She said Yes

In the 4th installment of “The Wild Goose” Series by Father Dave Pivonka, I was awestruck at the simplicity and complexity of the message all at the same time- Mary’s Fiat. 

Let it be done to me according to thy word

God’s Will is the center of the universe in our lives. But as I have ebbed and flowed and felt the current of the world and its many waves, I have longed for eternal peace. 

At the tender age of three, I began experiencing communion with God. His light, His love and His gentleness. And I’d like to tell you a beautiful story about how that billowed into a cloud of divine exquisiteness, but it did not. Or maybe it did.

My sexual abuse began at the tender age of 4 or 5. So God’s Presence at three became a great force in my life that protected me. I never doubted that God loved me. In fact, I truly believed that I was created to suffer and die for God. It wasn’t until Jesus entered my life that I learned that there was someone else that already did that for me.

In group, we talked about those ways that God became present to us even amidst the abuse. Many women recounted stories of horror that included such beautiful light. God was present in so many ways during these times, and I see now looking back that it was a gift from God that I never doubted Him, His Presence or His love for me, even amidst the suffering. I was not one who left Him. He was always such a beautiful part of me. And even my grandmother, God rest her soul, was sent as the embodiment of the unconditional love that I needed. And the thought that I had in the back of my head that weaved in like a thread was this- Why would God create me to be so intelligent, so loving, so creative only to kill me?  There was this sense I had within me, this war I had with my conscience that He wanted me alive. Yet I thought there was more glory in my death, and of course this was a thought from the evil one.

I am 41 years old and still alive.

Father Pivonka said that on his tombstone, he wanted one thing said about him. 

FATHER DAVE PIVONKA,

HE SAID YES

HE SAID YES

I had to take a breath. 

This is acceptance of the Divine Will. Of the things God allows and those He does not. Of the people and places and things He surrounds us with, and those He takes away. Of the acceptance of it all. Of the fiat.

God’s Holy Will is a reaction. It is not forward movement by us, but by Him. It is  responding to His call, a step closer to His sacred heart. It is an emptying of ourselves over and over and over again.

I think about my tombstone often, and have for many years. But these days, I do not think about it in the context of morbidity, but of light. That I know for certain that I was not destined to die, but to live- in His Will and in His divine light. 

Father, 

Help me to embrace those three Holy words

SHE SAID YES

Watch the Series, The Wild Goose here

 

Hidden

There is a part of us that is still hidden. A part misunderstood. A part exposed. But sometimes they are disconnected, separated   far     apart.

The hiddenness of God is a sacred thing. Like a veil over the tabernacle, we cover ourselves internally so nobody can touch us there. And at the center of that tabernacle of our soul is the Lord’s eucharistic love that was created in us and existed from the beginning of time. We may not want to touch our very hidden parts, but He does. For Him, that hiddenness is certainly exposed.

Your Father sees in secret.

Lent is certainly a time of reflection and barren deserts. And while the wastelands are where I find myself most at ease, I desire more than the grain of sand. I desire the molecule behind it. I want to FEEL the sand, not simply touch it. I want the in-between-the-fingers not simply the palms. I want the inside of the grain.

I want my soul exposed in the hot sun of the noonday.

We don’t have to wander through the desert like the Israelites. We don’t have to complain. We can journey and praise and fall on our knees, not asking for quail but asking for whatever God sends to sustain us. Fasting from the whole world and leaving it far, far behind,

Lent is self-sacrifice, perseverance, exposition, tears. It is the big gaping hole inside of your chest. It is the longing for that something more. It is the urge to sin and be saved at the exact same time. It is the walking towards sainthood and the wanting to experience temporal human pleasure. It is the sacred heart of Jesus, the walking it out, the insides of His insides and not mine. It is working out my salvation with fear and trembling for a God who offers me more than this world ever could. It is constant forgiveness for the man who took everything from me, remembering that God offers Him forgiveness too.

How can you get up in the morning and not want to be near Him while the hot beating sun is at your back? Forget cheap devotionals and WWJD bracelets. Isn’t it time to deal with your demons?

Stay still but walking. His voice will ricochet off your soul. The sweet spot of God can only be found in wanting and trial. Come join me in the desert.

 

Shallow

*Please listen to the song as you read

“Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” Luke 1:30 (b)

“Your name spoken is a spreading perfume.” Song of Songs 1:3

The movie “A Star is Born” paints the picture of a deep and painful love, rooted in complications of artistry, song, alcoholism and fame. And although the movie itself is “surface,” that appears to be the point; that we ourselves are surface; that we become numb and immovable based on our responses to the world. And while we may not use alcohol or substances to fill that void and become “surface” we use other things; the portrayal of ourselves on social media, the deep seed of deceit among friends, the veil that exists on our tears. We all, to a certain extent, are the alcoholic and addict portrayed in Bradley Cooper’s character in the movie- we are afraid to live our own truth.

As a sexual abuse survivor, I often find myself in this position- questioning my authenticity, my outsides. Without something to numb the pain, can I be my authentic self? Is Jesus enough?

In the last two months I have found myself before the crucified body of our Lord too many times to count. I try to identify with all the good that came from the crucifixion, but I find myself melting into God’s voice as he calls me intimately into his suffering, and I cannot stop myself from falling madly in love with him. 

You see my love story with God is a painful one, so I can identify with the very “surface” story of this movie which forces me to remember my own unwillingness at times to go deeper with God; to remember the way in which he called me. In horrific pain-no middle, a dark hole, lost.

I am reminded of my love for him in the rest of the verses in Song of Songs

Let him kiss me with kisses of his mouth, 

for your love is better than wine,

better than the fragrance of your perfumes,

Your name is a flowing perfume-therefore young women love you

And at first glance these very shallow and intimate verses appear to be just that- surface and I’ve heard it all before. To a survivor, it may appear to be a line to get me to be physically closer to you, something to reel me in.

But to a survivor who has a love affair with God, it is the realness of the soul. And as much as I write before my Lord’s dangling body when I am on my knees in the chapel, is as much as he exposes me and my pain for what it is- a desire to be real, to be loved for who I am and not for who the world wants me to be.

Why Lord, is it so hard for them to love me? Why Lord is it so hard to even love myself?

Even before the crucifix, I have flashbacks- of him that took my sturdiness away from me and HIM who saved me all on my knees while the candles burn. What a haunting conundrum.

I don’t want to be shallow, I want to be deeply personal, I want to be me. And I cry out to God in my pain and ask Him to make me someone else. Someone else with another purpose. Someone who is not married to the crucifix.

But in those moments as I cry out in desperation to  be another created being, another version, one where the human slate of my soul is wiped clean from the dirty hands that touched me, more than once, I stay perfectly still.

But my story is not an anomaly, is not one, is not only me. Because from that pain comes the flowering of truth, the fighting to be myself, the pursuit of truth and justice in all things; the deeply abiding conviction to stay on the path.

It is  a supernatural overtaking to be able to thank God for your pain and disgust. To not want to find a way out, but a way in. To ask God in the midst of your pain for more, if it means the salvation of one other soul from this corrupt and morally bankrupt world.

And I cry out to my divine lover, kiss me Lord with the pain of the crucifixion so I can feel something real, something other than my shallow pain. Because your pain is meaningful and changed mine into something meaningful. And it is better than wine.

And I am left on my knees in front of Him. No longer wandering far away into the corners and recesses where I can hide, but directly to the cross where He is.