All That I Have Written Is Straw. . .

Meanderings of a Catholic Devout

Celebrating Holy Week

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Holy Week has officially begun and I’m very excited! Except, at the same time, I am starving.  I have committed sins, for which I am not yet contrite about and have not received the Eucharist in many weeks.  There’s a penance service at my church on Tuesday night, but I can’t bring myself to confess what I’m not sorry about (nor should anyone).  And each Sunday, when the Eucharistic minister lays a hand on my shoulder or forehead and says, “God bless you,” I can’t help but die inside a little.  I say brief prayers to God when I return to my seat, asking for his Mercy and forgiveness at my coldness of heart. 

How is it that I can see what I’ve done, how my sins offend Him, and yet, I’m not contrite?  How cold-hearted can I be?  I’ve cried a lot lately because I’m not sure why I’m not sorry.  I am having a hard time grasping the fact that I won’t be able to accept the Eucharist at Easter if I can’t be contrite.   I keeping asking myself, “are these sins worth it?”  And I know the answer, but I commit them anyway.  It’s unreal how evil whispers in your ear when you’re so close to God.

I finished reading Immaculée Ilibagiza‘s Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust this week.  And wow!  What a wonderful testament to the power of prayer!  But here’s a couple of excerpts that stuck out for me, given my own trivialities:

The wardrobe banged against the door.  I covered my ears and prayed: God, please.  You put the wardrobe there. . . now keep it there!  Don’t let them move it.  Save us, Lord!

My scalp was burning and the ugly whispering slithered in my head again: Why are you calling on God?  Don’t you have as much hatred in your heart as the killers do?  Aren’t you as guilty of hatred as they are?   You’ve wished them dead; in fact, you wished that you could kill them yourself!  You even prayed that God would make them suffer and make them burn in hell.

I could hear the killers on the other side of the door, and entreated, God, make them go away . . . save us from—

Don’t call on God, Immaculée, the voice broke in.  He knows that you’re a liar.  You lie every time you pray to Him to say that you love Him.  Didn’t God create us all in His image?  How can you love God but hate so many of His creations?

My thoughts were paralyzed.  I knew that the demon in my head was right–I was lying to God every time I prayed to Him. 

And then another. . . after she and the women, still hiding in their tiny bathroom from the genocide killers:

One night I heard screaming  not far from the house, and then a baby crying.  The killers must have slain the mother and left her infant to die in the road.  The child wailed all night by morning, its cries were feeble and sporadic, and by nightfall, it was silent.  I heard dogs snarling nearby and shivered as I thought about how that baby’s life had ended.  I prayed for God to receive the child’s innocent soul, and then asked Him, How can I forgive people who would do such a thing to an infant?

I heard his answer as clearly as if we’d been sitting in the same room chatting: You are all My children. . . and the baby is with Me now.

It was such a simple sentence, but it was the answer to the prayers I’d been lost in for days.

I may or may not blog throughout this Holy Week.  Please keep me in your prayers.  I will keep you in mine.  Have a blessed Holy Week!

Written by Written Straw

March 28, 2010 at 6:39 pm

One Response

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  1. “All have sinned at fall short of the glory of God.” Romans 3:23

    We all sin, but if our love for Jesus Christ is strong enough it’ll help us to want to walk away from the things God does not want us to do. Talk to God. Ask for His forgiveness. And then… begin to change. Place healthy things into the time that draws you away from Jesus Christ.

    Then you can… “grow in the grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” 2Peter 3:18

    Have joyous Holy Week…


    March 28, 2010 at 6:55 pm

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