I Was Scared of Confession

 Another reason I haven't come fully into the Catholic Church is that I am (was?) scared of confession.  I have never been to confession and the thought of laying out all my dirty laundry was frightening and distasteful.  I don't want to remember all my sins.  I've swept them under the "Jesus has already forgiven me" rug and they can stay there.  

It's an excuse.

It's using an evangelical trope to feel justified in another crossing of my arms and digging in my heels.

The real reason I don't want to go to confession is that I like for people to see me as not so flawed.  I mean, people know I sin because we all sin, but they don't need to know the details.  I've enjoyed the high status of "good girl" my whole life!  The very idea of telling a priest, especially a priest I wish to impress with my "good girlness," feels icky.  He's going to see me for who I am!  He's going to know I'm a blob of ick.  He's going to see right through my facade!  

The other day I was scrolling through facebook and I saw an open letter written by a priest in my local diocese.  It was a humble and beautiful thank you note to the diocese and parishoners for the outpouring of love and support as he gets help for an addiction he has.  It blew me away.  Here was a priest with dirty laundry, serious dirty laundry that's being aired out for everyone to know about.  He's confessed it and is seeking professional help and healing, and people are pouring out a flood, an absolute deluge of love, goodwill, cheer, celebration of his confession and ongoing recovery, and support.  

I realized something.  When you walk into and then out of the confessional in the Catholic Church, you are loved.  It is a celebration.

Confessing sins in an evangelical church is dangerous business.  There's outward talk of love and forgiveness, but I have seen the ugly underneath it all.  People are right to hold onto the "I only need to confess to Jesus" trope because it is too unsafe in many cases to be truthful before your fellow congregants.  Even pastors are not trained or catechized to handle confessions of sins.  

Now, I am actually feeling eager to get to confession.  I'm not sure when or how.  We currently have 1 priest for 4 churches in my local area, so he is unfortunately extremely busy.  I may ask if I can do my first confession with the priest of the next parish over.  He is "only" covering 2 churches and may have more time to spare on a lengthy confession.

A Very Embarrassing and TMI Reason I Haven't Become Catholic, Yet

 This is going to be R-rated and TMI.  Just putting it out there.  Skip this if you must.  

I crossed my arms on this one.  I crossed them firmly and declared the Church to be unrealistic, legalistic, and dooming us to failure.  I reasoned that it was no different than rubbing a kink out of your neck.  Touching your own body and experiencing a natural, physical response can't be sinful.  It harms no one.  It feels good to rub my sore feet after a long day.  It brings me pleasure.  What difference does it make if I shift that pleasurable feeling to a different part of my body?  

Besides, no way was I going to tell a strange man (a priest) that I like to self-pleasure (and had no intention of stopping).  

It was unfair.  I tried to stop, before, but my body would respond with a cry for attention, usually at the most inopportune times, like trying to fall asleep.  A quick, pleasurable bit of attention to the hormonal surge would relax me and I'd fall asleep.  How was that sinful?

I could not wrap my head around Catholic teachings on this matter.  

Therefore, I decided to start talking it out with Jesus in prayer.  

In the prayer I (or the Holy Spirit's prompt) asked myself why I self-pleasure and why I want to continue.

My answer was that I feel desirable.  It's been very important to me throughout my life to feel desirable and be desired in a way that completely takes care of me.  That I hold value and worth where someone would want to give so freely to me.  It then dawned on me (or was revealed to me by the Holy Spirit) that Christ desires me.  I am desirable to Him!  He loves me and wants me completely, and the pleasure and intimacy of sexual union (meant for within marriage between spouses)  mirrors the even greater pleasure and intimacy of our relationship with Him through Worship.  

The opposite of masturbation isn't no masturbation.  It is worship.  

I do believe I can learn to transfer that natural hormonal "call" to spiritual fulfillment.  It's going to take serious discipline and practice, but I want to put it all in its proper place.  A part of me still feels entitled to my own body, but I must remember that in being entitled, I am demanding the corrupt and rotting in place of the eternal and glorious.  I must remember that as remarkably pleasurable as an orgasm is, nothing compares to the pure joy and spiritual ecstasy of loving and worshiping the One who desires us more than even our spouses (or ourselves) can desire us.

Guardian Angels

Growing up, guardian angels just seemed like a childhood fairy tale.  It was a cute story to bring comfort, and a bit of discipline, to young children.  In my household, angels weren't really spoken of too much, especially not personal guardian angels.  We believed in angels and that angels could be sent by God to intervene in our lives, but it was still met with a level of skepticism.

