Love to banish fear pt. 2: Forgiveness and Hurt.


You may remember a few months ago that I had a post titled Love to Banish Fear.  In it, I talked about how when you love with the love of Christ, there is nothing that can stand against you. At the time, I just thought that meant that I didn’t need to be afraid of situations or people that scared me.  I was right, but this is not the end. In the past few weeks, God has been showering me with love, to the point where I have been just overflowing with thoughts on His love (which explains all the posts lately!) I realized last night that I needed to write a part two to the wildly popular Love To Banish Fear post. So, without further ado, let’s talk about forgiveness and healing.

Old Wounds.

God has this great way of getting me to realize things. He hits me over the head with them. He’s really nice most of the time, usually triggering an old wound right around the time I’m going on retreat so that I have the time and closeness to Him needed to deal with it. I have told a few of you about the relationship between myself and my older sister. For many years, we had the most toxic relationship any two people could have. Since before I can remember, my sister has had an amazing gift to find every weak chink in my psyche and exploit it. For years, she would tell me on a daily basis that I was unloveable, and proceed to point out every tiny physical flaw (my nose was the “wrong” shape. My fingers were too chunky. My hair was a bad color. My eyes were dull. My legs were too short.  My chin stuck out too much. My arms were too skinny.  The stretch marks left over from my growth spurts meant that no guy would ever like me because I was ugly to look at. All the things that can cause horrific damage to the mind of a kid.) I learned later on it was because she was struggling with an eating disorder, and was taking out her own self-dislike on me. Instead of forgiving her and moving on, I did something that I will forever be ashamed of.

I had revenge. I pointed out her flaws, got under her skin, tried to make her feel all the hurt and pain I had felt.  I thought that it would make me feel better, but guess what? I felt like crap. I chose to hold on to my anger and pain, bury it very deep, and hide it by acting crazy and slap-happy all the time. I caused major damage to my sister, and she caused major damage to me. I was left a shell, acting confident and proud, and feeling worthless and unloveable on the inside, utterly alone. The wounds in my soul were infected, even though I had forced a scab over them and pretended they didn’t exist, and they gnawed in my mind.

Opening the Wound.

It took years to begin breaking the seal. It was on retreat this past spring that I was listening to a talk about the Our Father, and the line jumped out at me: “…Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us…” All of a sudden, I heard that still, small Voice in the back of my mind.

“I forgave those who crucified me for what they did. Why can’t you forgive your sister for her wounds to you? Why can’t you ask her forgiveness for the wounds you gave her?”

The answer is that I was scared. I was proud. I had wrapped my entire identity around those wounds. I couldn’t help but hear all of her taunts every time I saw a mirror. I took out my own insecurities on other people, the same way my sister did with me. I was a poor friend, always focused on myself, insulting the people I called friends. I believed I was totally unloveable, and so shied away from close friendships, acting crazy and strange so that people wouldn’t want to be near me.  I didn’t know any other way of life. I didn’t know who I would be if I moved on from the grudges.

But God hit me over the head with it for that entire weekend. I had a long talk with a priest, and he told me that the only way I could start to heal would be if I forgave and asked forgiveness. I was terrified  but I went and did it. I begged my sister’s forgiveness a few days later. The seal had begun to crack.

OWCH.

Has anyone ever had an infected cut? The skin grows over it, but the area is still red and sore. How do you fix it?

Well, as you know, the wound needs to be cut open, drained, and cleaned (usually with some painful medicinal alcohol.) OWCH. It hurts like all get-out, but it needs to be done or the cut will only get worse. Now that I had learned that love can help with forgiveness, God wanted to heal me, but healing was going to hurt. A lot. At LEAD, we had a semi-adoration, without the Host, just talking to the Holy Spirit. We were each supposed to pray for a specific fruit of the Holy Spirit, and I chose love. (One day, I’ll explain why I’m so obsessed with God’s love. If y’all ask nicely, I might even get to it tomorrow!) So I prayed, not really expecting much, until David Crowder’s song How He Loves. And, as what usually happens when I hear that song, I start thinking about much God loves me. But, in that moment, I felt so lost and confused and worthless, that I asked, totally rhetorically, “God, how could you love me so much?”

