Something caught my attention one Sunday morning at Mass, and I found myself seeing a little more into a moment, as I am wont to do. My sightline during the consecration passed through two friends praying together as a couple. And I cannot stress how significant I say "as a couple."
As the Mass is the representation of His Sacrifice at Calvary, I have seen before St. John and the Blessed Mother at the Cross before as in a historical flash of vision. However, here, I had seen something unique to this graced view to extrapolate it to something equally relevant: to seeing it in our times. All of this, as though it is dramatizing the Word given to us and giving us a dramatization of Gospel through the representation of the Mass.
As I mentioned, "as a couple" for me brings a significance to this grace I was given to see. For in this grace, they were an unwitting witness to hope. And, though they might not have understood the personal significance of this to me, my gratitude for this moment is present even until now.
Furthermore, the scene even now speaks of something greater being intertwined in a synergy I cannot even fathom to fully describe on earth. Yet, this has a great significance, because even as the priest is in persona Christi, we are inasmuch "in persona" to others as well, and this is certainly very good.
Indeed, we can say "Lord, it is very good to be here"... and say we ought to set a tent here and never leave. Yet, we do leave... not out of lack of love but because of an even deeper love! And again, I rest on those words "as a couple" because it is important to see it not as a degradation of a better gift, but a unique one in itself to reflect His love "in persona" in other, but no less valuable, ways—through, with and in His Sacred Heart.
That grace given me is, in part, a prayer for both of them on their journey ahead. I pray that His grace remains present ahead, even in the struggle as much as the strength of building together a new life as one.
As iron sharpens iron, I pray for unceasingly for the blessed race ahead. It makes an unspoken "Yes" more present through a witness that is a reflection of the Eternal. Deo gratias.
Showing posts with label St. Mary's. Show all posts
Showing posts with label St. Mary's. Show all posts
Friday, June 24, 2011
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Home
Whether fractured or new,
What makes a home a home
Is the love found in you,
And what love is there in another!
Home, gift of place and of hearth—
Special memories, a family to start—
Yet not just family but self in other
And other in self.
Home, blessed home, where life starts,
Sacred space, sanctified with new life.
Life nurtured from womb to heart
And heart to vocation,
Nursery of the Faith of the Ages!
Blessings are found even if far,
Far from where the love starts,
Found in distance and nearness,
Found with love and generosity of self.
Gift of self gives a home its start,
But more is needed for the flame to keep its warmth,
Fuel for the sacrifice of self in other
And other in self, kindling for the beautiful warmth of the Light.
The Wood of the sacrifice must be center
For the blessings of joy and of mercy to enter,
But more—much more—burning hearts desire
Not of own but all of other than self,
Of other in Christ.
Love shapes the way
To heart and home,
To the warmth of the Light,
And guides one's way back home.
Within it though wistful,
Memory's joys play sight
And in them a warmth of heart
Brings back to mind Love Divine, our soul's delight.
Home finds its way,
To hearts our very own,
Not simply for a longing, of where we've been this day
And before—but for places where we yet go.
For even since our first day we have known
This place, our true place—
Heaven, this is our true Home.
Let us return Home.
What makes a home a home
Is the love found in you,
And what love is there in another!
Home, gift of place and of hearth—
Special memories, a family to start—
Yet not just family but self in other
And other in self.
Home, blessed home, where life starts,
Sacred space, sanctified with new life.
Life nurtured from womb to heart
And heart to vocation,
Nursery of the Faith of the Ages!
Blessings are found even if far,
Far from where the love starts,
Found in distance and nearness,
Found with love and generosity of self.
Gift of self gives a home its start,
But more is needed for the flame to keep its warmth,
Fuel for the sacrifice of self in other
And other in self, kindling for the beautiful warmth of the Light.
The Wood of the sacrifice must be center
For the blessings of joy and of mercy to enter,
But more—much more—burning hearts desire
Not of own but all of other than self,
Of other in Christ.
Love shapes the way
To heart and home,
To the warmth of the Light,
And guides one's way back home.
Within it though wistful,
Memory's joys play sight
And in them a warmth of heart
Brings back to mind Love Divine, our soul's delight.
Home finds its way,
To hearts our very own,
Not simply for a longing, of where we've been this day
And before—but for places where we yet go.
