Laudetur Iesus Christus!
Nunc et in aeternum! Amen.
Tuesday of the Twenty-Second Week in Ordinary Time
I really am. At least I feel like it. I didn’t go to Mass yesterday, today and I shan’t be able to do so tomorrow. It’s the longest “dry spell” of not going to Mass I have had since I came home from the convent. My whole daily rhythm has been thrown off kilter. For a person who can be quite attached to a routine (it’s related to the highly systematic aspect of my personality), one little change can be a bit of a bother but that’s really no big deal. Missing Mass three days in a row and losing out on that QT I get to have with JC … messes me up. It can also be dangerous as I have learned all too well.
Yesterday’s lack of assisting at Mass was because of laziness (my bed was oh so comfy and such a sultry tempter … “Alllllliieee, stay here, it’s nice and warm and you can sleep a bit longer.” Some times I have no will power. Other times, I have too much. I can be incredibly staid sometimes. Almost to the point of micromanaging emotions and controlling them to an extreme (though I have gotten better about it of late).
I was so lazy yesterday I didn’t even change the vestment on my Infant. He was still wearing green yesterday when He could have been donning His white vestment. I know. How horrible of me.
Today and tomorrow’s lack of assisting at Mass are because I got a new job working for someone at the place at which my father works. It was like “take your daughter to work” day. I need monies. They needed someone to do some computer geek work. I love that stuff. A match made in heaven.
Actually, a match made in heaven would be me working at the Vatican Libraries or the sacristy at Saint Peter’s or teaching Theology at a really solid seminary (like there’s any other kind, right?). Yeah. *drools a little*
But it’s a nice job. Today was training day and tomorrow is a wrap-up. My father works at a business that is a supplier for the automotive industry. It’s really cool. I got a crash course in it today.
The bulk of my job is to work on the layouts of machines and robotics. I have to make sure things are formatted uniformly and neatly. I am basically paid to do image editing and manipulation. I am kinda glad I took Image Editing in college because I could pretty much pick up the work and get into it after my supervisor explained what I was going to do (I knew most of the geeky stuff).
That and I learned how to make random animated images. Really good for making avatars.
It also helped to get the software last week so I could install it and putz with it. The tutorials were good reviews for me though the narrator spoke with a rather pronounced Aussie accent … Scottish would have been niiiiiiiiiiice. David Tennant would have been heaven. Yeah. *giggle*
So that will keep my busy. If I stay on the straight and narrow, I will have this job while I am in grad school, which will help pay for books, tuition, gas, and other incidentals.
So yeah, I thank the Infant of Prague for getting this job. I tell you, ask Him and He will do it provided it is His will. It must have been His will. And I thank Him most gratefully. It sucks to not have a job. It really does.
Don’t even get me started on the percentage of recent college grads who are jobless. *mutters under breath* Hope and change my conservative derriere. *clears throat*
Did I say that? Sorry. Actually, I am not. At all. I knew it the night he was elected that this country was going to go through a much darker period than we had experienced in recent history. I was right: the fundamental right to life is under attack in ways it has never been before, personal freedoms and liberties are being persecuted and abused by the government, and the national debt is diminishing our power and influence in the world (printing money don’t help the economy).
I make no secret of the fact that I am a conservative. I was the “evil conservative” when I was in college. ’twas fun.
Did I mention that I am watching the DNC? It’s painful. It’s penitential. It’s making my blood boil. All this emotional veneer. All this talk of “more opportunities for more Americans” while they are actively campaigning on the platform of killing more unborn Americans. All this syrupy talk about our freedoms and how they ought to be protected while persons of faith (such as Catholics) are being forced to pay for things that expressly contradict their religious beliefs such as abortion, contraception, sterilizations, etc. and marriage is being attacked along with family life.
I hope many souls are ransomed from Purgatory because of this because then at least some good will come out of all this saccharine bs hot air.
Nope. Not conservative at all. Tee hee. Love me or hate me, it’s how I am.
Moving on …
When my father and I were driving to work (he works in Detroit), we drove through a few different neighborhoods some looking more rough than others. A few patches of urban prairie (chunks of land that were once developed with housing or business which has since been demolished or left to rot and nature has begun to re-establish itself). There are huge parts of the city that are these urban prairies. It’s in the tall grass and the derelict buildings that all the crime happens: the drug-dealing, murders, muggings, rapes, etc.. Then when the people still living there try to clean it up (some try to turn them into parks for their kids or community gardens), they get fined and reprimanded by the city for not letting the city do it. Probably something with the labor unions *grumble* … they were doing such a great job before, weren’t they?
As we’re driving through, we pass these neighborhoods, some with houses that are relatively well-kept, others that are bordering on dereliction. You will have a well-kept house here and next door you have an abandoned house that is probably used as a den for squatters or a post for drug dealers.
