song lyrics

This song perfectly describes what's in me right now. Perfectly

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sbe7VZGbieU

Well sometimes the sun shines on
Other people's houses and not mine.
Some days the clouds paint the sky all gray
And it takes away my summertime.
Somehow the sun keeps shining upon you,
While I struggle to get mine.
If there's a light in everybody,
Send out your ray of sunshine.

I want to walk the same roads as everybody else,
Through the trees and past the gates.
Getting high on heavenly breezes,
Making new friends along the way.
I won't ask much of nobody,
I'm just here to sing along.
And make my mistakes looks gracious,
And learn some lessons from my wrongs.

Well sometimes the sun shines on
Other people's houses and not mine.
Some days the clouds paint the sky all gray
And it takes away my summertime.
Somehow the sun keeps shining upon you,
While I struggle to get mine.
A little light never hurt nobody,
Send out your ray of sunshine.

Oh, if this little light of mine
Combined with yours today,
How many watts could we luminate?
How many villages could we save?
My umbrella's tired of the weather,
Wearing me down.
Well, look at me now.

You should look as good as your outlook,
Would you mind if I took some time,
to soak up your light, your beautiful light?
You've got a paradise inside.
I get hungry for love and thirsty for life,
And much too full on the pain,
When I look to the sky to help me
And sometimes it looks like rain.

As the sun shines on other people's houses
And not mine,
And the sky paints those clouds in a way
That it takes away the summertime,
Somehow the sun keeps shining upon you,
while I kindly stand by.
If theres a light in everybody,
Send out your ray of sunshine

You're undeniably warm, you're cerulean,
You're perfect in desire.
Won't you hang around
so the sun, it can shine on me,
And the clouds they can roll away,
And the sky can become a possibility?
If there's a light in everybody,
Send out your ray of sunshine.

Fragile

This last month has probably been one of the most bipolar months I've ever had. No, I'm not bipolar, but the events in my life this month have led me to experience some of my highest, and then some of the lowest I have ever felt.

For a long time I have slowly been healing-- I recently reached a healthier point of trusting, letting my heart be more free. It wasn't quite euphoric, but on the way there. Well, satan was working on me overtime because he used that and I was deceived, resulting in being devastated.

In different interactions with people, this past month has included being used, tricked, manipulated, lied to, rejected, ignored, and discarded away. Not just once or twice, but several times, by several different people. I'm not claiming complete innocence in protecting my own dignity from the start, but I certainly didn't lead anyone into it. These situations made me feel like garbage, like I had no worth. Communication was cut off so I couldn't even express my thoughts, defend myself, or vent. This I think is the most frustrating thing. When one feels like they have no worth, its very easy to slip into living as if they had no worth. Lack of motivation, bitterness, sinfulness can very easily be consuming.

And to those of you who have ever done something like this to someone, if at all possible, I beg you, ask forgiveness from the person you have harmed. Please dont think lightly of the situation because the hurt and pain goes way deeper than you may think. The relief to their hearts, possibly a sense of justice, could be obtained and there might be a taste of mercy.

To anyone who is currently in a situation where they may be lowering someone's dignity-- Stop it. Be a bigger and better person, and stop being so rotten. The more you tear down someone else's dignity, the less human you are. (This is not meant to be insulting, this is actual theological truth. We become more fully alive and fully human-- meaning, the full integrated person we are called to be by God, the more pure and “gift” we make ourselves)

I have to say that I include myself in all of these groups, too, although this last month has been a very lonely time, that I haven't had much opportunity to do the “tearing down”... I haven't been as much of a “gift” either.

I'm ticked off. The emotions are extremely raw right now. I'm feeling them very deeply.

But this leads me into recognizing that something bigger is going on. I think God is pulling me closer to Him, and because of that, the enemy is working overtime on me. I haven't handled everything perfectly, but I keep going back, seeking forgiveness, praying for more grace to withstand the purification process.

In attending TOB events this summer, a couple of particular items stood out to me. Things I had been educated on already but my heart was ready to hear them for the first time.

The word is “beauty”.

Children have psychological/sexual (meaning difference of the sexes) development that they gain from each of their parents. It is an absolute MUST that a father allow his daughter to radiate her beauty and is physically affectionate with her. She holds this close to her heart, knowing deep inside of her intrinsic worth and is a member of the pinnacle of God's creation in her femininity.

I never got this. In fact, my dad took me out on the deck to razor my hair off several times (not buzz cut, just short)...I was mistaken for a boy a lot as a child. When I told my parents this bothered me, I was dismissed. My parents had no idea the wounds that were being caused, nor the disastrous effect that could result.

In growing up, I've tried seeking for some affirmation of my beauty in many ways, sinful at first, then in more integrated and healthy ways later as I became aware of the source of wounds and their antedote. It's still a work in progress...but I've come a long way. I still have a fragile heart, but I think that if we all considered everyone around us to have a fragile heart to handle with care, wouldn't be all be a little more tender with each other?

