Running In The Right Direction

This summer has been a tremendous learning experience for me. Unlike most students my age, I haven't learned many valuable career skills or interacted with loads of new people; in fact, I wasn't even technically employed. But what I have learned is so much more important; I've learned loads about myself and the way I handle the world around me-even (and especially) when things are most difficult. What I've seen in myself over the past few months certainly hasn't been all good, and, as always, there is room for growth.

Most recently, I have realized the need for stillness in my life. To me, "stillness" used to mean forcing myself to physically slow down, to pull away from my commitments and remind myself to breathe every once in a while. Lately, I've had so much freedom with my time that physical busyness hasn't been a problem. Mental busyness, on the other hand, has become the thing I most struggle with.

I run from God. I run from His love, mercy, peace. I run from the one who created us, loves us more than life itself, and makes me whole. It's a stupid, selfish, and ridiculous way of handling the problems of this world, but I run. Since God isn't here for me to physically avoid, I mentally block Him. Even when I have time to myself or in a small group (which would normally energize me), I make sure my mind is so occupied that there is no room for Christ in my thoughts, much less in my heart. I run from the stillness that allows beauty in.

Enough about me. I have a news flash for you; you run too. We all run at some point-for different reasons and in different ways, but we all do it. We may run through addictions, physical or mental busyness, or a million other avenues. We may not even realize at the time what we are doing, but the wounds we constantly discover in ourselves prove otherwise. Believing lies about ourselves, refusing to give thanks, choosing the easy way instead of the right one....we all run. We all break, we're all wounded.

God shouldn't love us. He shouldn't welcome us back as sinners, shouldn't have mercy on us, and certainly shouldn't love us for our brokenness. It isn't logical. He loves us not in spite of our wounds, but because of them. A love like that isn't logical. It's beautiful.

Among all of the running, one thing holds true. We won't find healing in running from Christ; we find it in running towards Him.

When Love Requires Sacrifice

"Since the Cross of Christ is the sign of love and salvation, we should not be surprised that all true love requires sacrifice. Do not be afraid, then, when love makes demands. Do not be afraid when love requires sacrifice." -Blessed JP II

Love requires sacrifice.

It's a simple enough statement, and seems pretty obvious to most practical people. Loving parenting means waking up in the middle of the night to hungry, crying, or sick children. A loving friendship means not always going to the movie or the restaurant you would prefer. Loving your family members means dealing with embarrassments and petty arguments. Love requires sacrifice in place of comfort. 

It's a simple concept, but one so often forgotten. If we have nothing invested, what motive do we have to continue caring? Think about the last project you were a part of. Did you participate? Did you invest? Did you care? Most likely, you just answered all three questions with a yes or all three with a no. As humans, we are incredibly selfish. If something is bigger than us, we usually don't take interest unless we are a part of that something. Participate, invest, sacrifice, love.

This world makes it so easy to get comfortable. We have air conditioners to avoid the discomfort of sweat, music to avoid the discomfort of silence, all kinds of food to avoid the discomfort of even the slightest hunger. What we need isn't comfort; what we need is discipline. Sacrificing even the smallest things-a song on the radio, an afternoon snack-can lead us into the discomfort of discipline that we so greatly need. A hunger for the physical leads us in a special way to a hunger for the spiritual. In participating, we have something invested in what is bigger than us; we have given up comfort for love. It is no longer about us, but about our part in the Body of Christ. In giving of ourselves, we are investing and we are loving.

May we continually strive to give more each day, choosing Christ over comfort. 

Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray that we may be more like you!