think I made You too small. I never feared You at all...What do I know of You, who spoke me into motion...What do I know of Holy?..."

It was then I felt it, the comfort in the knowledge that He has us in His hands. The whole world. We can look up at the domed sapphire sky as He looks down. We can smile into the sun as He smiles down at us. We can feel His breath on our faces in the wind. We walk with Him and He serenades us with the Spirit of Love He has breathed into all of His creation. It's beautiful really, to think that He spoke the earth into motion, that He breathed life into Adam. The breath of God's Love is the source of all life!

There is nothing and no one greater than our God. When I find that I make Him too small by letting thoughts of myself get in the way of love, or by letting my own pride get in the way of kindness, He finds a way to humble me. I have now made it a habit to take moments throughout the day to glance at the sky and smile up at our loving Creator. It certainly helps me to recognize my littleness in this big world! St. Therese wrote, "Jesus is content with a tender look or a sigh of love." He does not want our mindless recitation of old prayers as much as He wants our love, however we find a way to express this love, as long as it is true and from the heart.

It seems that what we ought to do then is let His love radiate through us, let it fill us to the point of overflowing so that every breath we take and every move we make is for love of Him. It is important then to treat the people around us, even the ones we would normally avoid because of their behavior or their appearance, with the respect and the love we have for God. The same breath of love gives each life the same dignity. Once we recognize this, once we come to God and accept His gift, we must help others see it as well. As my six-year-old sister says, "Get your love." Then breathe it in, breathe it out, and come alive again!

The Return of Love: An Easter Challenge

He is risen! Alleluia!

When Jesus carried all of our heartache and all of our pain up Calvary, it died with Him. Now when we go to open up that corner of our hearts, it is empty! He has rolled away the stone, melting the winter of the heart into springtime, and He wants to make a new creation in us.

Easter is the perfect time for a renewal of the spirit. If a ball dropping in New York City in the middle of winter (when all you want to do is sleep and eat all the things you promised yourself you wouldn't eat anymore) isn't enough incentive for you to make resolutions, try Easter! Everything is fresh, new, clean. "He was pierced for our transgressions, and by His wounds we are healed." His wounds have healed you, His blood has purified you and made you clean. Now Christ has risen from the grave to bring you into glory with Him.

This Easter season, I challenge you to make new resolutions: weed the garden in your heart. Pull out the things in your life that are leading you to sin, or keeping you from loving as you should. Whether it be an inappropriate TV show that you're hooked on, the music you love that has a great beat but explicit lyrics, or just a bad habit that you can't seem to stop, take out the impurities that keep you from Him. It will be difficult, especially when society is trying to convince you there's nothing wrong with it. But with Him, all things are possible--He will give you the graces you need! All you have to do is choose Him, choose love! Weed your garden so that the seeds God has planted will have plenty of room to bloom.

I mean seriously, He really didn't want to go through all that suffering. He knelt in the garden of Gethsemane (sweating blood!) and begged the Father to take the task from Him. But He knew it was the only way to save us. So He did it: because He loves us. All He wants is for us to return His love, but He calls us each to love in different ways. How is He calling you to love?

He is calling me to love (if you couldn't guess by the examples) by asking me to detach myself from some of my favorite TV shows (I hadn't even realized how many I watched!) and some of the music I listen to. I realized that they do not in any way glorify Him, and actually make a mockery of the things He holds sacred (sex, love, etc.). They all tell lies, denying His Truth--no matter how much I might want to break down and dance! These have been difficult to give up, but He pulls me through, giving me the grace (and even the desire!) to keep my eyes on heaven. Whenever I begin to fall away from Him, I see an image of the Eucharist--His Bleeding Heart. It helps me in my resolve to be a victim of love. Then, rather than channel vulgar sitcom jokes and song lyrics through me, He can channel His Love! What joy!

May the joy of the risen Christ fill your heart, and may your Easter be filled with peace and blessings!