Coming out of this difficult period where I'd pretty much given up on all but very basic Christian identity, I felt very empty and confused.  Pretty much all I had left was the Apostle's Creed, and even that was just recited with a feeling of emptiness.  It was all I had left to hold on to of my Christian faith.  

Once the Christmas music had rewarmed my heart of hearts, I decided I need to get back to basics and relearn my faith.  I had the Creed.  What explains the Creed well?  The Baltimore Catechism!  I pulled it off my shelf and started to read.  

Chapter 4 starts with St. Matthew 18:10 ".....their angels in heaven....."  Wait.  What?  I grabbed my Protestant Bible and looked up the verse.  Surely this was just a weird Catholic translation to support their cute guardian angel theology.   Nope.  There it was plain as day.  Jesus was talking about the children and their angels; their personal angels who behold the face of God.  

When I was pursuing Catholicism the first time, I didn't really believe in Guardian Angels.  This was the first time I was really hit in the face with the fact that we do, indeed have Guardian Angels.  So, I grabbed the Catechism of the Catholic Church and read section 336 on Guardian Angels.  Then, I opened up the index in my KJV Bible and explored verses on angels.  I found this gem:  1 Peter 1:12, where angels are concerned about us humans.  

I can't escape it.  There it is in black and white not only in the Catholic Church, but in my Protestant Bibles.  

This is sometime I really appreciate about Catholicism.  The spiritual realm is available to us, to a degree.  Evangelicalism is very earth-bound.  We have Jesus, and for Charismatics, the Holy Spirit.  And while I completely believe in the Holy Spirit and his indwelling in us, I believe that many evangelicals rely on feelings and emotions as their "holy spirit" rather than the true Holy Spirit.  Catholics believe He is ever-present in us, whereas Evangelical Charismatics seem to believe that we have coax the Holy Spirit, conjure Him up, so to speak.  

(As an aside, I remember singing songs in my Assembly of God church asking the Holy Spirit to come, welcoming Him into the church.  It suddenly dawned on me that we are the ones walking into His house.  Church isn't our house that we invite the Holy Spirit into.  Why do we sing songs like that?)

Evangelicals tend to shun anything that "gets in the way of Jesus."  But, Catholicism welcomes all the gifts that Jesus has to give us:  the angels, the saints, Mary!  

When I close my eyes and picture my evangelical walk with Jesus, I see darkness and within the darkness I see the light of Jesus, but that light is concentrated just on Jesus.  It illuminates little to nothing else.  When I close my eyes and think of Catholicism, it is all light, central on Jesus, but revealing all His glory and all who give Him glory.  Perhaps not so ironically, that is why Catholic churches tend to be feasts for the eyes, but more and more evangelical churches are plunging their auditoriums (I hesitate to even call them sanctuaries) into darkness and utilizing special lighting techniques to pinpoint whomever is on stage.  

Now that I've gone off on a slight tangent, I conclude with happily believing I have a guardian angel! 

Time to get acquainted.

PS....I sometimes hear from evangelicals that "angels don't look like that," concerning the often Catholic use of beautiful human-like depictions of angels.  Of course they don't look like that.  The images offered us in the Bible are quite frightening and rather beyond our complete comprehension.  Angels are depicted in human-like form for our benefit (and the fact that they can appear in human-like form.  That is not beyond God to do for us).  

Feeling Drawn Back to Catholicism

 It was Christmas music.

I just felt like listening to some good old-fashioned Christmas music.  I found an old Firestone record from the 1960s that someone had placed on YouTube, popped my earbuds in, and while cleaning, I listened to this vintage mix of hymns and classic fun holiday songs.  To my surprise I found myself crying and yearning.  I knew, then, I was back on the Catholic path.

I gave up Catholicism earlier this year for a myriad of reasons.  But, as the months passed, I became very sullen and disquieted.  My prayer life fell away.  My Bibles sat mostly unopened, unread.  I explored liberalism and liberal thought, Christian feminism, Christo-paganism (if there is such a thing), and even got to points of agnosticism.  Sin came more easily and felt excusable. 

During this time my prayer was for God to not harden my heart and that I was still open to Truth.  Nevertheless, I still felt like my heart was hardening.  

Christmas hymns softened my heart.  The beauty and ministry of the lyrics spoke Truth.  The memories of the wonders and celebration of Christmastime, especially with my family when we were all in one accord celebrating the birth of our Savior, broke down those walls and the hardness that had formed.  I simply cannot live in a world without my God and my Savior.  I simply cannot function without the Holy Spirit.  I can't live an agnostic life.  It's too difficult, too empty, too sad, too bleak, too dark, too exhausting.

