emperor penguin

Kamitlan

the interior life of a chica

under a rock
coldplay x&Y
[info]kamitlan
the world feels a bit chaotic now. Question. Would it be wrong to not read all the depressing news regarding the financial downturn? I sort of want to live under a rock, actually.

I find myself wrestling temptation more often, especially in just following God. The actual desire to go to Mass has somewhat left me. The last time I felt such an indifference towards Mass was when I had lost my faith. The distance between me and God is growing significantly.
I feel odd reaching out to my friends in faith. Odd perhaps, in many ways I "know" better. Once during a very low depression filled with doubt of God's love and wanting to give up, a friend asked, "Where are you gonna go if you leave the Church?"
My only response was, "Nowhere, there is nothing else that matters but God" It's true, despite my doubts I could only believe in the fullness of faith of the Catholic Church.

And now, stranded in my own world and thoughts. I just don't feel it. I know it's not about feeling, but I never was one with a strong will.

One of my Catholic friends told me just yesterday that she for some unknown inspiration has been praying for me and having me as an intention for daily Mass for the past few weeks. Weird. Holy Spirit? Perhaps, I haven't told her about my faith struggles. Of course this gives me good reason to realize that God still wants me and loves me. Of course he does...I just feel lost.

breathing gets harder
emperor penguin
[info]kamitlan
For some reason the oddest pop songs have been very likable to me like "Love Song" by Sara Barielles---i guess it's mostly the lyrics that started out like this:

Head underwater
And they tell me
To breathe easy
for a while
Breathing gets harder, even
I know that
Made room for me;
it's too
soon to see
If I'm happy in
your hands
unusually hard to hold on to

Blank stares at
blank pages
No easy way to say this
You mean well, but you make this
hard on me

I'm not gonna write you a love song
'cause you asked for it
'cause you need one,
you see
I'm not gonna write you
a love song
'cause you tell me it's
Make or break in this
Or you're on your way
I'm not gonna write you to
stay
If all you have is leavin',
Imma need a better reason
To write you
a love song today, today, yea.... (there is more lyrics....)

It's not in anyway some amazingly brilliant song, but the piano has a sort of upbeat tone that really draws me and always sparks me to sing out loud to the chorus whenever I hear it ---even in public spaces such as that time I was in the apple store. I like the story behind  the song b/c the singer/songwriter was being asked by her music producer people that she needed a love song and this is the song that she wrote.

The past few days at work have been interesting with the A/C not working quite at it's potential. So they had big industrial fans brought in---(they look like something from the 1950's) It's been quite busy which is good ;keeps me on task. A friend of mine got hired the week I was out in Iowa for the same team I work in and thats been an interesting change for me.  Oddly I don't like to mix my personal friends with my work friends...Its just weird to me. But maybe this is a good change. He's a really good Catholic guy and always very positive. I think I need to witness the positive expression of the Catholic faith. I'm still struggling emotionally and spiritually with many things, but I have kind have pinpointed the center of my disappointment/resentment. Well there are 2 big things, one mainly deals with just seeing a lot of the injustices and evil that causes suffering for people and often the indifference they receive from others. The second is more personal and relates to my personal social life where I feel that I've been left sort of abandoned. I enjoyed a great friendship that in some way brought on a renewal in my faith more for the sake of my friend than for me. To make the story short, I now find myself a bit  bitter since now I don't have the same company of my friend and said friend has now been able to thrive in their faith and even have someone else to share that with. I'm not sure if it's all clear, but none the less I'm left feeling alone and not really having anyone to talk about faith and really be close friends with. I know that I have tried to be friends with the Catholic people in the Houston area, but I always feel out of place. I wish at times it just felt like home.

God forgive me, but i'm bitter listening to those speak about marriage or happy couples.  And lately I just avoid that scene all together. Someone could ask am I jealous? Because it's sinful to be jealous. All this I know. I don't in any way want to take away from those who find themselves fortunate enough to be in meaningful relationships, I just get real sad to realize that I lack those.

I'm probably not making sense because I think I'm running a fever right now. Today I was sick/sleepy at work all day long. I am even experiencing chills. Probably just go see the doctor tomorrow morning. Uggh i just feel uggh. My body is sick, my soul and mind are broken.
I'm carrying a lot of sadness with me.
Its frustrating to try to just be happy with how things are because that is God's will. How can you reconcile your desire to follow God's will and the reality that you are unhappy with where God has you now?

