just a comma

"It reads, "And death shall be no more" comma "death, thou shalt die." Nothing but a breath, a comma, separates life from life everlasting. Very simple, really. With the original punctuation restored, Death is no longer something to act out on a stage with exclamation marks. It is a comma. A pause. In this way, the uncompromising way, one learns something from the poem, wouldn't you say? Life, death, soul, God, past, present. Not insuperable barriers. Not semi-colons. Just a comma."

vulnerability&humility

When I keep getting over-stressed, feeling inadequate or angry at myself for all my many, many screw ups and failures, I have to step back, breathe and take the focus off myself. Instead of "I'm sorry I am so weak and am such a failure." I need to acknowledge the weakness in myself and ask for more of Him. Just as praise should be redirected towards Him for the good I do, so should the focus be on Him to fill my weakness. Perpetually beating myself up for my weakness -- proudly claiming I'll fix it on my own -- and not asking for help, will only lead to continual failure. 
The root of my problems can be similarly dealt with. Instead of asking for the love or attention of others, I should ask for the grace to be truly humble -- to be delivered from the desire of being loved and to be content in who and what He gives me. 
Pride is such a sneaky little thing. I am so easily tricked into thinking that I'm being humble when it is really a blinding flare of pride. Keeping my problems inside to the point of self destruction, trying to do things on my own, low-self esteem and the like so often seem to be done from a place of humility but so often it is masked pride. 
A deep vulnerability, methinks, is necessary for true humility. It is probably one of the hardest things to do in this life but we have been given the most incredible, moving, brilliant example in Our Lord as a tiny child. The King of kings Who became the lowest of the low, loving with reckless abandon and keeping nothing for Himself. 
Most beloved Infant, have mercy on us and teach us true humility.

wildflower

...they neither work nor spin but not even Solomon in all of his splendor was clothed as gloriously one of these.

And are you not of more import than a flower? He is taking care. Be close to Him. 

Any glory gained without Him will be nothing in comparison with what He can work through you.

Lapse

I was looking through my drafts on this blog and I found an old poem I had began and never finished.

The darkest of my days, still light me reaches,

The coldest of my nights, warmth 'round me wraps.

The longest, endless road still I do travel 

And into mindless trudge again do lapse.

But broken! Piercing, penetrating light
Snaps me from my slumbering gait.

This way -- not waste nor worthless --

Is precious: My soul will better make.

Writing this poem I tried to get across my own spiritual journey. Often times I numb out and zone out. When I'm broken and upset, His comfort still reaches me but often eventually I slip down into a spiritual dryness. Christ always snaps me back. His love is fierce, piercing and relentless. This life, no matter how awful it may seem, is such a wonderful journey of purgation, training and sanctification. 

Oceans of Ink;

"Sure Lord, there is enough in thee to dry/ Oceans of ink;"

This statement would be true enough if all that was meant was strict theological writing -- this alone could dry oceans indefinitely. But it is so much more.  Every joy, every smile, every trial one retells with drops of ink reflects Him. Every time one explores the inner workings of his character, he examines a creature who can't help but reveal his Creator. Every story, poem, line, quote or whatever it may be is the smallest of drops in what is the vast, infinite, unquenchable ocean of who He is and what is revealed through His creation. 

(side note, I used pic monkey.com to edit this photo -- such an easy to use site!)

molly mornings

Molly and I walked through the rain of a chilly October morning. We talked, ate our breakfast and drank our coffee before heading to the Port for a 7:30am holy hour where... we are still. We kneel, sit, adore before Eternal Love surrounded by glistening silver and gold, the best we have to offer. We sit, we kneel, we are in awe before the King of kings as a gentle rain patters on the roof then is suddenly swept up by an impatient wind and thrown against the stone walls and the door. We are enclosed. We are secure. With the ever-changing world whirling around outside, we are still before the never changing One.

not just the subculture

We watched this talk (Beyond Just Beautiful Movies) in my Advanced Comp class this morning and -- goodness -- it is perfect. 

She speaks on the necessity of truly good Catholic art. The quality should be worthy of competition in Hollywood and we need to be charged to fight and present our ideas boldly rather than hide away in the "Catholic room" catering only to our Catholic subculture. 

My words cannot justly summarize this talk and so I'd strongly encourage you to watch it. It's one of those talks that really charges me to keep pushing to write with the highest quality, as effectively and as beautifully that I can.