And then, when I didn’t expect it in the slightest, came the Voice.

This is how.”

And I felt like I was hit with a wave. I couldn’t see or hear anything going on around me. All I could see was images, images of everything about myself I hated. I saw my nose, the scars on my stomach, I saw every twisted, tortured joint, and with each image, the words pounded in my brain.

“I love you. I love everything about you. I made this for this very moment in time so that I could tell you how much I love you.”

I was on the floor, flat on my face, sobbing, because I could feel how much God loved me, but I knew I was only feeling the smallest corner. It was like standing in a puddle as you look at the ocean- you feel only the tiniest bit of the ocean, but you can just see how much bigger the ocean is. I was so overwhelmed by this love that all I could do was cry with how beautiful and painful it was. God was opening every infected cut and scrubbing it out with his love, and it hurt so much that I couldn’t stand it, but I still wanted more, more, infinitely more.

And then came one more image. My hands. My hands with the wrist bones in the wrong shape, with the nerves damage that causes them to shake uncontrollably, with the fingers that I had always thought were too short and the knuckles that were too bulky and the fingernails that were too childish and the constant pain from finger bones moving out of place. “How?” I asked God, “How can you love my hands? They’re so useless, so broken. They’ll never do great things.”

Guess what image I got next?

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Those hands. Hands that were definitely broken, torn, in pain, and yet wrought the greatest wonders on earth. Hands that bore the weight of all the world, willingly, with a love so huge that the sacrifice seemed small compared to it. His hands were twisted too, his body torn, for MY SAKE. When faced with that, it was like a wrecking ball crashed through my mind. I knew I had a look of absolute shock on my face and I was staring at my hands and seeing His, and then I crumbled.

I curled into a ball on the carpet and cried like I have never cried before. Me, the person who had always believed herself unloveable, was being forced to see how much I really was loved. (As I’m writing this, I’m actually starting to cry, just remembering.) It was the most exquisitely painful thing I had ever felt, as every wall I had built crumbled, every insult I told myself washed away, and every doubt in God’s love was erased. I was being unmade, and I was desperate to be so.

As the week went by, I kept getting hit with these waves. In adoration, during a homily, during a talk, sitting with my small group, it’s like I was standing in a hurricane, being hit from all sides by God’s love. I cried more over that week then I ever have before. I probably freaked people out, because I was crying all the time, but I didn’t care, for once. I danced, I sang, I talked with people, I was overflowing!

And it’s still happening!

I am STILL in the hurricane. Last night, I was able to spend some time in front of the tabernacle, and just talk to God about what He’s been doing. Healing is a long and painful process, but God is with me for it. I’m still scared that I won’t know who to be, that my identity is so wrapped up in my insecurity and fear that I won’t be able to find the real Tani. But I realize that God is moulding me, forming me into someone strong and faithful, someone who can spread the message of His love throughout the world. I am tired of being the crazy person, tired of being afraid. God doesn’t love the walls, He loves the person behind them, and that’s the person I want to be.

My sister and I are much closer now, and we’ve both grown up and matured up to the point where we are actually good friends, and I rely on her advice for a lot of things. So you, the person who has read this far and is wondering, “can God love me that much, even though I’ve done XYZ? Can He love me despite my ‘flaws?’ ” (Note- They aren’t flaws. They are blessings given to you because God made you unique, and He loves you because of them, NOT despite them!) the answer if yes, He can. What you need to hear, right now, is that you are loved. But because you are loved, the people who hurt you are also loved. If you love God, you love His creations. It’s hard, it’s excruciating at times, but forgive! If you have been forgiven, then they are forgiven too! It is my dearest wish to see you all in heaven one day.

Love to all!

