I wrote most of this morning’s post as I rode the bus to work, pecking out words on my iPhone screen. Just now as I went back to read it again, I realized that several paragraphs seem to have disappeared into thin air.
I originally ended this morning’s post by talking about the comfort I find in recognizing Jesus as the true embodiment of that Spanish phrase that has haunted me for years. If anyone knows what it is to feel pain “en su propia carne”, it’s Christ. It’s not a recognition that relieves the pain I feel – there isn’t an easy narcotic for that – but it’s one that reminds me that I am not so very alone in the midst of this painful journey – that there is One who holds me close and knows this pain intimately.
And since I wrote that post, there have been small reminders that I am not nearly so alone as I feel. Two different friends texting, asking how yesterday’s meeting had gone. Offering reasons to laugh and words of encouragement. Affirming my ability to know God’s voice in my life, and the need to be obedient to that. Reminding me that often obedience is marked with suffering, and that pain and suffering is one of the surest ways to confirm that I am actually obedient. Another friend, the one who knows the most of this journey and has walked quietly in all these hard spaces with me received my broken-hearted text message this morning and replied with words of love that made me cry. She talked of hoping to be here when I finally enter the Church and get to take part in the eucharist for the first time. I came home from work and noticed again the stack of birthday gifts from my family, sitting in a basket on my floor (1 gift for each of the 30 days leading up to my 30th birthday in August), and the package with my name written in sharpie is sitting on my floor. That package has winged its way to me from New Zealand, a 30th birthday gift from my best friend, and along with the gifts from my family is a reminder again that I am loved.
And finally, there is this – a brief email a trusted friend and spiritual advisor sent to me back around Easter, as I wrestled with the implications of this journey, and the overwhelming fear it sometimes carries. Her words ring true, and they are ones that my heart needed to be reminded of again today:
i am reminded of this scripture for you:
2 Cor 3:18
So all of us who have had that veil removed can see and reflect the glory of the Lord. And the Lord–who is the Spirit–makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image
Lisa, investigating Catholicism is not the final nail in a coffin, it is a complimentary ingredient to the recipe of you! You are more than a converted woman, you are a complex daughter in the kingdom regardless of your tradition or affiliation. Fear is real, and so tiresome, rest and feel no pressure to reveal the inner working that is going on in you until the Lord deems it time.