When life gives you lemons...

Chuck them at people!

Not that I have any lemons at present.  :)  I just heard that yesterday on "Lie to Me" and thought it was brilliant.  On to better, greater thoughts...

America has set such a double standard.  If anyone twitches in the general direction of a Muslim, the media is outraged, nonsensical comments get posted on CNN, and people think it'll cause a nuclear strike against America in the coming weeks.  But when the Democratic party in Minnesota blatently attacks the Catholic Church, there are no such headlines, no outrages, no snide comments, no nothing.  On the one hand, we must be doing something right.  On the other...when will we stand up and fight for what we believe in?  Part of the reason that Islam is so powerful is that they are convinced of what they believe and will stop at nothing to achieve their goals.  When will Catholics have the same convictions?  Of course I'm not advocating blowing up people that don't believe as we do.  I am, however, advocating a renewal of true Catholic activism.  There's a lot of junk surrounding us in these days, and, as Catholics and as missionaries in the truest sense, it's our responsibility and obligation to work through it, be faithful, and save souls.  I don't care if you're a layman, husband, wife, student, child, priest, religious, bishop, the Pope, or run-of-the-mill apathetic cafeteria Catholic.  By virtue of your baptism and confirmation, you signed up in Christ's army.  Now it's time to fight the battles.  If you don't like it, don't pretend!!

"I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot. I would thou wert cold or hot.  But because thou art lukewarm and neither cold nor hot, I will begin to vomit thee out of my mouth." Apocalypse 3:15-16

Plans. Or lack thereof.

I'm not really famous for my cheery optimism or upbeat attitude.  Since being in San Francisco, however, I've received more compliments on my good work ethic and smiling face than I ever have in my life.  Maybe I'm good at faking it.  Or maybe that's the kind of results (read: happiness?) that you get when you try to do what God asks of you.

I didn't exactly beg God to let me end up in San Francisco after graduating.  In fact, I had a fantastic life plan, and a decent backup plan when that one proved to have failed.  But He asked something different of me and made it so that this was the only thing that worked out.  I had two choices: roll with it, come out here with no assurances on just blind faith, or deny Him and sit around doing nothing.  The choice was clear: this is what He was asking of me, and, no matter how afraid I was or how skeptical I was or how reluctant I was...this was it.  So now, I'm out here without a plan, save to go where He leads when He leads.  (I just pray it doesn't take too long!!)

God's will is a tricky thing.  I spent years discerning and praying for Him to show me His will about a million things.  Sometimes what I discerned was correct, sometimes it wasn't.  But it was always clear when the chips were down.  He doesn't hide His will from us; we hide ourselves from Him.

"Perhaps your own reiterated cries deafen you to the voice you hoped to hear." - C.S. Lewis

Transitions

Major life transitions are always tricky.  You have to have the proper balance among virtue, strength, poise, resign, trust, openness, and closedness.  A small Catholic university with which I have some familiarity and small-city Texas is just a little different from Fruit and Nut Central, California.  It's been a crazy ride, but, after 5 solid months of being here, I'm finally starting to adjust :-)  I have a good job, good friends, an opportunity to go to the Latin Mass and meet people of the same mindset as myself, and I sing in a good choir

Quid retribuam Domino pro omnibus quid retribuit mihi?
What shall I render unto the Lord for all that He hath rendered unto me?

It makes me wonder...what was the major life transition for Our Lady like?  She was just a young girl when the Angel rocked her world.  The prophecies rang through her ears: Behold, a virgin shall conceive..., By His stripes, we were healed..., He hath born the sins of many...  What an overwhelming and terrifying message.  And yet...through it all...she rose to the call, accepted  her "vocatio", as one called by God, even by name: FIAT.  But after that moment in the Incarnation/Annunciation, the Angel departed from her.  In Christoph Cardinal Schönborn's new book The Joy of Being a Priest (Ignatius Press, 2010), he describes Mary after this departure as being left with no consolation (con+solatio = to be with [another] in solitude), no ecstacies, no visions, nothing - save the promise of seven swords.  And the promise of VICTORY.  Mary "held all these things in her heart".  She didn't complain, she didn't protest, she didn't even defend herself when Joseph found out she was pregnant.  Assumedly, she would have accepted the quiet divorce from her upright husband.  What a burden it must have been to go through life alone.  At least, that's what we, on a human level, would think.  But Mary was the Theotokos, mother of God, full-of-grace, tabernacle of the Holy Ghost, one without blemish, without sin.  She was human, yes, but she knew better than any of us do that she was never alone.  She threw herself entirely upon the mercy and the love of God.  Her Magnificat is arguably the most glorious praise a human being could have ever rendered to God.  "The Almighty has done great things for me: HOLY is His Name."  She was called to a Love and an obedience so far above our own levels of comprehension, and she did not deny her Master.  (Side note: Reading St. Alphonsus Liguori on obedience is one of the most humbling and most eye-opening exhortations I've ever read.  It reminds me how attached to my own will I am every time.  Obedience is most pleasing to God, even if it sounds crazy, even if you don't understand it.)

"What shall I render unto the Lord...?"  Trust.  Humility.  Obedience.

"Do you truly trust Me?"
"Yes, Lord, I do."
"Then why do you keep worrying?  It has been taken care of."

Note the use of past tense.  From all eternity, He has a plan for us.  We worry on our own ends to no avail.