For even since our first day we have known
This place, our true place—
Heaven, this is our true Home.
Let us return Home.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Conclusion
I have reached a conclusion in an important point in my life. The lovesick spell that was cast last fall has fallen. My poem The Garden has found its conclusion.
The words I've written this past year I do not wished burned, buried, or forgotten. They are a part of me through and through. My heart is still there remaining silent in those words, but they do not define me—not the whole of me. However, today has been a rainstorm. I have felt the rains pouring down and washing away the past and the chains of the past. Today was what today needed to be and even more. God has certainly provided for me greatly today, much like the waters flowing from the southern side of the temple provided for the fruit trees in the passage from Ezekiel 47. What's even more interesting is a song I heard this evening covered by Norah Jones for the album Higher Ground called I Think It's Going to Rain Today:
Those words and the chords of music certainly spoke to me, and it confirmed what I felt in my heart. They were chords of hope and consolation. There was no doubt in my mind that I needed to hear that song because human kindness is indeed overflowing. Praise be to God!
I am not lost. The love that I felt was not for naught, nor was the pain I felt. It was all for the future, a future of unexpected glory. What that future will entail is unknown to me and known only to God, but I am thankful nevertheless for I have not lost a friend.
I have reread many of the words I have posted here in the past year and a month. There is plenty of pain to be read in those words, plenty of anguish and sadness indeed. However, interwoven amid all the struggle is a persistent chord of joy. Yes, there is joy in those words, and reading those words this day makes the chord even more present for me. The words written have been fulfilled. The spoken and unspoken petitions for mercy in the poems of Standing Next to You, My Friend, The Painter, The Garden, Take This Cup Away from Me, and others all have been met and exceeded.
So what occurred when I let the words be said openly? Peace and understanding. This is God's personal unveiling of Christ to me right now. This has been most assuredly a personal mini-apocalypse within my life, a reconversion of my heart to holiness, more complete holiness. How far have I come from a mere five years ago! Praise be to God!
Finally, let me share a poem I have completed this evening, which I have been kicking around for a month or so, to close my Shattered Dreams anthology. It seemed to be a fitting end to a glorious exploration of others and my own inner self. This experience has been an amazing journey that I am glad to reach the conclusion of and do so also in joy and happiness overflowing. The poem is partly inspired from Ezekiel 47:
I will be gone for Advent as a sort of symbolic journey like that of John the Baptist while I regain my bearings for the new year ahead. What a glorious end to the year this has been! It has been worth all the pain and trouble, and I look forward to new beginnings ahead.
Through Christ I am victorious this day. I pray that every day's end is just like this one has—in the peace of Christ.
The words I've written this past year I do not wished burned, buried, or forgotten. They are a part of me through and through. My heart is still there remaining silent in those words, but they do not define me—not the whole of me. However, today has been a rainstorm. I have felt the rains pouring down and washing away the past and the chains of the past. Today was what today needed to be and even more. God has certainly provided for me greatly today, much like the waters flowing from the southern side of the temple provided for the fruit trees in the passage from Ezekiel 47. What's even more interesting is a song I heard this evening covered by Norah Jones for the album Higher Ground called I Think It's Going to Rain Today:
Broken windows and empty hallways,
a pale dead moon in a sky streaked with gray.
Human kindness is overflowing,
and I think it's gonna rain today.
Scarecrows dressed in the latest styles,
the frozen smiles to chase love away.
Human kindness is overflowing,
and I think it's gonna rain today.
Lonely, lonely.
Tin can at my feet,
I think I'll kick it down the street.
That's the way to treat a friend.
Bright before me the signs implore me:
Help the needy and show them the way.
Human kindness is overflowing,
and I think it's gonna rain today.
Lonely, so lonely.
Tin can at my feet,
I think I'll kick it down the street.
That's the way to treat a friend.
Bright before me the signs implore me:
Help the needy and show them the way.
Human kindness is overflowing,
and I think it's gonna rain today.
Those words and the chords of music certainly spoke to me, and it confirmed what I felt in my heart. They were chords of hope and consolation. There was no doubt in my mind that I needed to hear that song because human kindness is indeed overflowing. Praise be to God!