Do you believe in Truth?
emperor penguin
[info]kamitlan
A favorite pastime of mine is to go and peruse the latest bestsellers at the local Barnes & Nobles. I never purchase the books, it's just my way to check out what people are reading, or if I were some conspiracist what "the Man" is "pushing" us to read.  I like looking at the covers and finding myself perhaps a bit amused by clever titles. Yet it's the same type of books you will find. The latest gurus "sharing" how they became what we would want to become. It's the self-help books that really leave a bad taste in my thoughts. Don't get me wrong if a person has been helped by them I'm thankful for that, but I have not.
For me Self-Help books have a rather emptiness, lack of the personal, even naivete that exists also in New Age spirituality. Yes, it is serving that which we as humans search either consciously or unconsciously- happiness, self-fulfillment, lessening of suffering, meaning of life.

I remember as a child the allusions to Shangri  La, the mystical land where paradise existed. As I grew older I was taught about the lessons of history in it's attempt to create it's own Utopias including that of Communism/Marxism.  The idea of creating a world with peace and happiness always intrigued me as a child. I grew up Roman Catholic, but I only heard of a place known as heaven. This heaven was for when after you died. So one would still have to suffer this life.
In my college years I came into an intellectual contact with Buddhism. Of course Nirvana was alluring. Nothing is real. Not even pain. Ironically I read the Tibetan Book of the Dead, and the Dalai Lama's The Art of Happiness, and several other Buddhist and Taoist texts, before I even read a book in the Bible. I started "understanding" how subjective the world was. And at that time I gave into the idea of believing in truth with a lowercase 't'.

During this entire time the search became fruitless and impersonal. Like some of the self-help books that I had encountered in the past, it was extremely egoistic, even when it proclaimed it was not. I still was fascinated by the pluralism in culture, language and especially worldviews-religions. This eventually led to my major in Sociology and my minor in Religious Studies. In my personal interior life I had so much uncertainty to what life was about and nothing I encountered truly spoke to the question that washeld in my heart. Out of habit I continued on my return to the Catholic Church, in participating or simply hanging out with those professing themselves Catholics.

It was until one moment when having a conversation with a person who would become a dear friend that I witnessed what I can only recall as a moment of truth. I asked why he believed after not believing at all and he shared because it was true and he pointed towards the Bible. Since then I have seen how Truth (with a capital T) can possess a person, can transform a person. At this point I had come to realize that there is a Truth.

I often wonder for the people around me if they believe in Truth?
Tags: , ,

healing mass...
emperor penguin
[info]kamitlan
I'm not sure if I told you about my experience at the Healing Mass I went to about 3 weeks ago. Just to clarify: I wasn't miraculously healed that day.
Sister Kim, my spiritual director( who I haven't visited in like a LONG time) sent me an email inviting me to the Healing Mass at the Villa de Matel Convent. Honestly the reason I went was really to have something to do on a Friday evening. AND I have been wanting to attend Mass at the Villa de Matel Chapel for the longest time (probably for like 2 years now) I was downplaying the whole notion of it being a Healing Mass. My mom on the other hand was all excited that I was going to go. I can't say that God can't "heal" me, but my doubts outweigh my faith in the regard of someone laying of hands leading to my healing. I should probably be chastised to have more faith.

