Looking Back and Looking Forward

Last night, I was desperate for Samuel to fall asleep so I went for a short drive in the car with him. I usually go through our neighborhood and loop around my in-law's neighborhood, but this time I decided to drive over by the zoo. Because the car is quiet, besides NPR playing on the radio, my mind wanders and I have time to think. Driving under the 235 overpass I was reminded of a time in highschool when I reconnected with my best-friend from elementary school. She had moved to Missouri with her mom several years before, but was visiting her grandparents during the summer. We made plans for me to pick her up and go see a movie together. 

It was the summer I turned 16, and I was still learning to drive a 1989 Honda Civic with a manuel transmission. I was fine once I got out of first gear, but if I came to a full stop and had to ease my way back into first gear I almost always killed the car or squealed the tires. 

So, as I'm pulling out of my friend's grandparent's driveway after picking her up, I turn to start going down the street, shift into first gear, squeal the tires, and drive away. We're driving down 21st street heading towards the west Warren when my friend receives a phone call from her grandma. I could hear her grandma yelling through the phone telling my friend to come right back home. I was so confused and had no idea what could have possibly gone wrong in the short time I was with her, but I obediently drove her back to her grandparent's house. As soon as I pull in the driveway her grandma storms her way over to me. She proceeds to yell at me for being "disrespectful" and "peeling out" of the driveway the way I did. I was so stunned and shocked by the lecture I was receiving that I could barely explain that I was still learning to drive a stick shift and in no way meant any disrespect by squealing my tires. 

I bawled the entire way home, and have never spoken to that friend since.

Replaying this incident in my head made me realize that people may take my actions and words a different way than I mean. I am not a malicious person, and never mean to be rude or bitchy. 

I want people to see and know me for who I really am. 

I'm not one to judge.

I want to be liked by everyone.

I listen.

As we head into the Advent season we need to reflect and prepare ourselves for the upcoming birth of Jesus Christ. Part of this, for me, is to make sure I am perceived in a positive light, that everyone I come into contact with can see Jesus through me. I don't want my actions to negatively affect anyone, but if I happen to offend someone in someway I want to be granted the opportunity to explain myself and hopefully fix the problem before it becomes out of hand.

What is your wish for yourself this Christmas season? 

My Biggest Flaw

Guess what? I'm not perfect.

If you follow me on Twitter, or are friends with me on Facebook, you might have noticed that I was up late Wednesday night dealing with a bout of anxiety. I can proudly say that it's been awhile since I've had this issue, but last night was triggered by my over-worrying of Samuel being sick and my most recent RCIA class. 

I'm not the only one who thinks the worst when their child is sick, right? Anyone? Anyone?

Wednesday's RCIA class topic was on Death, Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. Remember, my mind is still going rampant with thoughts that my almost-2-year old might stop breathing while he sleeps. The minute Father Jeremy started talking about death I almost couldn't bear sitting through it. I started to silently cry, and prayed that no one would notice. 

I can't really begin to describe the feeling I get when I'm about to come down with an anxiety attack. Basically, I feel like I've hit a brick wall and there's no way to climb over it, through it, or under it (going on a bear hunt?) The sense of finality is enough to almost knock me over. 

I'm not necessarily worried about what will happen AFTER I die, but rather what I leave behind when I do. I hate thinking in such a materialistic way, but I am so worried about leaving my children and/or my spouse. Who will take care of them? This current season of my life revolves around taking care of my house and family. Knowing that will cease to exist, knowing I will cease to exist, troubles me. 

I'm having a difficult time being able to detach myself from my life. I can't wrap my mind around the fact that this life is NOT as good as it gets. Something better awaits me. But since those who experience God's glory in Heaven are dead I have no way of knowing what's on the other side. Death is a great mystery, and that fact is what scares me. I don't want to be scared! 

Even though I was horribly uncomfortable sitting in a class that was talking about these heavy topics, today I am able to look back, reflect on my notes, talk to a close friend, and deepen my understanding of why my anxiety negates my physical health, but also my spiritual health.

Now, the question arises: Am I living my life for myself or for Jesus? 

The parable Jesus told of the barren fig tree was mentioned Wednesday night (Luke 13:6-9). I want to live a life that will bear fruit for Jesus. I don't want Him to be disappointed in me. God created us out of great love, and we're supposed to share in a deep life in communion with the Trinity. We are not guaranteed Heaven so we need to strive to live and grow in holiness. 

 

Paragraph 1010 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church states, "Because of Christ, Christian death has a positive meaning: 'For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.' 'The saying is sure: if we have died with him, we will also live with him.' What is essentially new about Christian death is this: through Baptism, the Christian has already 'died with Christ' sacramentally, in order to live a new life; and if we die in Christ's grace, physical death completes this 'dying with Christ' and so completes our incorporation into him in his redeeming act..."

How reassuring!

I'm human enough to admit that this all boils down to me having trust issues with God. That seems so silly to say out loud. I should trust Him with every fiber of my being! My spiritual future is uncertain and impossible to know completely. I am weak, but yet I need to have hope. I want to die in sanctifying grace so I may go to Heaven. Please pray for me, friends, that I become vulnerable to Christ's love, and turn my entire life over to God.