I am not lost. The love that I felt was not for naught, nor was the pain I felt. It was all for the future, a future of unexpected glory. What that future will entail is unknown to me and known only to God, but I am thankful nevertheless for I have not lost a friend.
I have reread many of the words I have posted here in the past year and a month. There is plenty of pain to be read in those words, plenty of anguish and sadness indeed. However, interwoven amid all the struggle is a persistent chord of joy. Yes, there is joy in those words, and reading those words this day makes the chord even more present for me. The words written have been fulfilled. The spoken and unspoken petitions for mercy in the poems of Standing Next to You, My Friend, The Painter, The Garden, Take This Cup Away from Me, and others all have been met and exceeded.
So what occurred when I let the words be said openly? Peace and understanding. This is God's personal unveiling of Christ to me right now. This has been most assuredly a personal mini-apocalypse within my life, a reconversion of my heart to holiness, more complete holiness. How far have I come from a mere five years ago! Praise be to God!
Finally, let me share a poem I have completed this evening, which I have been kicking around for a month or so, to close my Shattered Dreams anthology. It seemed to be a fitting end to a glorious exploration of others and my own inner self. This experience has been an amazing journey that I am glad to reach the conclusion of and do so also in joy and happiness overflowing. The poem is partly inspired from Ezekiel 47:
The Walled Garden
The bells toll;
The vine grows.
The water flows
From the south wall
And sustains the soul.
The walls are thick,
Cold and defending,
The gray, rough bricks
Hide the walled world within
With grace n’er bending.
The saving waters are falling,
Soaking the parched ground
Where fruit-laden trees are found.
Off the thick walls the sound reverberates;
To the whole world the waters are calling.
From all the garden’s walls
Mighty vines hang from above.
No disease or pest can do any harm
To any of the vine’s branches at all.
They testify to the Creator’s love.
The bells ring out God’s glory,
Calling all back to the garden
To recall God’s n’er-ending love story.
Joyful is the bells' sound
As the ringing repeats again.
His love endures forever,
And great is His Name.
His love endures forever,
And we’ll n’er again be the same.
I will be gone for Advent as a sort of symbolic journey like that of John the Baptist while I regain my bearings for the new year ahead. What a glorious end to the year this has been! It has been worth all the pain and trouble, and I look forward to new beginnings ahead.
Through Christ I am victorious this day. I pray that every day's end is just like this one has—in the peace of Christ.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
My Lord and My God!
The classes continue to spiral, but things will survive. The relationships are stagnant, but they will survive. The future is clouded, but it will remain. Nothing is impossible with God, and I am firm in my path with Him. What wonders are there to be seen if only watched closely enough.
I think this has been the problem for me the past few semesters, but especially with this one. I am rushing to the finish line and not paying enough attention to the present. No matter how strong I am, I cannot change something unmovable. I must work within to work without what and who I love.
This past weekend was the PAX (Pursuing After Christ) Retreat in Caldwell, Texas. I wasn't sure what to expect, or what to want to take away from it. However, God did provide in ways so wonderful and unexpected. A friend who went on the retreat, David, put it best as his hope was to have a "scheduled escape." I love that phrase. We often are too "busy" to have a scheduled escape. We work ourselves to death or drive ourselves senseless trying to achieve an unachievable goal. The great adage of "everything in moderation" is so fitting here. So it was a wonderful scheduled escape, but it was also much more than that.
There were sixteen of us on the retreat, so it was a very personal retreat, one filled with free time to contemplate. It wasn't a busy-bee retreat, ones that I'm so accustomed to. It was very much a thinking retreat. Not on the rat race of life, but more of finding tools to apply in the havoc that tends to be at least my life.
Bishop Fulton J. Sheen once said: "There are two ways of waking up in the morning. One is to say, 'Good morning, God,' and the other is to say, 'Good God, morning!'"[1, 2] I think we should remind ourselves to wake up the first way and not the second.
The retreat this past weekend was more than a retreat. It was an awakening of my soul down to its deepest parts, one that shook me, one that turned me over with a deepening so great, so powerful that it will stay with me ever more. It was a conversion so amazing and so piercing into my heart that I know I did not believe before in Him so fervently as I do now.
