His thoughts are higher than mine

I recently read a friend’s musings on how we often don’t understand the ways of God. I agree.

And then I wondered why...

If I had things my way – there would be a step-by-step plan lying on my desk instructing me exactly how I was going to accomplish the Lord’s plans for my life. It would be coloured with detail about the job I would have, the man I would marry and the children I would raise and it would dictate exactly how this would be accomplished.

But that’s just not how it is.

You would be strapped to find someone who would declare with certainty that they know the will of God for the next decade. More often – those who follow Him do so on a daily basis – seeking to hear His voice and follow in His footsteps as He gently guides us along our unique and perfect paths.

Often it’s hard. We don’t know where our steps today will lead us to tomorrow.
But we follow in faith.

And I think there’s phenomenal wisdom in this day-by-day revelation.

See, I often wonder if Agnes Bojaxhiu, at the age of 13, had been told that she would leave behind family and friends and spend her life in the streets of Calcutta feeding those she described as the poor and destitute– would she have endured? Would she have continued to follow? Or would she have run in the opposite direction as quickly and as far as she could have?

If Karol Wojtyla had been told when he was 15 years of age that he would one day be the leader of the Catholic Church on this Earth, that he would be shot in St. Peter’s square and later forgive the man who put a bullet through his chest – would he have remained faithful? Or would he have sought another path for his life?

The Lord reveals His plans on His watch.

Knowing that before He does – He will prove Himself faithful and give us permission to trust Him.
Yes, as we take risks and put ourselves on the line – the Lord assures us that He is worthy.

And it is with this assurance, that we are able to trust more. To risk more.
To forsake all else, which has repeatedly disappointed, and pursue the One who never fails.

Our Father doesn’t ask for foolish abandon before assuring us that He is worthy of our lives.

I think God gives me words once a while because they last. And emotions don’t.

Today, I don’t feel perfectly loved. I don’t feel the abounding, sustaining, suffocating love I easily described a couple days ago. And I don’t know why. But I know I don’t.

I have theories though. About why I don’t.

As I was sitting here this afternoon, feeling less than perfectly loved, a friend messaged me asking how to make pasta. I told him my favourite part is throwing it against the cupboard to see if it sticks – an absolutely guarantee that your pasta is ready! Yum.

Anyways – he proceeded to make his pasta, cupboard throwing and all. And was so pleased with his success he came online to tell me how well it worked, and more than that – featured this accomplishment in his facebook and twitter status – with a shout out to yours truly. And can I, regretfully, tell you, that –emotion wise –this was the most loved I felt this evening.

I think the world has become really good at acting.

John Paul II wrote of our heart’s yearnings.

I find great peace in thinking of the time when the Lord will call me: from life to life! And so I often find myself saying, with no trace of melancholy, a prayer recited by priests after the celebration of the Eucharist: In hora mortis meae voca me, et iube me venire ad te – at the hour of my death, call me and bid me come to you. This is the prayer of Christian hope, which in no way detracts from the joy of the present, while entrusting the future to God's gracious and loving care.

“Iube me venire ad te!”: this is the deepest yearning of the human heart, even in those who are not conscious of it.


I don’t always see this. The people I encounter don’t appear to be hungry. They don’t scream yearning. And when I’m stuck in my own world, engulfed by the love of the Father, I think I’m quick to forget what it is to NOT know the love of the Lord. To not have that yearning spoken for.

My theory: when I find myself suddenly feeling unloved, I think that’s a bit of a wake up call. It’s a reminder of how I would feel most everyday if I didn’t know, have or embrace the love of my Father. A reminder that though we can all put on happy faces and pretend we’re satisfied; though we can even convince ourselves that we have what we need, it doesn’t make it real. Our longing doesn’t go away. A reminder that just because everyone seems to have it together doesn’t mean they do. A reminder that we are capable of wearing masks and pretending we’ve found what we’re looking for – though that remains a distant reality for many.

Life’s a lot easier if we ignore the yearning of our human hearts. Or the yearning of those hearts around us. It’s easier when we accept people at their face value and fill our lives with temporary pleasures to dull the ache of our own longings.

So many of the things we do can be explained by our hunger to be accepted, to be needed and to have purpose in our lives because much of who we are is wrapped up in our hearts. And so it follows that our true happiness lies in satisfying those innate desires with that for which they were created.