-Tani

Following the Prompting of the Spirit


Lets have a show of hands- how many of you have ever had a Jesus high? You know, you get back from a retreat or a bible camp where your life was changed and your eyes were opened, and all of a sudden the universe seems to be glowing and pulsing with God’s life and you’re so happy and full of joy that you just can’t hold it in!
And then here is where it gets sticky. Because you are now attuned with the amazing spiritual world, you start to notice things. You notice that sad-looking woman in the corner. You notice the disabled kid sitting alone. And instead of brushing it off, like you usually do, the sight fills you with compassion. And something in your heart whispers- “Go. Do something. Say something.”
That, my friend, is the Holy Spirit. He’s always talking to you, but unless you’re already attuned to His language, you usually can’t hear him. He’s easy to ignore. What He is saying goes against everything you know sometimes. What if you’ll be laughed at? What if that person doesn’t want to talk? What if being seen with an uncool kid makes you lose popularity, or friends? HOLY SPIRIT, we cry, I CAN’T DO THAT. I’ll look silly!
And He’ll leave you alone eventually. But what if there was something more to what He was telling you? What if talking to this person is part of a grand plan for your salvation? What if you acting makes the difference for that one person who is struggling that day?
I had this experience today. In the school library, during lunch time, a boy with Down’s syndrome walked in and sat across the room. Immediately, I felt the calling in my heart. “Sit next to him.” As usual, I argued.
Me: I’m comfortable here!
Voice: Sit next to him.
Me: he’s got a video game. He’s happy!
Voice: Sit next to him.
Me: he’s loudly talking to his video game! I don’t want to sit next to him!
Voice. Go.
Me: *moves to a seat about ten feet away* There. You happy?
Voice: No. Sit next to him.
Me: PEOPLE ARE STARING AT HIM. What if they stare at me?
Voice: Let them. This is important. Sit next to him.
Me: FINE. *sits next to him.*
And hey… Paul was nice. Has a huge smile. Loves his gameboy and math, is a senior in high school, plays the guitar and the piano, and has bright green sneakers. The Holy Spirit taught me something today, and gave me a new friend.
There have been a lot of times I’ve felt the need to take action and have done nothing. There have been a lot of times when my fear has made me ignore what God might be saying. I’m kind of sad that it took a Jesus High to finally give me the courage to follow. As Christians, we shouldn’t need a Jesus high in order to be brave. We shouldn’t need a Jesus High in order to love our neighbor as ourselves. We shouldn’t need a Jesus High to be able to listen to the Holy Spirit. We should be doing that already, happy feelings or no! Let us be brave, brothers and sisters! Let us be loving, let us be kind, let us be peaceful, let us be wise, let us be patient, let us be full of every good thing and every virtue- whether we feel like it or not!
This post dedicated to Paul, whose smile brightened a dreary day and whose love of math made even me excited.
Love to all!
-Tani

Vocation, vocation, vocation (Or, God is yelling at me again.)


There are few things that make me prouder than to see my friends express a desire to enter the priesthood or religious life. There are also few things that make me more jealous. See, my vocation and I aren’t very good friends. You are probably sitting there thinking, “ooh, Tani’s about to tell us she’s called to be a nun AHHH!”
Actually… No. This is where it gets annoying. Lets go back to impatience. As I mentioned a few days ago, I am very, very impatient. I plan things out weeks in advance, because I always want to know everything that’s going to happen. I’m a writer (well, duh!) and when I write, every post and essay has a long and detailed plan that it must follow. I keep plans for my week in every detail on my phone (and occasionally written on my arm.) I always need to know what is going on and when and why.
Sadly, God doesn’t always tell me exactly what He is planning. Ok, scratch that, God never tells you exactly what his plan is (he doesn’t have to, he’s God. You’re along for the ride.) All we know is that there is a plan, and that it’s a plan for good things. It’s in Scripture- in Jeremiah 29:11, God says that he “knows the plans he has for you, plans for prosperity and not harm, to give you a hope and a future.”

