March 8, 2008

• Bleeding Heart

  

  -A Spiritual Exhale of Sorts-

  Most of you long-time Xangans who have been visiting for the past few years know about the Mystery Girl Saga, particularly the very end of it (if not, see entries dated August 27th, 2005 through September 11th, 2005).

  As maje_charis knows, my heart was very deeply wounded by the events of that time, but for the most part the wounds have healed. But still there are times when I cannot help thinking about what happened, cannot help but feel that deep, heavy sadness and longing for that kind of love again, to be able to completely lose myself in the loving of someone.

  I wish it were just as easy to fall in love with Jesus Christ; one should think it would be! With all he has done for me and considering his love for me already, one would think being in love with him would be easy. But I am so easily distracted, especially during these busy days when all manner of things distract me. I’ve felt so distant from him for the past couple of weeks, and the further away I get from him, it seems my heart is torn open little by little until the wound is fresh again.

  I have prayed for almost three years that the wound might be healed, and back during pilgrimage (entry dated May 19th, 2007) I thought it had closed up. But more and more I am able to recognize that this is not the case, that my heart has not completely healed and is still hurting. It has been a source of sadness and frustration for several months now, but recently I’ve been thinking about it in the context of my vocation.

  I’ve thought about the broken and pierced heart of Jesus, how he is always depicted with his heart open and bleeding. I’ve thought that perhaps he wishes my heart to remain broken and wounded, lest it be closed off from him, because whenever I wake up in the night from a sad dream about those days long past, or when a day passes that is heavy with sad memory, I always turn to him.

  These thoughts came up as I was sharing the story of how I walked to Mystery Girl’s house to tell her that I loved her. A group of college students from Creighton University were here, and one of them was talking about another novice who had broken up with his girlfriend to pursue his vocation, leaving her behind and broken hearted. The student asked if I had done the same and I said it was a tale long in the telling, so the rest of the students asked if I would tell it over dinner. So I did, and as a few of them cried I was amazed at how, of all the events in my life, this fateful weekend three years ago this September is by far the most clear in my mind. Not one of them said a word during the whole hour or so that I spoke, and that night I couldn’t help but dwell further.

  It has always amazed me at how fascinated people are at the tale. It doesn’t  have a happy ending; the romance is quite tragic. Perhaps it is because the story is true? Regardless, retelling it always helps me to confront the wound it left behind, and I am always given a new and tiny insight into things. It kind of reminds me of praying the Sorrowful Mysteries, or reading about the passion and death of Christ in the New Testament, rereading and rethinking the same sad events over and over and gaining small insights through the grace of God. I often wonder, too, if Christ, because of his passion and death, doesn’t carry the sadness of those days with him always, as I do? He still bore the wound in his side when he appeared to the apostles, so I suppose that his heart still bore the spear’s mark.

  I suppose my great hope is that, given time, the on-and-off sorrow of this “passion” of mine will eventually fade into some glorious rising, my own “resurrection” of sorts. When I think of vows in August, for example, my heart is filled with great consolation and joy. Perhaps then, after putting my very heart and soul on the altar of God, Christ will fill it and I will be healed. But, perhaps, Christ would bless me with an equally wonderful grace, of keeping me with him on the cross to suffer, as he kept my dear friend St. Gemma Galgani. Either way, I suppose that there will be bountiful graces so long as a continue to turn to Christ for healing.

  It is not easy, though. Those who know me best know that I greatly admire the Gift of Eve in this world. I have striven and grown in admiring them in all chastity, thanking God daily for the beauty he has blessed the world with in Woman. But having wanted to be a husband and father since the age of 12, the very natural longings in my heart for a woman’s love does not go away, and I don’t expect that it ever will. Every time I meet another beautiful woman it is very bittersweet for me, reminding me each time what it is I am being asked to give up for Christ, though I am thankful for the gift of such a meeting as well as the opportunity to be challenged in holiness. So far, God has heaped grace upon me to strengthen me against temptation and unchastity, though I am not always perfect. Yet despite my imperfections, God does not abandon me. If only, though, I could love Christ with as much heart, as much longing and as much dedication as I love the women in my life; what a grace this would be for me!

  So I do what I can, to turn my thoughts and longings toward Christ in the hope that, by grace, my whole being will turn naturally with little or no effort on my part. If I recall daily that the beauty of woman serves as a reminder of God’s greater beauty, so long as I honor the most glorious of his creation and cherish it as a great and wonderful gift, perhaps in time I will be healed and I will not so often drink the bittersweet waters of memory and instead enjoy the fresh waters of pure joy. Time and grace will tell and, until then, I must continue to strive for holiness.

  And as I thank God, I also thank all the amazing and beautiful women in my life; you are a constant inspiration and source of grace for me. May you never, ever forget the splendor, dignity and grace that God has blessed you with, that you are all mirrors reflecting his greater beauty. What a gift! God bless and keep all of you all of your days.

  • 7:39 pm
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