Once I get past the hyper-abundance of Obama kitsch (disgustingly obvious irony), I am reminded of when I was in Pittsburgh. Sure I was only there for three months, I learned a lot. One of my favorite things to do was our weekly service at the parish food bank. I really enjoyed doing that. A mildly-sheltered little Grosse Pointe girl (though I don’t really fulfill much of the stereotype … my parents saw to that … I use it mostly as a joke now) serving at an inner-city food bank could be seen as me going outside my comfort zone.
Actually, of all the service we did, that was my favorite. We would also serve at the major after school program two of our sisters ran but that got on my nerves after a while. You can only smile and nod so many times.
That and some of the kids made me want to throttle some sense and respect into their heads but they can’t help it to an extent, it’s the environment they are in. I worked with kids from lower income homes. You could always pick the kids whose parents gave a genuine care about their kids, they would help out often when they could and would always ask how their kids were doing. You could also pick out the kids whose parents saw them as a meal ticket, a means of getting more aid, and the result of a one night stand. Those broke my heart because for the most part the child knew it in one way or another and thus it would be kinda demonstrated in their attitudes and how they interacted with others.
I encountered kids who really wanted to study and I loved helping them because they were there to learn and learn they were going to do. Then you had the kids who didn’t want to be there. They would slouch, schlep, and mutter under their breath. I must confess that sometimes when their attitudes would get to me a bit much (and I would have my filter fully-enabled), I would pull out a bit of my dry dry sarcasm.
The sisters apparently liked how I managed the older kids so she assigned me to work with them. She said that I could be a drill sergeant with them. You can bet your bottom dollar those kids were sitting up straight, their feet flat on the ground, and their eyes firmly fixed and focused on homework. I still had a few who were determined to be a pain in my rear. I had another way of dealing with them.
What did I do?
I would say, “Well, if you don’t want to do homework, you sure as heck are not playing on the laptops (they usually played horrible games on them or loaded crap on them that slowed them down with viruses and other bits of techy evil). You will read a book.”
Of course, I got an eye roll and some muttered remark against reading a book pertaining to how boring and uncool it is.
I would then say, “Well, here’s a deal for you. You have 45 seconds to go pick out a book of your reading level and read it for the next 20 minutes or I will go to the shelf, pick one out for you and you will read it and tell me what it was about. Actually, you’re going to tell me what it’s about regardless of who picks. Oh and no picture books, you’re not in kindergarten anymore.”
I was a total bitch sometimes but the sisters approved and it got things done. One of the college students who volunteered with me also liked what I did. If she had some students who were not cooperating, she would send them to me.
Needless to say, they started to behave because you don’t want to be sent to “Sister Allie” (though I wasn’t a sister yet officially).
I guess I have been thinking about my time in the convent a lot lately since it will be a year ago tomorrow or Thursday (5/6 September) that I moved to Pittsburgh to begin my formation.
When I entered, I really planned on staying there my whole life. I was ready to go all in. I hadn’t spent the last ten years discerning, praying, discerning, praying, etc. for nothing. Save for a few warts on the beautiful face that was my time in the convent albeit brief, I don’t regret it one bit.
I miss it sometimes. I really do. I don’t miss the really dark times I had. But those were not the majority. I loved the sisters. I loved the work I did. Every convent I visited for a day or a week felt like home. Those sister showed so much unconditional love. They would invite us to sit with them. They would share stories of what it was like when they were in formation. They always prayed for us.
I have a few letters to write. I have been kinda reticent to write them. But I think I can do it now.
I am not convinced that the convent isn’t for me. I am not convinced that consecrated life isn’t for me. There is still a huge part of me that still thinks I am called to that. I do not think that if I wasn’t called to the life, it would not have felt so right. Sure it may not have been with the Felicians (even though I was really really really hoping it was), but that doesn’t mean that I need to exclude all other possibilities.
I am fighting with the typical things: the distinct reality that I will feel lonely some times, that I shan’t have that special someone to which to come home everyday, no children, etc.. But then it’s almost like He reminds me that if He wants me to do it, He will give me more grace than I could even imagine to live His will to the fullest.
That’s why I am glad I am starting grad school. I am purposely taking the extra semester not just to work on my thesis but also to give myself extra time for discernment. I am not rushing things. If God wants it, it will happen and He will provide everything I need.
I can’t wait until I can go to Mass again. I need that time alone with the Lord. I have really felt off not going to Mass. I don’t understand how people can skip Sunday Mass. It blows my mind. Why do people skip Mass? Why do they miss out on such a powerful opportunity to present to the Lord all that weighs on their hearts and all that gives them joy? He gives us so much grace when we assist at Mass. The Mass reminds us of how much the Lord loves us because at Mass, we are at the foot of the Cross.
It just blows my mind. Such a sublime gift is treated like a non-necessity and even a burden. *facepalm*
Peoplez needz to workz on their priorities.
All right, I still have to pray Compline.
Have a nice night!