But hey, impatient Tani over here. Can I have those detailed plans for my entire life, like, right now?
God doesn’t work like that. Now, here’s the part you’ve been waiting for for two whole paragraphs and an aside. I am not called to religious life. But I sure as heck want to be! An entire lifetime of service to God with my fellow nuns and never having to worry about stinky boys again? SCORE.
Seriously, though, I wish I was. The contemplative life, the life of a sister, speaks to me. A few years ago, I was so sure of my vocation to the married life, but then I got sick. One of the effects of EDS is that I will probably be unable to ever carry a pregnancy to term. My body is just too fragile to handle it, and either the baby or I (or both of us) would die. This is deeply painful, since I very much want to be a mom. I’ve been struggling with this, of course- how could God give me a vocation to marriage if I can’t have kids? How can I be faithful to the call of being open to life in my marriage, if the child or myself could die? So I started discerning the single life and religious orders. But I’ve been so full of confusion and chaotic fear that I can barely stand to think on those options. When I think about being married, I feel peaceful… Until my doubts come back to assault my mind.
I’m realizing now, after neglecting this blog for months, that there are a lot of things I just haven’t surrendered. At LEAD, I was forced to share the Surrender the Brownies story (ok, so not forced… I needed to talk about how God changed my life, and I picked that story.) and it really brought into sharp focus just how many things I was allowing myself to fear, how many things I was refusing to Surrender because I was afraid it would hurt more to Surrender than to worry. But you know what I forgot?
(Evelyn, you can turn away now, I know you hate it when I get this way!)
I forgot that God has a plan. I forgot that God won’t let me fall. I forgot that I had told God in February 2012 that my entire life was his to control. I forgot that God had changed my life when I added too much flour to a pan of cheesecake brownies. I even forgot that God loves me! How could I do that?!?
So, am I still worried about my vocation? Yes. But I’m going to try, from today onward, to trust God with it and simply be open to His will. I love the quote by Elizabeth Elliot that graces the top of the web page (under the STB sign!)
“God is God. Because He is God, He is worthy of my trust and obedience. I will find rest nowhere but in His holy will, a will that is unspeakably beyond my largest notions of what He is up to.”
Surrender your brownies, my friends. God has a plan for them.
Love to all!
-Tani (who is AGAIN writing a deep thoughts post at 11:40 at night while sitting on the bathroom sink with an empty toothbrush because she just felt like she needed to say something. Gosh.)

I’ll see you in the Eucharist.


My friend Octavia said something very profound last week, when a group of our other friends, with whom we had been attending a week-long Leadership conference, were preparing to go our separate ways. Octavia said, “We’ll see each other in the Eucharist.”

What did that mean, I wondered? We all go to different churches. We go to different masses, we even live in different states. Don’t we receive different hosts?

So I asked my older brother, who has been to theology classes and knows about this sort of thing, and he gave me a beautiful answer. He said that since God is outside time and space, and the Host actually becomes the body and blood of God at mass, when the Host is consecrated, we are actually part of the same sacrifice that happened 2000 years ago. The Eucharist becomes a point outside of time, occurring only once throughout all time. So, when I receive the Eucharist, I am effectively receiving it with St. Thomas the Apostle, with St. Phillip Neri, with Octavia, with my future grandchildren, and with every Catholic who has ever or will ever live.

In the Eucharist, no Catholic is ever alone. Every friend, every loved one long since passed, every saint and sinner, is with them, adoring and receiving God together. My friends, living across the country (and the world, too- I see you, daily Japanese visitor!) we are together in the Mass! I might miss you, I might miss talking to you, seeing your face, and being able to hug you, but you’re all here with me when I receive the Eucharist!

And now it’s time for a quick detour into my favorite topic:

ISN’T IT AWESOME THAT GOD LOVES US SO MUCH THAT HE WOULD MAKE A WAY FOR ALL CATHOLICS TO ALWAYS BE UNITED WITH HIM AND EACH OTHER?!? LIKE OH MY GOSH. GOD LOVES US SO MUCH. WOW.

Love to all! I’ll see you in the Eucharist!

-Tani

God has a crush on you.