Objectively, we often find ourselves on the outside of situations that our friends or family are involved in and we just can’t understand why they are where they are. We don’t understand why they choose option A, when it is slowly destroying them, while option B has their true best interests at heart.

Look to their yearnings.
Look to the rawest desires of their heart.

Therein we find the answers.


Our hearts are restless until they find rest in You.
St. Augstine

Drowning in love

I know I say it a lot – but we are so perfectly loved.

I love my parents. And they love each other so much.
But I’ve noticed that when my dad does something for my mom, to express his love, he often does something that would make him feel loved – versus expressing his love according to her love language. And vice versa.

There’s a bit of incongruence that happens here, since my mom doesn’t necessarily experience love the same way dad does. And so, while their intentions are perfect, their actions aren’t always a perfect reflection of their intention.

Gary Chapman may have been one of the first to discuss our love languages a good deal. I’m a fan.
(http://www.fivelovelanguages.com/)

And as I’ve pondered this ‘imperfect’ love, I find God’s character as our Creator begins to pop.

Over the past few months, I’ve found myself floored by how loved I can feel in a moment. It’s a love that I think no human can perfectly express.

I’m so fickle. My needs, my desires, my wants are constantly changing. I could never expect anyone on this Earth to keep up, to know what I’m feeling in a moment, and to know how to love me perfectly. There are times when I’m lonely, and want to be engaged and reminded that my life is important. And then there are times when I’m overwhelmed with work, and the best way I receive love is when I’m given space, without you feeling like I no longer love you.

And so I cannot expect to always be understood or loved perfectly for my thoughts are not always plastered on my forehead. And still - that’s the thing about God. He’s always BANG ON.

There’s no guessing game with Him. He doesn’t have to decipher my words or my actions. He knows.
Just as Bill Gates knows how to fine tune the PC world, as a pet owner knows how to work with their pet, so our Creator knows His Creation. And in so knowing us, He loves us just as we need to be loved.

And through this love we find ourselves almost crushed by the beauty of His love that can drown us in a moment. If love could suffocate, I think His would.

Arbitrarily abnormal

We have this idea that if you’re not in “perfect health” that you’re abnormal – you have a disorder.

I don’t think that’s fair.

For something to be normal it must be “in accordance with scientific laws”. The Merriam Webster suggests that normal is defined as “occurring naturally”.

If that is the case, if we would trust this dictionary for other definitions and therefore can accept this same definition – then Down’s syndrome is NORMAL. Multiple sclerosis is NORMAL. Cystic fibrosis is NORMAL. Many illnesses are NORMAL.

But maybe that definition of normal doesn’t satisfy…. Maybe we think normal should be a construct we examine within the context of the majority.

STILL.

If we define normal based on societal norms, based on that which describes the majority of people, then having blond hair is a DISORDER. Having a university education is ABNORMAL. If we truly compare ourselves to the majority of people – we would all be abnormal in one sense or another.
And if we accept that, then I guess I’m okay with identifying disease states as abnormal.

My issue, then, arises when we rank ourselves on a vertical ladder that says one state of abnormality is greater or worse than another. When we accept a certain amount of deviance from the norm, but arbitrarily define a cut off, below which, we no longer believe life should exist.

When does this happen, you ask.

90% of women who undergo prenatal screening and receive a positive test for Down’s syndrome (which is neither 100% specific nor sensitive, indicating false positives do occur), will choose to abort their child. Those statistics do not hold if the child is found to have light hair – so that degree of abnormality is okay. They also do not hold if the child is found to have an extra finger or a cleft palate – a greater degree of abnormality, but still acceptable. Why.

As far back as the human family can be traced, these “abnormal states” have been present. People with different coloured eyes and different coloured skin, who may not represent the majority, have maintained a right to remain a part of our family. Should not, too, those with Down’s syndrome? Or cystic fibrosis? Should they not be extended that same welcome in to this world?

As genetic screening becomes increasingly wide-spread and abortion rates remain devastatingly high, let us not forget that our individual choices determine the future of our human family – which is strengthened, not broken, by its great diversity.

Surprised by His love...

I think God has an *ongoing desire to make His love known.

I think, often, when we look at the cross, we’re (a) horrified and then (b) flabbergasted.