My last note is to anyone-- especially women, who is the victim currently or has been in the past of some kind of using, degrading, abusive, undignified behavior or even just on the receiving end of bitter words:

You are an unrepeatable, unique, beautiful gift from God to the world. You are close to His heart and you are worth more than any money, fame, or other worldly distractions that might be given a fake value on earth. You are master of your own mystery. Cling onto the Lord who created you, loves you, and sustains you. Open your heart to receive the lover (Jesus) who pursues you and is crazy about you, because He will not degrade, use, or betray you.

Even amongst all this turmoil, as the emotions are felt deeper, my senses are more heightened to passionate music (and art, etc) that display their ache for beauty.

This song, while cliché and a little cheesy, has lyrics that nail right on what is going on... and actually, what I heard before reading and listening to the lyrics was the subtle passions in the voice and instrumental licks. (several different versions had different nuances that drew me in).

Bridge over troubled Water

When you're weary Feeling small When tears are in your eyes I will dry them all

I'm on your side When times get rough And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down

When you're down and out When you're on the street When evening falls so hard I will comfort you

I'll take your part When darkness comes And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down

Sail on Silver Girl, Sail on by Your time has come to shine All your dreams are on their way

See how they shine If you need a friend I'm sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water I will ease your mind

My Good Friday

As a music director, I really don't get much of a chance to live a liturgical season as I'm planning and rehearsing music ahead- singing the “a” word during lent and such. Beginning in grade school I formed a bad habit of being on auto-pilot at Mass. When I first had a “conversion” and started caring about my faith in college, it was quite awhile after that I realized I was still on auto-pilot and zoning out during mass not thinking about anything really. I tried to start keeping my brain more active but that habit keeps coming back. It got a little better, and then I got a job as a music director. When one does 3-4 masses on average every Sunday, auto-pilot becomes a survival technique. I hear my cue: “Let us proclaim the mystery of faith:” to which I respond with the 4 chord intro to the memorial acclamation. No thought necessary. It's almost hypnotizing. This habit leaks over to my other masses I play during the week, and even worse, sometimes I discover after the 4th Sunday mass that I haven't really heard the Gospel. I was there, yes, but it didn't stick. The plan was to be “awake” for the first mass of the day, then allow myself to check out. Habits. Ugh.

Also, in the last few years, I've been metaphorically grasping some things rather than allowing God to give them to me as gifts, if only I would trust. (Think the fist around something in a jar and you can't get the fist out because its holding on to whatever...but if you let go, you can get your hand out and whatever else it is).

So yesterday, Good Friday, I decided to take some time with the Lord and remember his passion. Our altar of repose is in our daily mass chapel, so I went in there at 2:45 and said the sorrowful mysteries and divine mercy chaplet, and I forced myself to let the mysteries seep into me. IWell, it worked. My heart grew very heavy, and the tears came. I thought about His death and wounds and pain. I'm not scrupulous at all, but I think God allowed me to feel deeper sorrow at this event yesterday as a gift. I began what I know is going to be a long process of allowing God to love me and letting go of all the things I want. I got an impression, (not a vision/apparition), but just this image Jesus was pouring His precious blood into the tiny little space in my heart that I had just opened to Him.

At this time, when I'm exploring this experience with God and wondering what the source and benefit is, a couple people show up in the sacristy (next to the chapel) to set up things for the evening service. Now, I know that stuff has to be done. Perhaps this was the only time available for them, but it was the hour of mercy on Good Friday. At this time, I'm just thinking there's a couple of Martha's running around in church. It's amazing how easy it is to be judgmental of others when you discover it in yourself.

Anywho, the rest of the day I did an errand and some cleaning at home. I was aware of God's presence...not necessarily peaceful, but weighty. I had planned to work on taxes in the evening, but since God was at the top of my mind all day, decided to go to a neighboring parish for the service. I got there at the end of the gospel. During the homily which didn't have much substance, I read the gospel, and then participated in the rest. While waiting to reverence the cross, I was reading a couple surrendering prayers that I was very present too. I was really present to the rest of the service...didn't fall into the auto-pilot thing too much.

Well, I decided I wanted to go to confession. I had just gone 1 ½ weeks before, but I was wrestling with this “weight” and this intense experience that I needed some healing graces. Now I go to confession pretty often, and I don't have a fear of it. I also know that priests are very busy especially at this time. This evening after the service the 3 priests were hearing the first confessions of all those coming into the church this year at this parish. I found this out by asking the deacon. As one of the priests was walking in, I asked him if he could hear mine after they were done and he said “I guess...”. After they got started I approached a person who was directing people to the appropriate corners and asked if the sponsors were also going to confession and she said no. I asked if it would be ok to go after they were done, and she said she doesn't know if I should because there were some strict orders that only candidates were going that evening. I was disappointed. I can completely respect the situation, but I was disappointed. This also explains this priest's response to me.