So, I wish to share with you some words I quickly wrote from that evening. I was so moved in the meditation and contemplation on the Gospel passage from John 20. What it came to be was that conversion of the heart, to making things new. These words below cannot but only attempt in describing what kind of experience found within that hour of adoration, the piercing flashes of light with desolation and a swelling of consolation from God. It was an experience so strong I've never felt before, but I know that it was placed before me for a reason, and I must carry on as the mountaintop visit has gone away again:
I think this has been the problem for me the past few semesters, but especially with this one. I am rushing to the finish line and not paying enough attention to the present. No matter how strong I am, I cannot change something unmovable. I must work within to work without what and who I love.
This past weekend was the PAX (Pursuing After Christ) Retreat in Caldwell, Texas. I wasn't sure what to expect, or what to want to take away from it. However, God did provide in ways so wonderful and unexpected. A friend who went on the retreat, David, put it best as his hope was to have a "scheduled escape." I love that phrase. We often are too "busy" to have a scheduled escape. We work ourselves to death or drive ourselves senseless trying to achieve an unachievable goal. The great adage of "everything in moderation" is so fitting here. So it was a wonderful scheduled escape, but it was also much more than that.
There were sixteen of us on the retreat, so it was a very personal retreat, one filled with free time to contemplate. It wasn't a busy-bee retreat, ones that I'm so accustomed to. It was very much a thinking retreat. Not on the rat race of life, but more of finding tools to apply in the havoc that tends to be at least my life.
Bishop Fulton J. Sheen once said: "There are two ways of waking up in the morning. One is to say, 'Good morning, God,' and the other is to say, 'Good God, morning!'"[1, 2] I think we should remind ourselves to wake up the first way and not the second.
The retreat this past weekend was more than a retreat. It was an awakening of my soul down to its deepest parts, one that shook me, one that turned me over with a deepening so great, so powerful that it will stay with me ever more. It was a conversion so amazing and so piercing into my heart that I know I did not believe before in Him so fervently as I do now.
So, I wish to share with you some words I quickly wrote from that evening. I was so moved in the meditation and contemplation on the Gospel passage from John 20. What it came to be was that conversion of the heart, to making things new. These words below cannot but only attempt in describing what kind of experience found within that hour of adoration, the piercing flashes of light with desolation and a swelling of consolation from God. It was an experience so strong I've never felt before, but I know that it was placed before me for a reason, and I must carry on as the mountaintop visit has gone away again:
The Canticle
How do I describe this experience I have been thrust into?
How do I compare it to any other experience in which I have ever felt or borne in my experience?
How can I doubt the Lord any further?
How can I not love Him as I know now?
What grace has been given to me!
What love has indwelled in me!
What caress of the heart have I felt!
My heart has seen the Lord. It has walked in His presence, His True Presence in all His Glory. His hand has calmed my nervous heart. His mercy has washed over me with all compassion this world can provide. His Light has filled my heart. It has graced me with a brightness so blinding. It has filled me completely.
With all my heart shall I continue to praise you, O God, in the name of the Father and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
With all my heart shall I sing of the Lord. I will proclaim from the depths to the heights of every land. I will speak the Word of Truth to all the lands all the days of my life. Amen.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Thy Will Be Done: Going the Distance
There are a few things I feel most compelled to write about this evening after Awakening. It is certain there is always a spiritual high after events such as these, but today's was distinctly different I quickly realized while reflecting during my drive back to Austin afterwards.
I am convinced of myself that this feeling is new to all eight other times before. This is a time of rebirth in my life. It is about seeing the world from a larger perspective all the time and also seeing it at the most personal of levels. It's about reflecting on past relationships—of faults brought to them and of faults taken away from them. It's also about setting new resolutions and commitments that have outgrown the original that were grown within me and taking those another step further. However, it is not merely an additional step—far from that—it is a radical way of looking at things.
Faith, especially that which is taught from birth, has its natural progressions of understanding God and how to please Him. The progression goes from the original outlook of life of "I should do whatever I have to do to get what I really, really want (but don't know why I want it)," to an earnest desire to please God and still ask Him for the occasional personal request (so-called "miracles"), to a willingness to commit oneself to God (but with particular reservations), to a total submission to God's will...one where all reservations are removed and there is a total trust in God.
