My Holy Week

Last week was a true growing experience for me, as I translated a way of the cross for victims of abuse for my Italian blog. I was able to add something of my own to the reflections based on the things I’ve learned in these past few months of blogging on this difficult topic. I’m grateful for the meaningful exchange of ideas and experiences that I’ve been blessed with.

I was happy, and so deeply touched, when I discovered that these women (even the girl I’d requested prayers for) had walked along the way to Calvary with me and others. I was glad that my work had served its purpose, not only for them, but for me. Although I had that material for over a year, I’d never had the courage to really look at it.

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I hadn’t been to Mass since Christmas…and I wasn’t happy about it. I did nothing for Lent - no liturgies, no adoration, nothing. I read only one book during this time: “Come be my light” about Mother Teresa’s long, dark night of the soul. I found no consolation in it–actually I thought it was very boring. But at the end of the book I came upon one paragraph, from a letter she’d written toMalcom Muggeridge, which took my breath away. To paraphrase it, she said  - “Christ wants to become your nourishment. But even though you are surrounded by the abundance of this Food of life, you let yourself die of hunger.”

That was a wake up call for me. I truly felt as if I was dying of hunger, but I didn’t have the strength or the will to ask for help. But help arrived in the form of the Stations of the Cross. And with that, I went to the Good Friday liturgy at our parish and I resolved to go to confession at the first opportunity, which was Tuesday.

For months I’d been trying to understand what it was that was blocking me. I was so caught up in it that I became mired. I knew it was psychological and that it didn’t have much to do with my childhood trauma, but with more recent traumatic events. In the course of that confession, the problem was clarified. Thank God!

All I needed was something that will help me go on living my faith. I don’t mind not having earth moving experiences when I go to church. I don’t mind feeling alienated or lost, or most alone when I’m at Mass. But I’m not Mother Teresa! I needed to understand the cause, and with that understanding, I’m ok - even if I still feel no consolation at Mass. Now I know. Now I can break those chains and start walking again. 

The Lord is Risen from the dead! Alleluia! I was letting myself die of hunger, but I’m alive again. Alleluia!