A Love of Suffering

 Suffering is a great grace; through suffering the soul becomes like the Saviour; in suffering love becomes crystallised; the greater the suffering, the purer the love.

-St. Faustina

Suffering is such a powerful force. Such a beautifully powerful force.

In recent days, I have been hospitalized for digestive problems. Pain in my chest and abdomen, amongst a sea of other symptoms, of which I will not bore you with details. Through all this time though, I find myself trying hardest to focus on my Lord: in particular, His Passion. Strange, how even dark moments, God is able turn my eyes Heavenward.

Our modern society is one of comfort. We do not like pain, sorrow, nervousness. We cannot stand waiting, even short whiles, for the most important things. We can't comprehend how much good can come from embracing our Crosses, instead of hiding them away, and hoping they never rear their ugly faces again. It saddens me deeply.

Very little in this life is learned without suffering, at least in some small part. Be it boredom in a classroom, taking time away from our joys to study facts and things we care little about(though often have much greater value than we imagine!). Or it may be something much greater. Every heartbreak I've ever experienced has taught me something about myself, about God, and about my future spouse. At the time, these experiences seem unfair, but God has a habit of turning something broken into something so much better than we could have imagined.

How does one gain control over their base passions? Suffering through self-denial.

How does one learn humility? Suffering through humiliation.

How does one learn to forgive? Suffering through betrayal.

More than a mere teaching tool, suffering can be incredible purgative. It purifies our roughness, and our follies, if we allow it. Metal cannot be purified but by fire; wood cannot be made smooth but by the coarse work of the sandpaper. Do not pass through suffering without learning what you can from it.

Suffering can also be redemptive. Oh, that my greatest suffering would assist those in need; that I may bear their burdens so that they may see God's grace. Our suffering can be offered as prayer: and no mere one at that. Suffering offered as prayer is more powerful than any other force imaginable. Suffering offered as prayer is to unite our love, with God's. How many demons and forces of evil in the world tremble each moment a Saint undergoes suffering?

It is through suffering and death that the world's redemption came. It is through suffering that Christians throughout the ages have borne witness to the pagan masses. It is through suffering that we will be able to stand before the Throne, washed clean of our transgressions and inequity, and hear our God say, "Behold my dearly beloved son, in who I am well-pleased."

Remember: love is sacrifice.

-Gabriel

Sealed by the Spirit PT. 1

(Sorry for the time it's taken to write this post. Life has been full of twists and turns lately, and God has led me all over the place. He is thoroughly wonderful)

It is done! This Easter, I was welcomed into the Catholic Church. Full Communion with Christ, and with Rome. Praise the Lord. It has not been an easy journey, nor a short one, but I wouldn't trade my experiences for the world. Let me tell you about the last nine months.

When I began the Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults (RCIA) in September, I was nervous, apprehensive, excited, and wary all at once. I had heard some negative things regarding the program(some of which panned out to be true), but also had heard of it's history. A tradition dating back to the earliest Christians. The ex-protestant in me resonated greatly with the latter. Impatient as I was(and still am), I wished that I could receive Christ in the Eucharist, receive the Sacraments, and begin my new life as a full-fledged Catholic immediately!

But such was not the will of the Lord.

Begrudgingly at first, I began attending my Wednesday night RCIA sessions, with Gregory Watson as my sponsor. His life was filled with an unending stream of questions from me. Everything from Genesis to Revelation. From particular local custom, to the oldest facets of Canon Law. I confess that I learned a good deal more from him than I did from the RCIA program(at least in terms of pure knowledge).

I spent hours reading more and more about every dogma, every law, every piece of Truth within the Church. During this time of prayer, my own inadequacies became more and more apparent to my eyes and to my heart. I was deeply convicted by my sin, and by my former life(the effects of with I struggle in many ways with even to this day). But through God's grace and providence, my life was irrevocably changed for the better.

This is just the beginning of my journey. What happened next, I will save for next time.

Yours in Christ,
-Gabriel

Here I Raise My Ebenezer

When we last spoke, I told the story of how my journey back to faith began. Years of wandering in my own personal wilderness had led me, tired, weary, and weeping to the doors of the Church. I needed change, I craved peace. I longed so much for true, pure love. In that moment I knew the old adage was true.

"You'll never truly say, 'Grace is all I need', until grace is all you have."

In that moment, grace was all I had. I wasn't entirely sure what it was, but I knew nothing else in my life mattered. I sat and praised God in all His glory, taking in the world from a perspective I had never seen before. My soul rejoiced and my heart was at peace for the first time in what seemed like eternity. I knew I had to change, and give up the sin in my life. Return to the fold of God and allow myself to do His Will in my life.