I think I was somewhere in the second stage this past year with a troubled relationship. I was essentially asking God to perform a miracle for me to change a relationship to conform to my understanding of how it should be. Over the months, I have realized the errors in this way of understanding.
It wasn't until this weekend in Eucharistic Adoration that I detached the worries over the relationship and looked at it in a more holistic approach. If I were to put myself in the others' shoes, where would that put the troubles of my heart? I realized then that it is through measured understanding that these troubles of my heart ought to be discussed openly but also in a calm, rational way. Pure passion leads down the road of irrationality, so tempered passions are needed.
Another thing this weekend of prayer addressed was the spiritual dryness that grew this summer due to exacerbated tensions of already strained friendships. It loosened the elastic stretch of these tensions and lightened the struggles that I have laid upon myself. It was through solitary prayer that this opened my heart to re-tapping the communal strengths of loving, unassuming friendships. It decreased the distance of compassion and brought compassion and caring to the forefront. It was the prayer and devotion to God that "popped" these rubber bands of snares set before my feet in my day-to-day life of this past year.
Yet, more importantly in the retreat's final hours God did something even more gracious and loving. He gave His children a clear message in which to follow: trust in Him completely so that in our earnest desire to try to please Him in everything, one does so even when we come up short, and that we are to trust in Him to continue to guide us to the right path even after these shortcomings, correcting our ways and conforming us to His will.
It was during these final hours of the retreat that the final talk was given and the Mass was celebrated. And these two were intertwined even more than usual. The Mass is our guide to pleasing God. It is that reenactment and remembrance and actual presence of Jesus there in the Mass that so moves us as the Faithful. In the words that Thomas shared in the last talk, he discussed the Mass as our focal point, the roadmap given by Christ himself for our daily journey: "The Lord's Prayer."
It is here that as he also quoted Thomas Merton:
And, in reflection, he shared the song Go the Distance:
This song was, for me, the capstone of the retreat. The images shared during the music were of the previous talks of the weekend. The words spoke to me of why I was there—to seek God in all His ways and follow Him—and why it was most important for me in my heart to continue on this journey with my friends around me. This "hero's welcome" isn't at a distance. It's right there in front of me in its current form, in the flesh and blood of those friends before me. I have no need to wander, for all I need is there before me.
In approaching this blog post, I went to find the music to reflect on again. I couldn't help but see the "ev'ry mile" that is "worth my while" were the miles I traveled to get to where I was today. It was in the here and now. And the searching is what I have done these four years since arriving at A&M. It is something that I must do...and have done. It is what I have found there that is my hero's welcome.
And through tears shed, all I could think of was of the joy of opening my eyes to see the love around me and the passionate love for God. This is indeed worth my while and a bridge that we all crossed this day together as one with and in Christ. Thanks be to God!
I am convinced of myself that this feeling is new to all eight other times before. This is a time of rebirth in my life. It is about seeing the world from a larger perspective all the time and also seeing it at the most personal of levels. It's about reflecting on past relationships—of faults brought to them and of faults taken away from them. It's also about setting new resolutions and commitments that have outgrown the original that were grown within me and taking those another step further. However, it is not merely an additional step—far from that—it is a radical way of looking at things.
Faith, especially that which is taught from birth, has its natural progressions of understanding God and how to please Him. The progression goes from the original outlook of life of "I should do whatever I have to do to get what I really, really want (but don't know why I want it)," to an earnest desire to please God and still ask Him for the occasional personal request (so-called "miracles"), to a willingness to commit oneself to God (but with particular reservations), to a total submission to God's will...one where all reservations are removed and there is a total trust in God.
I think I was somewhere in the second stage this past year with a troubled relationship. I was essentially asking God to perform a miracle for me to change a relationship to conform to my understanding of how it should be. Over the months, I have realized the errors in this way of understanding.
It wasn't until this weekend in Eucharistic Adoration that I detached the worries over the relationship and looked at it in a more holistic approach. If I were to put myself in the others' shoes, where would that put the troubles of my heart? I realized then that it is through measured understanding that these troubles of my heart ought to be discussed openly but also in a calm, rational way. Pure passion leads down the road of irrationality, so tempered passions are needed.