And then… somehow… we dare to believe that the Lord suffered the cross for our sake. That He really did love us enough to lay down His life.

And THEN we’re overcome by this sense of gratitude. We feel this responsibility to show the Lord how much we love Him. We feel like He has done His part on the cross, and now the rest of our life song should sing of our love for Him. And to ask Him for another sign of His love, would be like asking Mother Teresa to have done more. For He has done more than enough already.

BUT – in so doing, I think we almost remove Him from our relationship, as we strive to love him back.

Love is not a one-time commitment. It is not just something we prove once in some extravagant demonstration. And we know this. Because, in truth, that doesn’t match our human experience of love.

A man does not make an elaborate demonstration of his love as he proposes to his beloved – and expect that to be followed by a lifetime of his wife ‘repaying’ that love.

A mother doesn’t tell her daughter once when she is 6 years old that she loves her, and is willing to sacrifice her career to raise her – and then expect her daughter to love her back for the rest of their relationship with no further extension of love on the mother’s behalf.

Not only would that be a violation of love, it just doesn’t match our natural inclinations.

WHEN I LOVE SOMEONE I WANT THEM TO KNOW IT.
I want to express my love repeatedly.

I FEEL COMPELLED TO LAVISH THEM WITH MY LOVE.
With words of encouragement.
With hugs and physical affection.
With my time.
With my efforts.
With that which I have that I can offer them.

I long for them to know that I love them. And not just once.
I long to show them my love over and over and over again.

Is that not the very character of love?

Once we feel it, when we choose it – we are spilling over with a desire to have it known. To make it manifest.

Sure, we feel it more at some times and less at others, but that’s our humanness.

IMAGINE THE LOVE OF GOD THE FATHER.

He loves us SO perfectly.

And yes – what He did on that cross is enough.
It IS all we need.
It is the greatest gift any of us could ever dare to ask for.

And yet, it wasn’t meant to be a one time expression of love.

Jesus didn’t die on that cross that we would seek to repay that love for the rest of our lives.
No – He continues to desire to lavish His love upon us on a daily basis. He doesn’t want to hide that love and He doesn’t ask us to prove our love.

Even after emptying Himself fully on the cross, He –still- desires to romance us. To give even more of Himself for us – His beloved. For me – His princess. For you – His prince.

And just as a lover devises creative ways of expressing himself to the one whom he loves, so the Lord does for us. He blesses us with His abundant love. And in so doing – He invites us to fall in love with Him.

Yes – it is when we allow our hearts to be truly captured by His love that His name begins to bring a smile to our lips. It is when we are being pursued by the Lord that there is joy in our step.

He who created our hearts is ready to fight for them. He WANTS to fight for them.
... that we might have eyes to recognize the way in which our Saviour woos us.

But there are starving children in Africa….

For the longest time, whenever I heard people complaining about insignificant events – a stain on their favourite sweater, the wrong seat in a movie theater, not getting tickets to a concert they really wanted to see – I always felt an urge to shake them. I felt it was my responsibility to remind them that were starving children in Africa – why weren’t they just grateful for a sweater on their back? Or the privilege of watching a movie? Or the ability to listen to their favourite musician whenever they pleased on their fancy mp3 player?

Even when I caught myself complaining about the silliest of details, I always felt so spoiled. I felt like an ungrateful little girl, stuck in my own world, indifferent to the circumstances of the rest of the world. When I would then remind myself of those in less fortunate circumstances – occasionally my thoughts would turn around, but most often it wouldn’t accomplish what I hoped it would – namely a true change in my own attitude.

Recently I’ve learned that my eyes are not God’s eyes – and they don’t perfectly reflect that which He sees.

A few weeks back my heart slightly broke. It wasn’t a devastating hurt. In fact, it was probably the kind of thing that was bound to happen in time, so if anything – I ought to have been grateful for the pain I was being saved down the road. That’s what my head told me.

And yet – tears poured down my face as I experienced my emotions of the moment.

But in that moment, when I just couldn’t control the hurt in my heart, I heard God speak so clearly. And I knew that He cared. Yes, as I cried – curled up in my in my overpriced bed, wearing my overpriced sweatshirt, with my overpriced make-up all over my face, the God of this universe cared.