So I went. The clear majority (about 85%)of people attending the Mass were either Vietnamese or Filipino, yet thankfully the Mass was in English. I was quite nervous the entire time of Mass and did my best to sit in the back in order to be close to Sister Kim. Weird enough I just wanted to hug her the entire time. I did at some point just hold her hand. In many ways she feels like a mother to me. Actually many of the sisters in her order (Sisters of the Charity of the Incarnate Word) always feel rather kind to me.
I didn't catch which order of Priest's celebrating the Mass, but I noticed that there were three priests. After the Homily, we were asked to come to receive the sacrament of anointing of the sick. During the Mass and especially during the Homily, I was thinking about faith and especially that story of the woman who touches Jesus garment and is healed by her own faith. And I'm wondering??? Can I let go and let God? Do I have the faith that truly God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit can perform any miracle. And what if I did have that faith but it wasn't God's will to heal me. Would I know that? or just find myself questioning my faith? My thoughts were racing as I stood in line with everyone else as we stepped towards the altar to have the priests anoint us. Anxiously I looked around and also wondered about everyone's faith there...what ailed them? Perhaps some of them had terrible life-threatening diseases. I noticed some were being aided on their way to the altar and it brought to mind the story of the paralytic whose friends bring him in from the roof to have Jesus heal him. My heart was just so full of emotion to realize that love could be so great for another they would do anything for their healing. And I just felt like I wanted to cry because I knew that more than likely for obvious reasons everyone was there because they were suffering in some form or another and they wanted to be healed.
And then it was my turn. During these times like when taking the Eucharist I have an excruciating time quieting my mind and being mindful. Although when I take the Eucharist I understand that it is the body and blood of Jesus. So I try to open myself to the presence of Jesus. (not that I'm completely successful every time) But anointing of the sick? What do I do? just stand there blankly or do I "pray" along? I felt like a child-simply bewildered. I was face to face with the priest and he anointed my head and started speaking in tongues. Not Vietnamese, or Filipino...no I've heard speaking of tongues before and this was it. Yet unlike the previous times I've heard people speak in tongues I wasn't frightened or disturbed but just a bit fascinated. I walked back to my pew to sort  of think things out with God. I knew we still had Holy Communion and after the Mass they were going to do prayer and laying of hands.
I sort of let myself relax after I walked back to the pew. I also decided to accept that I it wasn't wrong for me to be there seeking healing, because I am sick. It may be strange but I was even wrestling with the concept of whether I needed healing.
Back in the line. I was back in the line when it came to the laying of hands but instead of just the three priests they had two older sisters who were also going to pray over people. Before it all started they asked for volunteers to help out. I soon learned this was for those who would be overcome by the Holy Spirit. I decided to have one of the Sisters pray over me because she was really kind when I came into Mass that evening. That may seem a bit superficial but I simply was too anxious to put myself in even more uncomfortable settings. Approaching the Sister seemed comfortable.
Although this may sound a bit far fetched, people were falling left and right as there were overcome by the Holy Spirit during the laying of hands. So when I came up to the Sister to have her pray over me I was mixed between faith and skepticism. But I thought to only ask God to help me. I wondered if the Sister would be able to know what my illness was or did she just pray. I was curious to know what gifts she had. Her prayers was an interchangeable of speaking in tongues and the name of Jesus. And no I wasn't overcome by the Holy Spirit. I was afraid of losing myself in that way though. I remember her last words to me were "Give it up to God".  I was on my way walking back to my seat a bit disappointed. I realized that I had in someway hoped for a miracle but found myself unresolved in regards to being healed. I still felt the same. Then I thought what if its one of those slow healing processes and this is the beginning. But no, I realized things were the same for me, except for one thing. Instead of leaving then since it was over for me I felt drawn to return and simply watch the people being prayed over. Maybe God hadn't healed me but perhaps I could "witness" God performing a miracle on another...I'm not sure. There aren't many words to describe what pulled me back to the side and just stand there watching as everyone passed through.
Perhaps it's the sociologist in me. I just stood there and watched. Once again I had the feeling of being like a child seeing something for the first time. From my observations I made a distinction that some people were truly being overcome by the Holy Spirit and others were simply letting themselves go. There were a couple of times that because of lack of helpers I stood by to help lay people on the floor or simply help them get up.
I did witness one very interesting event of a woman who started shaking --practically convulsing. My guess is that she was possessed or something because a second priest was called in to pray over her as well.
The entire time I realized that the praying was low key. Despite the several people laying on the floor and that woman the whole event wasn't drawing attention to itself. It was as much as it could be private.
Yet during this time was when i experienced the oddest of all things. In order not to get in the way I was standing in front of one of the beautiful marble pillars. I concentrated most of my observations on the interaction between the person praying and the person being prayed on. And then at one point I simply practically felt as if I was going limp. My legs gave out on me and my back slowly slid down the pillar. I found myself sitting on the floor of the Church. I sat there for a few seconds before I could actually stand up. I was dumbfounded and I realized that no one noticed. I got back up but I felt as if I was about fall again.So  I took hold of the pillar and beared my weight so that I wouldn't slide down again. To be honest I don't know what happened there. I can't say it was due to me locking my knees b/c usually that makes you feel faint and I didn't feel faint.
I stayed around a bit longer to help some people get up since many had already left to go home and there were less helpers. At the point that only one priest was left praying, I decided that it was time to go home. I was tired. It had been a long evening.