Im pretty sure i haven't blogged in ages, and i really need to write more. It's the inner artist in me who needs to bare my soul and string flowers in my hair--compiling my thoughts into eloquent sentences full of depth and whimsy. Yeah, okay. So, i'm tired from work (new job= awesome) and I am happy to say I actually LIKE my job for once. I am a librarian assistant, hired by a temp agency, and I essentially speak with international students (my fellow co-workers), collect dimes (for the printer/copier) and occasionally shelf a book (on a busy day). I do feel like bit of a slacker--not gonna lie, but in a good way. I feel as if God is saying "I gave you this job, so enjoy it!" And i do enjoy it. I love to peruse the bookshelves looking for something to skim during my eight hour shift or finding a recipe in a magazine and ferociously copying it on slips of paper lying about. Man, I just love hanging out in libraries--and this is a college library. Meaning, there's a different vibe going on than your standard city library. There's a higher energy (mad scrambles to finish papers, young people laughing, and a general ambition to study and read and stuff) so I have a feelin' in my heart, that public libraries have a bit more of a sleepy, droned out vibe. I've been told to tone down the vocal intensity (I'm kind of loud) which makes me laugh, as I do have a voice and laugh that carries, so working in a library is kind of ironic. But I definitely like the quiet. Definitely. I love to contemplate...and generally really despise background noise. So, the quiet atmosphere really kind of makes me calm--a natural laxative. LOL. (I have known other book worms to admit this too! You know you're a bookworm when you can only "relax" in a library.)
Sooooooo....yeah, I am in a new stage of thinking too. Great books can truly form our minds, and I am reading one that is doing just that--called "Consoling the Heart of Jesus" by Fr. Michael Gaitley. My favorite bits have been the parts about the Little Way (the inspiration for my blog name "Le Petite Voie" which is little way in French) and also Divine Mercy. Who knew the two could be combined? Apparently, Cardinal Schonbern (sp?) ... and the guy who wrote the book, but I was pleasantly surprised. Here is what has impacted me:
1) The Little Way of St Therese is so simple--yet it's so tough! It definitely requires grace to comprehend...in fact, that is the genius of Therese. She understands that "little souls" (ahem) need Jesus to do everything for them. Sounds like spiritual laziness? It's not. Jesus really is our all in all--remember that little verse in Scriptures that says only by the Spirit of God can we say "Jesus is Lord"? Yeah, I dont remember where--but what hits me about that is how everything truly is a grace from God. This particular truth blows my mind so much. I can't even utter that phrase without God's permission, or in other words--grace. So, as I am sitting in my abyss of smoke...my dark night...my labyrinth of confusion (love rhetoric) I see a beam of light: I don't have to have my life figured out. What? You mean, God WILLS the mystery? But, God, what if I need to know? I mean--I know some folks just wanna know stuff because they are like Adam and Eve and have an unhealthy desire for knowledge and stuff like that, but I have a deadline. The world needs an answer--I got superiors who need answers, and I'm being "counted on" to deliver. So YOU, kind Sir, need to deliver. You need to let me know Your Will--like asap. I only got 53 minutes left of my Holy Hour. So I am just gonna sit here and stare at the stack of books next to me ("Ooo, the life of Saint Margaret Clitherow looks swell") until you lemme know. But God, seriously? I need to know. Okay, God, this really sucks--why are you doing this to me? I mean, I have waited so long. I mean, I know you -- you are just waiting for me to be resigned right? To surrender? Yeah, I did that already. Remember, last Tuesday's holy hour? Totally gave it all to you, Lord. I am still waiting on an answer. Okay, now there's 49 minutes left. I am dying, God. I am literally dying. *Insert head in hands and slowly rocking*
You are probably reading this and either thinking "Is this for real?" or maybe, "Is this chick nuts?" but honestly, it is real, and yes I am nuts. And I like to eat nuts too--like all of da' time. I make you nut bread. Okay! But seriously that IS my inner dialogue in prayer. I think it's highly accurate. Here's what's good about it: I'm being real with Jesus. I am not hiding my frustration and piously praying a rosary with all THAT going on. No, I am super annoyed and He knows it. So, I nailed that (being sincere and open to God)--but here's my little problem on my journey on the Little Way...I fail to remember one word: acceptance. Oh, and another--confidence. Yikes. Does that dialogue above sound like a surrendered soul confident in the riches of God? Absofruitly not. It's kind of hilarious because it's like, opposite. So how does one, who has to make decisions but feels very in the dark, solve the problem of cluelessness? When God doesn't give us a big kick in the pants like we WANT? This is my conclusion: accept the darkness. Accept the fact that God has not opened your mind to His will. Key word: opened your mind. Yes, in Scriptures it says God opens the mind of His people, and He can also close the minds of His people too. At the moment, God has not opened my mind about my future. It's dark...hazy...and just kind of there. I don't have great desires like I did in the past ("I want to be live in Europe...on a mountain...covered in mist...with a sheepherder as my husband...and we'll grow organic veg and sleep in a thatch covered cottage...no, we'll have a caravan! Even MORE gyspy.") My heart does not burn for this like it once did...and that is part of "detachment." The more "little" we become...the less our desires, virtues, sacrifices, and gifts really matter. We see it all as "little nothings," because they don't matter in the long run--what matters is that we accept we are nothing without Christ, and Christ is everything. (Seek first the Kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added unto you.)We need nothing, and we want for nothing when we can see the True Treasure gazing upon us. He constantly gazes! That in itself is intense, and rather wonderful. The Divine Gaze...you will never feel alone if you remember this.