Another thing this weekend of prayer addressed was the spiritual dryness that grew this summer due to exacerbated tensions of already strained friendships. It loosened the elastic stretch of these tensions and lightened the struggles that I have laid upon myself. It was through solitary prayer that this opened my heart to re-tapping the communal strengths of loving, unassuming friendships. It decreased the distance of compassion and brought compassion and caring to the forefront. It was the prayer and devotion to God that "popped" these rubber bands of snares set before my feet in my day-to-day life of this past year.
Yet, more importantly in the retreat's final hours God did something even more gracious and loving. He gave His children a clear message in which to follow: trust in Him completely so that in our earnest desire to try to please Him in everything, one does so even when we come up short, and that we are to trust in Him to continue to guide us to the right path even after these shortcomings, correcting our ways and conforming us to His will.
It was during these final hours of the retreat that the final talk was given and the Mass was celebrated. And these two were intertwined even more than usual. The Mass is our guide to pleasing God. It is that reenactment and remembrance and actual presence of Jesus there in the Mass that so moves us as the Faithful. In the words that Thomas shared in the last talk, he discussed the Mass as our focal point, the roadmap given by Christ himself for our daily journey: "The Lord's Prayer."
It is here that as he also quoted Thomas Merton:
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
And the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
And you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
-Thomas Merton from Thoughts in Solitude
And, in reflection, he shared the song Go the Distance:
I have often dreamed
Of a far-off place
Where a hero's welcome
Will be waiting for me
Where the crowds will cheer
When they see my face
And a voice keeps saying
This is where I'm meant to be
I'll be there someday
I can go the distance
I will find my way
If I can be strong
I know ev'ry mile
Will be worth my while
When I go the distance
I'll be right where I belong
Down an unknown road
To embrace my fate
Though that road my wander
It will lead me to you
And a thousand years
Would be worth the wait
It might take a lifetime
But somehow I'll see it through
And I won't look back
I can go the distance
And I'll stay on track
No, I won't accept defeat
It's an uphill slope
But I won't lose hope
Till I go the distance
And my journey is complete
But to look beyond the glory is the hardest part
A hero's strength is measured by his heart
Like a shooting star
I will go the distance
I will search the world
I will face its heart
I don’t care how far
I can go the distance
Till I find my hero’s welcome
Waiting in Your arms
I will search the world
I will face its harms
Till I find my hero's welcome
Waiting in your arms
This song was, for me, the capstone of the retreat. The images shared during the music were of the previous talks of the weekend. The words spoke to me of why I was there—to seek God in all His ways and follow Him—and why it was most important for me in my heart to continue on this journey with my friends around me. This "hero's welcome" isn't at a distance. It's right there in front of me in its current form, in the flesh and blood of those friends before me. I have no need to wander, for all I need is there before me.
In approaching this blog post, I went to find the music to reflect on again. I couldn't help but see the "ev'ry mile" that is "worth my while" were the miles I traveled to get to where I was today. It was in the here and now. And the searching is what I have done these four years since arriving at A&M. It is something that I must do...and have done. It is what I have found there that is my hero's welcome.
And through tears shed, all I could think of was of the joy of opening my eyes to see the love around me and the passionate love for God. This is indeed worth my while and a bridge that we all crossed this day together as one with and in Christ. Thanks be to God!
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Into the Wilderness
I wrote this poem last Wednesday, during the hurried and busy week before Aggie Awakening #79. I tried to capture the sense of hopefulness of that this retreat would (and has since did) provide me new light on my Lenten journey of renewal and spiritual improvement.
Into the Wilderness I Go
Into the wilderness I go;
Let prayer ever be on my lips.
The Lord is my rock and my refuge.
In Him, I put all my faith.
With the morning sun
He sets me on my way
And with the evening's darkness
Sets me in His hands to rest.
Guide me, O Lord, by thy radiant beam
And keep me in thy care at day's end.
Into the Wilderness I Go
Into the wilderness I go;
Let prayer ever be on my lips.
The Lord is my rock and my refuge.
In Him, I put all my faith.
With the morning sun
He sets me on my way
And with the evening's darkness
Sets me in His hands to rest.
