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.

Tangled on the Battlefield

Shortly after I posted my entry "Seek Him First," a friend of mine told me she felt the same way, that she doesn't want to settle for less than the best in a relationship. But she also said that even though girls like us refuse to waste our time on a relationship that we know from the beginning won't go anywhere, a part of us still wants to waste that time. Which is so true. We hold onto this dream, but we don't want to settle for less. It's this inward battle we constantly fight with ourselves: the joy of being free versus the dread of being that witch with a b who turned a nice guy down; the freedom in finally being honest about your feelings versus the pain of losing a friend. It is a constant battle between the heart and mind, a tangled mess that no amount of brushing can mend.

When I took my six-year-old sister to see Disney's Tangled in the theater, there were moments when I felt like I was watching scenes from my own life. The film is a sweet and funny adventure story that portrays the tale of Rapunzel as she escapes her tower and ventures forth on a journey of self-discovery. I admit without shame that I loved it as much as (if not more than) my little sister did.

I have always been a sucker for Disney movies, especially its princesses. But unlike other princesses, Rapunzel isn't just a blonde girl trapped in a tower, weak and defenseless, waiting for her prince to save her. She is innocent and naive, but, armed with a frying pan, she takes charge of her destiny. Though she disobeys her "mother" to sneak out of her tower in search of an adventure, she finds herself battling conflicting feelings--the freedom of taking charge and being her own person versus the guilt of hurting her mother, the thrill of chasing after dreams versus the dullness of staying trapped in everyday reality. Fighting this battle and finding the balance is what makes us strong on our own journeys of self-discovery.

When Rapunzel breaks down the walls around her, she is able to discover more about the world and about herself. Her trust in the goodness of humanity and her refusal to express any fear inspires courage for the fight for good all around her, including in her thief escort, Flynn Rider. Her desire to be more and to have more than the confined space of her tower prison sent her on a journey in search of herself, and along the way she also finds love. The end of the film portrays not so much a happily ever after as it does the beginning of a new adventure, the search of a new dream.

This year I am breaking down the walls of "what ifs" and the feelings and fears that have held me back in the past. I am breaking free from these tangled chains and setting on a journey to find more and to be more than the damsel in distress I once was.

Little flowers need rain as much as sunshine.

Crushes are so irritating. These thorns in your side sneak up on you when you least suspect it and there's often nothing you can do to stop thinking about that certain guy. Even in my twenties, I fall back into this vicious cycle of wondering about guys who are practically strangers: "Could this cute, holy guy be the One?" I pray and beg God to take these obnoxious thoughts away. Why do I keep thinking about a guy whose name I don't even know? Seriously. It's ridiculous.

Or is it? I often fall for guys and they distract me, making me lose my focus. But they certainly make me pray more! And looking back, God has used this weakness of mine in huge ways to bring me closer to Him, to teach me about myself, and even to show me His will. From these thorns bloom the most beautiful roses.

One of my household sisters texted me this passage yesterday:

"And to keep me from being too elated by the abundance of revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan, to harass me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it should leave me; but he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." I will all the more gladly boast of my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities; for when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Corinthians 12:7-10

St. Therese talks about this a lot, about our weaknesses being good in that they bring us closer to God. If we had no weaknesses, we would have no need of Him. But weakness causes us to rely on Him and increases our trust in Him. He uses this trust to perform miracles, to move mountains in the hearts of men. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, crushes, separations, and loneliness; for when I am weak, then I am strong. I admit I still haven't found a way to get rid of silly crushes, but as I think my silly thoughts, I look to God and tell Him I can't do it alone. He usually shines some light on the situation, allowing me a small revelation that teaches me to love better. Eventually I get over it and life goes on, a little bit more joyful than before. I am also a little bit more me than before.

His grace falls like rain to make the little flowers grow.