Christmas is going to be exciting this year!

Why I Walked Away from RCIA

 Last September I eagerly joined RCIA and jumped right into the coursework.  I started planning my Catholic name, picking out my confirmation dress, thinking out my first confession, and was ready to join the Catholic Church.  By January, I withdrew from RCIA and haven't been in a Catholic Church since.

Why? 

Even I ask myself that.  I was so sure last year that I was going to be Catholic.  I remember when I started this journey a few years ago I wanted to be sure by age 40.  It was going to be my 40th birthday present to myself.  And even so, I still defend the Catholic faith!  So, why did I walk away?

Perhaps the biggest reason is that there are still some key dogmas that I haven't gotten to a point where I can agree with them and commit myself to them.  In some ways, if I were single, I could just go ahead an accept them in faith, anyway, but some of them would be hard to commit to with such a different family dynamic and culture.

If I could be Catholic and not have to actually vow to all of the dogmas 100%, then I could join.  In most protestant churches you can still be a member and not agree with all the dogmas, so long as you at least believe the Gospel message and agree to respect what the church believes and not make waves or argue.

Even as I wrestled with the above, I was trying to slog ahead with the plans to join the Church, but I realized my motive wasn't a good one, and one I had escaped from evangelicalism!  I had Catholics invested in me.  They were excited and eager for me to join the Church.  They had spent their own money gifting me with Catholic things for my journey.  I felt pressure and obligation to join for them.  I realized I couldn't make vows before God to make other people happy or fulfill others' expectations or hopes.  This is between God and me.

The division within my immediate family was difficult to navigate.  I got plenty of words of encouragement that this would be my cross to bear and I got lots of testimonies from others saying that if I join my family is sure to follow....eventually.  These rubbed me the wrong way.  This is the same "prophetic" nonsense I got in the evangelical world.  I followed those paths for years, decades, only to not see the fruit promised, but, instead, wasted years of rot where growth could have occurred if I only listened to my instincts rather than follow everyone else's hoped-for prophecies.  I got those Bible beatings about my voice being deceitful, but I had never once considered until a few years ago that deceit can come cloaked in holy words from others, too, and that the Holy Spirit lives and dwells in me and I can heed Him and discern Him, myself.  

While my husband is supportive, the lack of unity in my family was my greatest sorrow.  As we discuss our beliefs and the paths we've navigated, I've discovered that our married spirituality has been a dictatorship of my own making.  I have to fall back and acknowledge my husband and his walk with God.  We need to discuss this and see where God takes us as a family.  We need time to navigate the spirituality of our family, what is important to each of us and to our unit.  

There was no way I could fully and forever commit to Catholicism while leaving so much broken and undone and unresolved in my family.  I am sad that they've come to see Christianity as mom's dominion and control, and naturally they've bucked against it.  We need unity of some sort.

The big problem, though is that we can't seem to find a church, otherwise!  

We both like more traditional churches, but many of the traditional ones are steeped in legalism or politics.

I blatantly refuse to attend a church that has those horrid purple and blue lights, casual rock-n-roll worship music, and rely heavily on emotion.

So many of the more mainstream classic protestant churches have deeply liberalized and compromised.  Remnant ones are mostly run by elderly women who rule the roost.  

Others lack families and children-peers.  Others are full of broken women from broken marriages and homes and lack strong male peers for my husband.  

We also don't want to travel outside of our community.  We were attending a church outside of our community, and we liked it, but, after years of being there, we just couldn't seem to plug in.  It was very local community-based, which is great, but we weren't a part of that community.  Our schedules didn't align.  

I also prefer a church with organization and leadership, checks and balances.  In my opinion, it is unsafe to join the churches created by a person or a non-denomination.  Theologies and dogmas must be established and canonized, not re-interpreted over and over again by whomever decides to see it differently and preach on it.

Community is important to me.  I don't want my children part of a fringe church that separates them from their community peers.  I grew up being the weirdo in school.  Kids thought I was part of a cult!  I think of how I could have been better connected with friends, seeing them in church and in school and establishing closer relationships, rather than feeling separated.  My kids are already largely friendless because we haven't been able to establish community easily.  