I went home, broke up with my long-distance girlfriend (another long story). I hopped on the internet and messaged one of my dearest friends, Gregory Watson. I told him to sign me up for that fall's RCIA (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rite_of_Christian_Initiation_of_Adults) program. I had studied the Catholic Church for a number of years, and knew that is where I would find God truly and literally present.

Greg delighted in my return to faith, and began to make plans for that coming fall.

Though newly excited by my faith, old habits died hard, and I allowed Satan to disrupt God's work in my. I after some failings and hard times in my life, I turned to the drink again, all culminating in me waking up on the floor after drinking most of a 40 of vodka in a few short hours. I had sufficiently snuffed out any work God was doing in life(or so I thought).

Many years back, David, Andrew, Greg and I went on an awesome, God-filled camping trip. I felt that this summer, we all had sufficient time off, and money to partake in the same again. Sadly, Dave couldn't make it, but the other three of us ventured north, and enjoyed some time together. After much driving, getting lost, and setting up camp in the dark, we settled into what would become one of the greatest weekends of my life.

A good deal of time was spent in fellowship: talking, cooking, swimming. Knowing he would be in no fit state to wake up the next morning for Mass, Greg looked up the Mass times(for Saturday evening) for the nearest Catholic Church, and directions on how to get there. He invited me along, and I decided to go with him.

For years, whenever I entered a place of God, I put up spiritual "Blinders" to stop any supernatural activity (in essence: to deaden the nerves of my soul). But as we entered that Church, I forgot, and by the time I had genuflected, and kneeled in the pew, I was in tears. I felt God so strongly within me. Greg wondered what was wrong, but quickly realized the wonder that was taking place.

The Gospel reading for that day was very appropriate:


²² Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. ²³ After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone, ²⁴ and the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.
 ²⁵ Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. ²⁶ When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear.
 ²⁷ But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”
 ²⁸ “Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”
   ²⁹ “Come,” he said.
   Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. ³⁰ But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”
 ³¹ Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”
 ³² And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. ³³ Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” 

Since that moment, my life has truly turned around. As I journey further into the Catholic Church, I find such astounding joy, overabundant peace, and the serenity I longed for. My story doesn't end here, I think.

I think it is just beginning. :)


-Gabriel

Though I Wander

I've been thoroughly blessed in my life. I don't admit that often enough, but I am. Very richly, and very truly. Praise God.

I'm not sure I have any readership left (not that I was overflowing with it to begin with), but the time has come again to write down my thoughts. Whether read and enjoyed, or lost to the antiquity of the Blue Nowhere, only time will tell.

"Eric," you ask, "what has changed in your life since you last spoke?"

Dear reader, I tell you: everything.

My last legitimate post was in March of 2009. I wrote a poem talking about the peace of God. In the same vein, it was a way of saying that God's role in my life was finished. I knew of Him, understood (or so I thought) Him, but I had grown weary of this slowly unfolding plan. I wanted my own life. I was so sick of the pain I had been through. He took away the woman I love from me. He caused upheaval within my family, and amongst my friends. All of my "mature" life I had served Him, and this was the thanks I received? No thank you.

I began to travel. And to drink. A lot. I moved in with some friends, and lived recklessly for a few months. Looked for work on and off, played a lot of World of Warcraft. My days consisted of very little substance. I grew more and more complacent.

I started exploring this country of ours (Canada, for any international readers out there). Flew to Alberta, BC, Manitoba. Enjoyed indulging in whatever I could, because I felt it was my birth-rite.

I wouldn't go into great detail, but until April of 2011, nothing changed. I spiraled further and further into a schizophrenic nightmare.

But one day, that all changed.

I had decided to meet with an ex-girlfriend: Elizabeth. I think I dated her before the conception of this blog... I am too lazy to check, so bare with me. We had a few drinks at a pub in Guelph, and headed out on our merry way to wherever. As we exited the pub, and made our way down the street, I saw something that destroyed me.

My ex, Sarah. Walking with my ex, Crystalyn. While I was walking with my ex, Elizabeth. My mind, snapped. My heart, shattered. I nearly collapsed on the spot. I made my way to the fountain nearby and sat on it's edge. I raised my eyes, and the only thing I could see was the most beautiful thing I'd seen in a long time.

Church of Our Lady.

I crawled the steps, wept and prayed. I wanted God in my life again. I knew I needed Him. But would He bring me home after everything I'd done? The answer to this:

Yes!

My life didn't turn around immediately.. but that's a story for another day. Thank you for reading.

I love you all.

-Gabriel