So, you might think, "geez, that's all fine and good that you are waiting for God to open your mind or whatever (--is she a druggie now?), but you need to make a decision, and be within reason." Yes, I agree. God wants me to make a decision. He wants me to act--not sit and contemplate for hours on what I should or should not do. But here's the thing: I firmly believe that when we are in a period of darkness about where God wills us, we have to accept this as part of His will. I am walking with God, so during the journey when it gets hazy, and I am asked to make a decision at a fork in the road, and suddenly my roadside companion disappears in the fog, I need to choose and walk one way or another. The cool thing about Jesus is He doesn't demand we stick to that path we chose, just in case it's not exactly what He intended. (Does Jesus ever demand?) Sure, we may walk our route, tripping and stumbling along, but in the end, Jesus will take us through the brush and go "off-roading" until we get back to the correct path--"the scenic route" which He especially designed for us. Heck, He might even backtrack a bit so we can meet the people we were intended to "pass along the way." So, don't feel constricted by past failures or even by a poorly discerned decision: HE lifts the fog--we cannot. So don't try to get out your map and frantically navigate where you're going, because if you're in a fog--you're in a fog. Just walk. The Spirit doesn't use maps anyway.
And heck, even our "wrong choices" can be used--God can take our yes's that should have been heck no's and make them into humbling experiences that transform us. I know that in my past, I have committed to things that were such gambles, like packing up my entire car and moving to Wyoming to live on a horse ranch for teen girls. Say, whaaaat? Yeah, that is so weird. I don't even like that idea at all, but back than, about a year ago, I thought it sounded so epic...so adventurous. I lasted one week. One measly week. Yeah, I committed to this thing. I packed up my life into my car...I tearfully left my hometown and even crashed a wedding to say goodbye to all my "old friends." Yeah, it was dramatic all right. I got to Wyoming...and I had a pit in my stomach from the start. It didn't "feel right." I didn't notice it initially--who does? I thought it was jitters from moving to a new place and having no clue about my job--especially the "cowgirl lifestyle." I didn't own any riding jeans or boots that could tolerate temps of -50 C. No. I just, like, really love nature...and the ranch was "Catholic", and I live to do weird things. PS, they needed help--really badly. I felt it was quite providential, as the girl who's job I was replacing actually lived in the same retreat house as me in Scotland. I was sure externally-- it looked right. I even had a degree in Family Science/Psychology, which was exactly what they were looking for as it was a treatment program for adolescent teen girls. So, why the heck did I only stay one week? I mean, that's not even a fair shot! I should have at least stuck it out for a month! Push through, Rachael. Yeah...see, again I disagree. I felt completely and totally miserable...but not even just on a physical level--my spirit felt completely trapped and suffocated. Not only that, but the treatment itself was entirely against my own ideology. The girls were penalized for almost everything, including sharing with another girl their favorite band "back home", as it could be a manipulation technique to gain alliances. Such penalties were varied, but mostly it was along the lines of "Give me 100 pushups." That was too military for me. Also, we, the staff, were not allowed to give out any personal information, and were advised to not wear clothing with personal info on it (college, home state, hobbies), as that too could be used for manipulation. My head spun. I couldn't talk to the girls in a real way? Or form relationships? I had to keep my boundaries--these girls were in a severe treatment program for a reason. This program was the rock bottom for these young girls--it was a very expensive, private treatment program that was intended to make them break. There was nothing gentle about it. No electrity in the cabins...wood burning stoves...carrying crates of books under fences for miles with 100 degree winds, and even signs to wear around your neck when you disobey. I was appalled when I saw a young girl sitting on the floor behind a woodburning stove with a blank look staring at the wall for days on end. "This is her penalty. You can't believe a word they say. Don't feel bad for them." Um....okay. If anyone knows me, they would understand why this would be my anti-job. I did feel bad for them. On some level, I understood they felt hopeless and completely trapped. If the girls must undergo this sense of imprisonment and harsh conditions, so must its staff. I am not saying it's all wrong--some of it is necessary, but my heart disagreed with much and I didn't have passion to withstand such a lifestyle. I also felt the ranch was a bit untruthful in the way they market themselves online--they state they value an organic, whole foods diet...but yet the girls only ate Sysco products. Sysco, my friends, is what is served prepackaged in our public school system. It's about as un-organic as it gets.