Guide me, O Lord, by thy radiant beam
And keep me in thy care at day's end.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Deus Caritas Est... Who Am I?
It's been a week since Aggie Awakening 78 took place in Somerville, Texas, but I'm still reminded of the thrilling weekend it was.
The retreat, which has been a fixture at Texas A&M (and St. Mary's) since the early 80's, is now the largest running Awakening retreat in the nation. Visit the Aggie Awakening history page for more information.
Anyway, back to the actual weekend. This past semester has been my 7th Awakening to be a part of (either as a retreater or staffer), and each time it seems to get even more special. For the fact of the matter is that each time you staff a retreat like Awakening is, you learn something more of what the retreat is about and a little more about yourself. For me, the weekend was an affirmation of some things I've read and spoke about with others, but it was also a wake up call for me in certain areas.
I've staffed now six times, and this time—like two times previous—I was a table parent. Being a table parent involves, I think, a little more preparation than a few other staffs (there a handful staffs in all), most importantly, because of the focus solely on the retreaters at one's table. This focus can be a good thing, since it's the spiritual uplifting that we are called to work with on this retreat, but at the same time things can be lacking for those involved... namely sleep.
Fortunately the Lord graced me with enough sleep... and energy... to be ready for the weekend physically. Yet, there are two other components needing preparation for retreats like this: emotional and spiritual preparation. Why emotional? Well, if you cannot become a fortress of emotional strength for your retreaters then the weekend is lessened for them. And spiritual? In the similar vein, a person on spiritually soft footing shall not provide sound bedrock for the retreaters to reside upon.
The retreat itself was a blessing though. It was a coalescing of friends, a common cause, a love for Christ, and a passion to bring that love to the retreaters.
Each retreat has a theme, something to focus on or bring focus to for the weekend. This semester's was "Deus Caritas Est... Who Am I?" This theme, based on 1 John 4:16 and Pope Benedict's first Encyclical letter of the same name, was a beautiful way to tie in a lot of what the retreat covers in a different light... a light that has been on my mind over the past semester, especially.
Although the fun-filled, spiritually-renewing weekend is over, the energetic buzz that I felt—akin to one of the tongues of fire received by the Apostles on Pentecost—has diminished some, but I feel that with the retreat, a quiet peace has been given to me. For this, among so many things, I feel so thankful for.
The retreat, which has been a fixture at Texas A&M (and St. Mary's) since the early 80's, is now the largest running Awakening retreat in the nation. Visit the Aggie Awakening history page for more information.
Anyway, back to the actual weekend. This past semester has been my 7th Awakening to be a part of (either as a retreater or staffer), and each time it seems to get even more special. For the fact of the matter is that each time you staff a retreat like Awakening is, you learn something more of what the retreat is about and a little more about yourself. For me, the weekend was an affirmation of some things I've read and spoke about with others, but it was also a wake up call for me in certain areas.
I've staffed now six times, and this time—like two times previous—I was a table parent. Being a table parent involves, I think, a little more preparation than a few other staffs (there a handful staffs in all), most importantly, because of the focus solely on the retreaters at one's table. This focus can be a good thing, since it's the spiritual uplifting that we are called to work with on this retreat, but at the same time things can be lacking for those involved... namely sleep.
Fortunately the Lord graced me with enough sleep... and energy... to be ready for the weekend physically. Yet, there are two other components needing preparation for retreats like this: emotional and spiritual preparation. Why emotional? Well, if you cannot become a fortress of emotional strength for your retreaters then the weekend is lessened for them. And spiritual? In the similar vein, a person on spiritually soft footing shall not provide sound bedrock for the retreaters to reside upon.
The retreat itself was a blessing though. It was a coalescing of friends, a common cause, a love for Christ, and a passion to bring that love to the retreaters.
Each retreat has a theme, something to focus on or bring focus to for the weekend. This semester's was "Deus Caritas Est... Who Am I?" This theme, based on 1 John 4:16 and Pope Benedict's first Encyclical letter of the same name, was a beautiful way to tie in a lot of what the retreat covers in a different light... a light that has been on my mind over the past semester, especially.
