I went to the March for Life which went very well. I'm all rested now.
I've also had trouble finishing things I've started.
Anyway, recently, on Facebook I had my status as:
"I have found that crying hasn't gotten me anywhere.
If it's suffering that I must bear, then, I accept all, Lord."
I'm going to get into that.
Today I'm going to let you get inside my head.
Ever since I was a little girl, I've known about suffering. I remember days where I would complain about something and my parents would say things like: "offer it up". But, usually, that's all they would say. They never really went into much detail.
I still understood the whole concept of suffering. I knew it was an act of love.
All I had to do was look at the cross. I didn't need someone to explain it to me.
During my childhood, I was really into the martyrs. My favorite was St. Joan of Arc.
For me, she was a symbol of strength.
I think because of her, I became a strong, stubborn, and determined person.
But, as I grew older, I ran into obstacles. My life became more difficult.
In the beginning, I didn't turn to God when I suffered. Because of this, I became a pretty angry person. I didn't turn to God until I hit rock bottom.
It took a whole lot of prayer for me to change. And, I wouldn't stop praying until I reached change.
Now? Well, now I'm doing better. My Faith is strong.
My favorite Saint as of now is St. Rita. And I've been reading a book about her.
There's a part that I can relate to. Word for word.
"St. Rita meditated on the mysteries of our Holy Faith, but her favorite
meditation was the passion of Jesus Christ. Many times while meditating on
this great mystery she would fall into a trance, and on recovering her
senses it would seem as if she had been suffering a mysterious martyrdom in
the interior of her soul. She was also very devout to Jesus in the Blessed
Sacrament, and she made as many visits as possible to her parish church. For
she dearly loved to be near that fire of divine love, and never wished to
St. Rita's favorite meditation was always the passion. It's always been mine, too.
When I meditate on the passion of Christ, I find myself aching more than usual.
Every time I meditate on the sorrowful mysteries, it hurts. Like St. Rita, I fall into a trance.
When I do, I don't really feel connected to the world. It's a weird feeling. Every time, I feel the passion happening--sort of. I feel like I'm walking, and I'm restless from carrying the weight of my cross. And I don't "snap out of it" until I feel the comfort of God--(Which is after I'm done saying the Rosary.)
By the grace of God, I have gotten over many hills.
But there are still heartaches that stem from situations I cannot control. I guess these things would be my cross. My "martyrdom".
I've come to realize that loving is not easy. It's not always a sappy and warm feeling.
Sometimes, it actually hurts.
Think about it, if you had a friend that did drugs, how easy would it be for you to love them?
I'm not in this situation currently, but have been. It's hard to watch the person you love waste their life away. Now, imagine it being hard to love...all the time.
Anyway, I feel called to suffer, to love, no matter how hard it is for me to do so, and to be an example.
I've always been fascinated by those that suffer greatly.
I've been tested so much in my life, and maybe this is why.
The journey won't be easy. I am going to need prayers.