Metanoia

The sun was shining on Monday and the temperature was up a little. It was a great day to go for a walk. I even had to wear my sunglasses! I headed over to the elementary school because I like walking through the big field. We are very hemmed in by trees and bushes at my house so I like the open space.

As I walked onto the school property, I noticed a guy sitting on the ground facing the sun. As I walked closer, I saw he was cross legged and had his shoes off. I figured he was trying to get a tan but as I walked by him, I noticed he had his eyes closed and ear buds in. He must’ve been meditating.

When I was closer to the field, I thought I would also sit down and enjoy the sunshine. I wasn’t going to meditate though, I would pray instead, to thank God for this beautiful warm(ish) and sunny day. I didn’t know what to say so I just started singing the Gloria.

I’ve been in a low mood the last few weeks so today was a real treat. I think I’ve just got Covid fatigue. Too much time alone to think. No daily Mass. I complained a few weeks ago about drive-through Mass and Communion but my husband came with me this past weekend and it felt more normal to do this together.

But something else happened that was a turning point regarding this funk I was in. I remembered another time I had experienced this feeling. I had spent 33 days with a group of ladies preparing to consecrate myself to Jesus during the Year of Mercy in 2016. On Divine Mercy Sunday I made a pilgrimage to our neighbouring parish that had a Door of Mercy. I went to confession, prayed all the prayers to receive an indulgence, walked through the special door, and made the act of consecration. I was jubilant!  The next day I woke up and I felt as dried up and wrung out as a sour old dish rag.

For 3 weeks that horrible feeling persisted. I stopped going to daily Mass, didn’t read any kind of faith-based literature, I didn’t even want to go to Sunday Mass. I think I even skipped going one Sunday, convincing myself that I wasn’t feeling all that well. I was so confused – I had done all the right things and yet the Lord had seemingly withdrawn his presence and consolations from me. Then 3 weeks later I woke up one morning and the lethargy and the feelings of doom were gone.

Those are times when faith grows. When things look dry or bleak or impossible, we shouldn’t try to “fix” it. I went to a retreat once and we were told we were not to comfort anyone at any time. Even if you saw them hiding in a corner and crying their eyes out you were to leave them alone. You weren’t even to offer them a tissue. This was very hard to do but very necessary. We did not know what God was doing in them. Maybe this was the first time they had let themselves experience certain emotions about certain events. Rushing in to help was actually going to hinder the work of the Holy Spirit.

I’ve been doing another 33-day consecration preparation over the last month so I’m not surprised this happened to me. This time it’s a consecration to Jesus through St. Joseph. One of the titles of Papa Joe, as I affectionately call him, is Terror of Demons. Seems to me the demons know their days are numbered.