I am a very impatient person. When I want something, I want it NOW. This desire for instant gratification runs very deep in my psyche (and yes, a few of my readers may be aware of just how deep it goes. I’m an impatient Tani.)
Now, I have a crush. For the sake of anonymity, lets call this crush F. Crush F bears shocking resemblance to a book character named Frank Churchill. Look him up. He’s in Jane Austen’s “Emma.” Like Frank Churchill, F is a master at mixed signals. I mean, really, it’s infuriating! And for a Tani who is impatient, it’s doubly bad! Why can’t he just commit to either liking me or disliking me? It’s enough to drive any sane girl mad (and an already slightly insane girl absolute bonkers.) F gets close, then abruptly pulls away, then gets close again, then back away he goes.
But, has anyone ever stopped to think that this may be how God feels? God has a bit of a crush on you. No, really. When you pay attention to him, talk to him, he’s ecstatic! And when you pull away, talk to other gods (like pleasure, power, or prestige) he’s in agony. God is absolutely in love with you, he knows he’s the one who can make you happier than anyone else ever could, and he’s impatient for you to realize that! He’s the one who longs to be that shoulder to cry on, the person you tell your day to, the one who knows every hope and dream and can make them a reality.
F can’t really compare.
My blog is all about surrender. (It’s right there in the title, see?) So even though I have a crush on Frank Churchills evil twin, I’m going to surrender that, too. God wants only what is best for me. Crush F is not what’s best. What is best is letting my heart be totally, completely, recklessly abandoned to it’s creator.
So you out there, teen reader, with your crush on that really cute person who does that really cute thing oh-I-could-just-squeeze-them-they-are-so-adorable… Slow down. Give your heart to God first. Because God is longing for your heart, so that he can fill it up with good things. Let the rest happen in HIS time.
Love to all!
-Tani

The gods of the godless.


Mankind needs religion. From our earliest days as thinking creatures, we have sought to understand the hows and whys of the world, and our place in it, and from these earliest days we have also acknowledged the existence of a power greater than ourselves. Every major religion on earth has a holy book, a deity or deities, prophets and saints, rituals, sacrifices, places of worship, and laws to help them understand this power, this Creator. In this day and age, a new, “godless” religion has sprung up, claiming that they have rid themselves of all old constrictions of religion. However, mankind was made for religion. It’s in our nature to worship something, to strive for ideals. Even Atheists have gods they worship! Let’s do a list! (Y’all know I love lists, right?)

Health-worshippers:

Deity: Vague idea of “health.”

Holy Book: Diet books, calorie counting books. 

Commandments/laws:  Laws include a certain daily number of calories, the buying of only organic or sugar-free foods, the amount of necessary daily exercise, etc.

Ritual: The inputting of calories into food journal, daily long walks, and frequently weighing yourself and looking into mirrors to calculate your “health.” 

Sacrifice: Eating only certain foods, usually nasty (like grape-nuts and sugar-free ice cream. Yuck.)

Prophets/saints: Health and fitness gurus, TV personalities, “healthy” celebrities.

Places of Worship: Gyms, Weight Watcher meetings, sports equipment stores.

 

Money-Worshippers:

Deity: Wealth/Prosperity.

Holy Book: Stock Market reports and paychecks.

Commandments/laws: Make money, no matter who or what comes in your way. After all, you’ll be dead soon anyway. Might as well live happily while you can.

Ritual: Work, make a show of your wealth (even if you don’t have any. Image is everything.)

Sacrifice: Loss of friends, social life. Who cares, you’re rich!

Prophets/saints: Millionaires, celebrities, and your wealthy neighbor down the street with the car. 

Places of Worship: The workplace.

 

Pleasure-worshipper:

Deity: Self-gratification.

Holy Book: Magazines, romance novels.

Commandments/laws: You are the most important person, so make yourself happy.

Ritual: Frequent vacations, massages, buying beauty products.

Sacrifice: None. Sacrifice hurts.

Prophets/saints: Beautiful people, rich people, “happy” people.

Place of Worship: Massage parlors, resorts, concerts.

 

And, in contrast:

Christians:

Deity: A triune God who loves perfectly.

Holy Book: The Bible.

Commandments/laws: Love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself.

Ritual: Mass/services, prayers.

Sacrifice: little mortification for the purification of one’s soul.

Prophets/saints: Um.. the prophets…and…saints…

Place of Worship: Churches.

 

So, you see, everyone worships SOME god, even those who claim loudly that they are free from such beliefs.

Love to all!

-Tani