As humans – we’re so tempted to see circumstances. And to judge our lives based on circumstances. I think we’ve been brought up to do just that. When we see someone who is blind, we’re so grateful we can see. When we see someone without a fancy house, we’re thankful for the shelter under which we live. And when we see people in developing nations living lives so extremely different than our own – we think it’s our responsibility to give them what ‘we have’. To impose our infrastructure, our culture and our morals on their people.

I’m not sure that’s how it’s supposed to be. Though there are some basic human necessities that ought to be shared the best we know how with the greatest number of people, I dare say even that is not what’s MOST important.

If a mother or a father were to decide if they would rather have children who are rich but unhappy, or poor and happy –what would they choose? It’s not an easy question, because society and experience have led us to believe that money makes for happiness. But at the end of the day, a parent wants their child to be happy. To be satisfied. To be content. And they only want them to have money because they believe that is what will lead them to this desired outcome. A parent is less concerned with their child’s circumstances than they are with what that circumstance might produce (from this idea we develop the concept of discipline).

And as we so often see, the desires of a human parent for their child beautifully reflect God’s desires for His children.

I really doubt it matters if you have money or if you don’t. I don’t think it matters if you can hear or if you’re deaf. If you sing like an angel or are completely tone deaf. These things just seem so worldly. And there are countless examples of beautiful, talented, unique, holy people who fall under every title we could dream up.

Instead, I believe the Lord is concerned with the essence of His creation. He is concerned with my heart. My soul. My salvation. He wants for me to know His love. He longs for me to trust in His love. To find security in calling Him my Father. I think He desires that I go to sleep every night knowing that I am important. Knowing that I am precious. Cherished. Cared for.

This life just is not about our circumstances. It’s not a comparison between what I have and what you have. What you have accomplished and what I have. Our circumstances are only important in so much as they direct us towards our ultimate home. If it takes a broken heart for me – Inshallah. If it takes illness for one, poverty for another and failure for yet another – far be it for me to say their circumstances are unfortunate. For if we are able walk through these circumstances and end up at a place where we are more able to trust in the unwavering love of our Father – then our circumstances, easily dismissed by this world as misfortune – were exactly what we needed.

And so, as I lay curled up in my bed – I don’t think the Lord spoke ingratitude over me, as I may have done to myself before. No – I think He saw the part of me that is still looking for love and acceptance in this world. And He saw how it had been refused. And He knew what that meant to me. He understood my tears.. and I think He was happy to let His love be known in my time of hurt.

One body in Christ

In Church history – there used to be a lot of talk of making reparition for sin. There was, and still remains, this idea that as a body of Christ, we can make reparation for one another’s sins. That the penance we do and the sacrifices we make, can atone for the sin of others.

And this makes sense.

If, as a child, your vision in your left eye isn’t so good – the part of your brain responsible for vision in your right eye will “over develop” in order to compensate for decreased vision on your left. If you develop a permanent contraction in your hip that would normally prevent you from placing your feet evenly on the ground, the normal curve in your lower back will exaggerate to allow for normal movement. Similarly, if you lose your sense of vision, your sense of touch and taste are heightened to compensate for your lack of visual perception.

And so we see that the human body is able to, and naturally does, compensate for its imperfections.

So can the body of Christ.

While it would be easy for us to just live our own lives as though we weren’t part of a greater, supernatural community of believers – that’s not the reality of the Church. For when we were baptized, we became a part of God’s Kingdom – and that comes with a responsibility that supercedes our own wellbeing. Just as the leg cannot operate on its own and becomes paralyzed if the spinal cord is severed, I, too, cannot live disconnected from the mystical body. No – I run this race with my brothers and sisters. And in so much as they make up for what I lack, I too have a call to make up for where they lack.

Indeed we are called to share in each others’ sufferings, and we are called to atone for one another’s sins. We are called to pray for one another, to fast for one another and to suffer for one another. We are called to live as one body, and beg forgiveness as one body – for the sins of ourselves, of our Church, of our country and indeed of the whole human race.

St. Paul knew this (Colossians 1:24). And we need to remember it.

For the body of Christ on this Earth will never be made up of individuals who have attained perfection. And so – the only way in which we will achieve perfection is if we rely on each other for that which we lack and selflessly offer ourselves, and our lives, for the sake of the Kingdom to which we belong.

Colossians 1:24
Now I rejoice in what was suffered for you, and I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ's afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church