I get encouragement from local Catholics, but I've been attending Mass for 2 or 3 years now and have yet to establish any connection with other youths.  Right now the only offering is Faith Formation, which preps kids for confirmation, but my kids don't want that.  The youth group is defunct.  There are 3 other youth groups in other denominations, but 1 is my old denomination and I do NOT want my kids back in that.  The 2nd is a non-denomination, which gives me pause.  It's too modernistic and unchecked.  The third is Baptist, but I fear the church is too political.  They've had running politicians come in as guest speakers on Sundays during their campaigns.  The whole church is very much about Trump, which is fine for personal politics, but when it gets affirmed in worship it isn't good.  

What's left?  I admit, we feel lost and lonely.  Covid has only made this so much more confusing.  Winter has added even more the burden.  Losing two vehicles has heaped even more difficulties into the matter as the kids and I are stuck at home all the time, now.  

But, I also don't feel like it is my fault or even my burden to bear.  I'm in the midst of the fall-out of what happens when individualism and opinion takes over Christendom.  The constant splitting and rehashing of the Word of God along with marketing churches to try to draw in the apathetic has created a huge mess in America.  Our families didn't survive the scandals and poor catechism of the 60's - 80's, otherwise we would be Catholics.  We are victims of post-modern, post-Christian, constant division, Americanism, revisionism, progressivism, and confusion that has been heaped on the church culture for decades, even centuries.  You can't blame christians for feeling lost when you constantly set up ever-changing mazes for them to navigate.  The path to Christ is singular.  Lord help us. 

Going Crazy

 I'm beginning to think I need more time before committing to the Church.  More toxic evangelical stuff has come to the surface that I need to work out.  I also hate hate hate the disunity in my family.  We were all a family who went to church together almost every Sunday!  We were that family!  Now, we're not and I hate it.  Is it really better to enter Catholicism alone?  Really?  I just don't see that.  All the Catholics I talk to smilingly assure me my family will follow and give examples, but one thing I've learned in my Christian walk is that typical promises aren't always typical.  Following such advice in the evangelical world led us down some nasty paths.  The last time we blindly obeyed we almost lost our house!

Right now, at best, I'd be a cafeteria Catholic.  I love the Church, and I enjoy going there, but to ascribe to everything they say I have to commit to, I'm not sure I can do that right now.  If I was single, I probably could.  Agree or disagree, I could at least just accept the dogma, but I am not single.  I have others to consider who do not share my Catholic path, and certain things clash.  Am I really meant to tear my family down and apart in disagreement over dogmas I'm not even 100% sure I agree with? 

I mean, ideally, they're beautiful dogmas and I would agree with them.  But, in the real world, I can't right now.  The Church just smiles and says to be a Saint and a martyr to them.  Frankly, I'm sick of being at odds with everyone, even myself.

And I don't know which direction to go in.

I skipped Mass today in favor of going out and doing something with my family, and I felt relieved.  We're all so happy!  Then, I hear, "God wants you holy, not happy."  Well, shit.  I've been "holy" my whole life only to always be unhappy and at odds with everything.  I see other people, Catholics, Evangelicals, living great, happy lives, with friends, careers, families, upgraded homes, vacations, charitable donations, volunteering.  And I've barely been able to get through a day well because I'm always at odds.  I can't seem to plug in. 

The lack of support, the loneliness, the no one to talk to is killing me.  If I talk to an evangelical, they'll tell me God's saying to leave Catholicism.  If I talk to a Catholic they'll tell me it's my cross to bear.  If I talk to a secularist, they'll tell me my faith is whatever I make it out to be.

I'm just so mad, so fed up, so frustrated, and all I want to do is live my little life loving my family and working on my character.

I'm sick to death of everybody else's expectations put upon me.  And I'm sick of no matter what decisions I make I face massive stone walls.  

The lack of family unity is killing me.  I hate it so so much.  Some would say I'm making my family an idol.  But, am I really?  Or is this a valid concern?  Because I think it is.  Maybe I'm making my own spiritual preferences and the expectations of firm dogma an idol over my role and service to my family.  

Oh, I'm so unhappy.  I can't even read the Bible because all I hear is everyone else's voices from the pulpits and podcasts.  All the noise!!!   All the opinions.  All the interpretations.

Before the Church there was the Jewish faith.  Before the Jewish faith, there was the Abrahamic faith.  Before that, was just a belief in God.  I almost feel like we have monkeyed it up so much with human interference that some of us have to start over.

Where's HOME?  Where's home for my whole family?  Where's home in Christ Jesus for my whole family?