Although the fun-filled, spiritually-renewing weekend is over, the energetic buzz that I felt—akin to one of the tongues of fire received by the Apostles on Pentecost—has diminished some, but I feel that with the retreat, a quiet peace has been given to me. For this, among so many things, I feel so thankful for.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Awaken Our Hearts, O Lord
The 78th Aggie Awakening is this weekend, and it has remained on my mind for the past week, and even the weeks previous to it. It's been three years since I've made the retreat as a freshman, and it has been an even greater blessing each successive semester. As my sixth time staffing the retreat, most things will be the same, minus a few kindred souls who have graduated in the past semester, but in all the heart of the retreat will remain ever the same for me. It is a consoling time in each semester, to turn away from the helter-skelter of our lives and to focus so firmly on Christ.
Some might say there is a bit of an "Awakening high" that the participants have after the week is over. Each reaction to the weekend is different to some degree, but all are affected. It is this bonding in Christ, this awakening of our hearts to Christ and in Christ, that I cherish so much. Yet, this blessing amid so many blessings does not come without cost. Alas, there has been much work put in already to prepare for the weekend, much prayer, much love. However, it should be noted that through it all it is a labor, a gift of love that is given and received by all.
It is then my prayer, that through this retreat, my faith life might grow further and the faith lives of the retreaters grow exponentially. I pray that they see the love of Christ at work and, with His love, move mountains.
Some might say there is a bit of an "Awakening high" that the participants have after the week is over. Each reaction to the weekend is different to some degree, but all are affected. It is this bonding in Christ, this awakening of our hearts to Christ and in Christ, that I cherish so much. Yet, this blessing amid so many blessings does not come without cost. Alas, there has been much work put in already to prepare for the weekend, much prayer, much love. However, it should be noted that through it all it is a labor, a gift of love that is given and received by all.
It is then my prayer, that through this retreat, my faith life might grow further and the faith lives of the retreaters grow exponentially. I pray that they see the love of Christ at work and, with His love, move mountains.
For all of you are children of the light and children of the day. We are not of the night or of darkness. Therefore, let us not sleep as the rest do, but let us stay alert and sober. Those who sleep go to sleep at night, and those who are drunk get drunk at night. But since we are of the day, let us be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love and the helmet that is hope for salvation. For God did not destine us for wrath, but to gain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live together with him.
Therefore, encourage one another and build one another up, as indeed you do. We ask you, brothers, to respect those who are laboring among you and who are over you in the Lord and who admonish you, and to show esteem for them with special love on account of their work. Be at peace among yourselves. We urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, cheer the fainthearted, support the weak, be patient with all. See that no one returns evil for evil; rather, always seek what is good (both) for each other and for all. Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing.
In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus. – 1 Thessalonians 5:5-18
Monday, November 07, 2005
Aggie Awakening #75
Amazing, simply AMAZING! Each time, whether as a retreater or a staffer, the experience becomes evermore profound. Why you ask? Well, not to ruin it for those yet to experience it, but simply because of the profound impact this retreat has on one's faith life.
The retreat is a weekend-long retreat that occurs three times a year: in the spring, the summer, and the fall. The retreaters are put together in groups, or "tables," for the weekend and madness and mania ensue! I'm joking here, of course. There are talks and discussions, so come ready to share. Overall, it's an amazing experience and one that I will continue to cherish (and renew) each semester.
Christ be beside me; Christ be before me; Christ be behind me; Christ be within me; Christ in my sleeping; Christ in my sitting, Christ in my rising, Christ be in all hearts thinking about me; Christ be on all tongues telling of me; Christ be the vision in eyes that see me; in ears that hear me, Christ ever be.
Sunday, March 06, 2005
"Awake, O Sleeper...."
Brothers and sisters:
You were once darkness,
but now you are light in the Lord.
Live as children of light,
for light produces every kind of goodness
and righteousness and truth.
Try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord.
Take no part in the fruitless works of darkness;
rather expose them, for it is shameful even to mention
the things done by them in secret;
but everything exposed by the light becomes visible,
for everything that becomes visible is light.
Therefore, it says:
"Awake, O sleeper,
and arise from the dead,
and Christ will give you light."Ephesians 5:8-14
We must awaken our faith, our love for Christ each and every day. Let not this day be one in which we fail to do so. God bless, and "Awake, O sleeper!"
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