The ranch itself was about 25 miles from a Catholic church (yeah, that's not gonna work for me--Jesus and I are not long distance, OK?) and the nearest town was around 50 miles away. I like my solitude...but I need social interaction from people other than those whom I live AND work with 24/7. This place was so remote that there wasn't even a zipcode where we lived...it was in a snowy valley surrounded by desolate mountains. Desolate. Yes, that is the word of the trip. This place just made me...so desolate. Even when I went into town, I met a lovely young woman who described Wyoming as "Desolation Station." I laughed so hard--how literal God can be when trying to wake us up! I was on the verge of bawling every five minutes because my spirit felt so imprisioned...the ranch even looked like a concentration camp. I am not taking literary liberties...I've been to Auschwitz--this ranch had barren written all over it. It has barb wire fences. It would have been pretty beautiful if it was summer...but man, it was January--and the snow was up to my calves. And man, that wind. Did you know Clark, WY is one of the most windy places in the country? 130 mph winds! I thought I was gonna blow away, and man, I wanted to!
So, what does all this mean? It means that my spirit was crying out...I felt no freedom there. I felt no joy. I felt no peace. The fruits of the Spirit were nada. I felt completely trapped...and I remember that I felt so trapped that all pride was out the window. I didn't care how ridiculous I looked...I had to get out. I even called my spiritual director crying telling him I wanted to leave, and he wisely advised I try to stay another week. So, I woefully went to the church to pray about this on my Sunday off, only to meet a young woman from Portland, Oregon (whom I mentioned above). I bought the book "He Leadeth Me" by Fr. Walter Ciszek (again, super providential for this period of my life) and was telling her of my despair and feeling of being trapped. She was so delightful and I spoke with her for many hours in that church vestibule, and I felt joy and consolation rushing into me. She was describing to me Portland, and how hippy it was....and about the pro-life movement that she was involved in...and how there's Ukrainian churches, and all kind of ethnicities living in Portland. (Interestingly enough, all the things I LOVE. Coincidence, I think not!) She even went so far as to give me a million phone numbers, just in case I move there. One happened to be her old landlord, Betty, who was a 3rd order Dominican, who only charged 200 a month for rent. I could move to Portland if I wanted. (Tempting...I even called Betty on my hour long drive back to the ranch) But, what about sticking it out? Waiting a week? I knew in my heart of hearts, as the consoling conversation with my new friend revealed, that I was not meant to stay a moment longer. I was to get out very quickly--and God did indeed confirm it more ways than one. But the easiest way to describe it was I had an ephiphany--I just had a rush of joy and knowledge that I was "freed." I wasn't called to work there. Poor discernment, but big learning lesson and a sweet dollop of cream to go on my humble pie.
The next morning I confidently and peacefully walked into the head director's office and gave him my resignation. He fought me on it--oh man, good thing the Holy Spirit spoke through me, because his questions were so rough. At first, he seemed super ticked--and rightfully so. But, was he the one who packed up his whole life and moved to a foreign place only to look like a fool? Nah. But I did impair the girls' treatment by coming into their lives in this remote area, and than suddenly leaving. And for that, I am sincerely sorry. We spoke about my mode of discernment (Ignatian) and how one must feel peace from Christ if they are called to something. He challenged me: "I was discerning religious life for about four years...and it wasn't always easy. You've got to at least try...this will be the hardest thing you'll ever do but it is the most rewarding." However, I had unshakeable confidence and looked at him and said "I did not feel peace in any process before or after accepting this position. I came because of "signs" and what looked like God's will--as you were in great need of help and I, too, needed a job. But, in my discernment I never felt an interior peace and God only speaks through peace." His reply: And how do you know that you won't do the same thing again-- commit to a situation than quit?" Yeah, he's a psychologist, and yeah he was right. This could be a reoccuring theme in my life-- what if I am setting myself up for a downward spiral here? And I was honest: "I don't know. But, next time, I will sit in front of the Eucharist until Jesus confirms it with peace. Otherwise I will not do it." And he just looked at me and told me I had 24 hours to leave. So I packed up my car within an hour and headed off to my freedom, rejoicing like I've never rejoiced before. It's only when you feel in chains that you realize how truly precious the freedom of Christ is! He wants us to live an unchained life.
So, that being said you may understand my fear of making decisions or mistakes, as that story is only one of my "failures" so to speak. But what did Jesus do? He gave me an ephiphany. He orchestrated my deliverance. I can't pull it out of Him--I just gotta trust. He's gonna do it. So, even if we put ourselves into a situation that is pretty much dead locked and we're committed--He can find us a way out. God is freedom. We're not trapped. Even those who really are in prisons and death camps...they still find a "way out." Their attitudes change. They see their imprisonment as part of God's will until the day they get their parole. My parole is consolation...it's that "ah-ha" moment where God lifts the fog and I can see the sun shining again. I am waiting for that right now. I got a new situation and it is not easy--and I would blog about it but I'm afraid to for lack of discretion. I am waiting for the peace that only Christ can give...I am waiting for my epiphany...and I know it will come. That's my confidence that I borrowed from St. Therese...it's a new hope that God, who can only open the mind, is taking His time designing and arranging the perfect "ah-ha" moment so I will know in my heart of hearts what I am called to do. God is solid--He doesn't rest on shaky ground. So neither should we. I will rest that the solid assurance of His answer will come, and it will come with joy...and peace.
AMDG!
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