Maybe it's still in the Catholic Church, but maybe not in the parish church I've been attending.  Maybe it's in something more natural outside of organized religion.  I just don't know.  I really just don't know right now.  I don't want to force us into a church that just leaves us feeling awful and ill-fitting.  And I don't want to succumb us to something opinionated, political, or culty.  I don't want modernism, torn jeans, blue-purple lights, a rock concert and TedTalk.  I want true church and church community.

We talk about how much we love our neighborhood.  We talk about how much our business has grown and our wonderful customer base.  But, a part of me wishes we could move away and leave it all behind and find a place that we can really plug into with a solid, healthy church community.  

I am burned out.  And I hate it because I love Jesus and I want Him, but why do I struggle so?  

In a month or two something might shake my faith and suddenly I'm all 100% into Catholicism again.  Then, I burn out.  

As I get closer to my confirmation date, I find myself withdrawing more and more, though.  Something's gotta give.  Something's gotta get figured out.

I asked hubby some questions, but I didn't get the answers I was looking for.  I don't care what way he answers.  What I mean is that I didn't ask the right questions.  And he's frustrated with my questions.  He won't open up the way I need to, or I'm not hearing him the way he needs me to.  It's just as frustrating.  

So burned out.

I'm sick of it all.  

My Latest Catholic Dream

 Every once in a while I have a Catholic dream.  Sometimes they are just sweet little dreams.  Sometimes they are impactful.  This morning the dream was very impactful.

The beginning of my dream is very hazy and all but forgotten.  I think I was dealing with family members opposed to my Catholicism.  

I found myself at a Catholic Mass, though I can't remember if I went there to seek refuge from arguing with my family, or if I was thrust there by some unknown force.  But, I was there and it was packed shoulder to shoulder with people and people out the door, standing room only. 

When I got there it was towards the end of receiving the Eucharist, so I was at the back of the line walking towards the Eucharist while others who had already received were heading back in the opposite direction.  There were people of all kinds there, but I noticed the nuns.  So many nuns!

There was music, singing of sorts, though not quite typical human singing.  Just beauty.  

I knew I couldn't receive the Eucharist, but I figured I'd go up for a blessing.

In front of me was a young woman with a toddler daughter who was a bit wiggly.  Sometimes, instead of a daughter, she had two puppies, and at one point she had a goat.  I helped her handle the wiggly bunch, whatever they were.

Ahead of us, I could see the priest ending communion and the remainder of the line was being ushered past the alter and through the back of the church.  I heard somewhere that we had to go to confession.  I was a little concerned because I was not yet prepared for confession through RCIA, but I figured I'd either be told it was time to confess, or I'd just have a moment to speak with the priest.

The queue was led through the back of the church where things were stored and then through a school hallway.  All the while, this lady and I juggled the unruly bunch, whether child, puppies, or goat.  We weren't upset about it.  Just dealing with it as it was.

Finally, we turned into a beautiful annex with grand windows that overlooked a beautiful cliff and view.  We had reached my priest's office (I have never seen my priest's office, but I can tell you it doesn't overlook a cliff with beautiful views through magnificent windows).  My priest was sitting at his desk receiving us one by one.  

The lady went in ahead of me, and at this point, she had two puppies.  One went with her while I scrambled with the second wiggly pup.  The pup got away from me and as I went to retrieve it near the doorway of the office, I was met by the woman exiting, talking and making excuses while my priest told her something along the lines of needing to repent or she couldn't come back (couldn't receive the Eucharist).  In my knowing, I understood that she was living in sin with a boyfriend and had other unknown mortal sins.

The firmness of my priest with the woman had me a little frightened, though.  What did he have in store for me?  I entered his beautiful office and started to make introduction so he knew I wasn't prepared for confession, but was willing, though, at that point, I couldn't think of even a starting point!  

I remember turning to look at my priest, sitting in his office chair, leaning back, with his hands folded across the front of his cassock.

The dream just stopped.  Full, sudden stop.  In a moment it was ended, black, silent, unmoving.  And the next moment I heard a whisper in my ear, clear as anything, my priest's voice (he has a unique and recognizable voice).  He whispered, "Peace to you."  

It was so realistic and clear that I shot awake immediately.  I pondered what had just happened and wondered if at that moment he was praying for me.  It was nearly 4:30 AM and I figured that's not an unusual hour for a dedicated priest to possibly be awake. 

I can't seem to make much of the dream, itself.  What was the significance of the packed Mass?  The nuns?  The woman in front of me with her wiggly bunch of changing companions?  That same woman being sent out to repent of her mortal sins?  The audible, realistic whisper.....