Now, things to keep in mind: these priests may have been hearing confessions for hours that day. They've been up in the mornings and had late nights this week, and have another really late one tomorrow with early morning on Sunday. They've been doing penance services all Lent long. I get it- the RCIA sponsors and other Catholics should not be waiting till Good Friday to go to confession. (And I hadn't, either. This desire to go was a new development from the day). Now, if I had persisted and asked one of the priests when it was done, I'm sure they would have honored the request, too.

Here's my one problem with it: What if I was someone who had just decided to come back to church that night for the first time in 15 years? This small experience doesn't detour me, I set a meeting up with a friend tomorrow. I just hope that someone else hasn't gotten turned off by a small oversight like this.

I must end this portion with a toast to my beloved fathers in the church. I love you- and you are awesome. Thank you so much for your service and bringing Christ to the family. God bless you.

So on my way home, the tears start coming again. I get home and start crying..over what, I don't know. It isn't a peaceful or joyful cry, but its not one of pain or self-pity either. I can't seem to describe it. I remember a similar experience on my first awakening, sitting in the church- feeling a weight, feeling God's presence. Maybe he's just giving me a big bear hug so its hard to breathe.

All in all today I've spent about 3 ½ hours in deeper prayer, and the rest of the day with God at the top of my mind. This is more than I've done in the past several years put together I think. I've made efforts with rosaries and things, but haven't really immersed myself into it. I should try this more often.

Lent

Before I start the actual post for today, I wanted to quick recap of Lent. Beginning the weekend after Ash Wednesday, I came down with strep. Fever got up to 105 and I ended up in the ER. This was the sickest I've ever been, and I think I was on the brink of dilusion at times. I could barely move for about 3 days--- taking 3 showers a day and alternating the fever meds to keep it from smoking. I was dizzy for a full 10 days that slowly went away after that. The soda thing went out the window when I was sporting a headache with the fever- I couldn't do caffeine withdrawal on top of being nearly dead.

Once I broke the stride, I didn't try very hard to start it up again. Well, I didn't have ice cream, my absolute favorite, except on a couple Sundays, so that was a success. I'd say the near death experience was a good start in offering some suffering for penance this year.

It Worked!

Use to be easier for me during Lent. I gave up Soda no problem. When I needed to fast, I could. However, I use to be able to sleep in on Ash Wednesday. So my first “small meal” wasn’t consumed till after noon.

Now, I have a blood sugar/anxiety/endocrine/glycemic thing going on (which admittedly if I really worked at it I could fix it, or get it way better myself) that has me hooked on sugar. Soda, specifically. Anytime a stress comes up, my adrenaline shoots up, if I’m anywhere near hungry at the time, I have to eat or I’ll get light headed and lethargic. If I don’t have anything on hand, I go unhealthy because its fast and cheap. This leads to more addiction and up and down, etc. This makes a fasting day a dreading day for me. Now, I realize anyone with a health issue is exempt, but I CAN get by with the minimum requirements without any physical harm done.

Here’s the deal – Ash Wednesdays are now long and work filled days for me. Leave the house at 7 AM for First Mass at 8 AM- (leading a mass with a kids choir and band is adrenaline triggering for me as there is a lot to think about). Then, today I had a funeral at 10. This evening I have Mass at 7, with a choir rehearsal after until 9 PM.

Every Lent I start out with the best of intentions, giving up soda. Those bubbles…mmm mmm. Sometimes I don’t even make it through the first day. Today, during my last eating venture of the day, my “regular meal” I took a few sips of soda for the taste and bubbles. I quickly changed over to lite lemonade after that.

Soooo. .what do I mean by “it worked?” While I was sipping on the coke I thought of…is this that great? Was it worth it? I can’t give up bubbles for God who gave His life for me? Why do I hype it up so much? All day I thought about my actions, my fasting, the purpose, offering suffering, what I was really giving up compared to those who do without so much more (Haiti right now). I realized how insignificant these sacrifices were, yet so meaningful in my life. I stretched yet again in mastering myself. I feel right now (even though the day is far from over), that I have more strength and focus. I have more control (the good kind) of my work, my time, and my life. Early on I felt hungry and wanted to eat my next “allowed” portion, but I purposely delayed it a few hours…not only because I knew I had a long way to go in the day, but because I wanted to focus on that feeling of being hungry and pray for purification. Stomach is empty, more room for God.

While some find fasting extremely easy (and thank God for their graces they achieve for us that don’t), I wonder today if I wasn’t a bit like the poor widow who gave her last 2 coins. Such a small feat, but taught me so much.