There is so much I don’t know. There is so much I don’t know. I wish I could just pour it into my head or swallow it like a pill so I could absorb the knowledge quickly and move on, instead of having to go to the trouble of realizing what I don’t know, finding out what I need to learn, finding the best book on the subject, and reading about it — all of which provide ample opportunities for me to go off on tangents and forget about what I was originally trying to learn, or get bogged down in the learning and never get around to the doing.
I am speaking of the spiritual life: learning to pray, learning to recognize the snares and pitfalls that lie along the way, and above all cultivating the virtue of perseverance. When I read solid works on spiritual growth, so often I find myself without the background knowledge, so to speak, I need to fully grasp what the author is telling me: What is a spiritual bouquet? What exactly is meant by meditation, by mental prayer?
When we are told that we should not be sad, that sadness is a symptom of lukewarmness, what does that mean? Surely it does not mean that we will never experience the emotion of sadness for the rest of our lives — or that we should deny that we feel this emotion when we feel it. Or does it? Or is there another, more restricted meaning of the word “sadness” in writing on the spiritual life? In that context, does it mean something more along the line of “cultivating self-pity” or something like that? Or are we being warned to take sadness seriously, as a warning?
Yesterday I was walking around in a pretty blue mood all day long. (I went through about two years of clinical depression and had a mild relapse a few years later, so I tend to pay attention when I feel the grey cloud settling around me.) Nothing serious, nothing weepy, but still a melancholy day — a mood that seemed most inappropriate for Easter Monday. Part of it was just the natural result of too little sleep (I had not slept well) and too little breakfast. Part of it was the letdown from getting back to the routine after the stress of travel.
But a good bit was just plain old disappointment and sorrow. Sorrow for my friend who had received bad news on Thursday; sorrow for the bad news everywhere. Sorrow over some disappointments we’ve had at our own house recently. And then the disappointment: disappointment at my very sense of disappointment (God has been good to us, what possible right do we have to “want more”); disappointment at my lackluster Lent (my resolution was to make daily mental prayer a priority, with a 50% success rate at best.) Disappointment at my totally lame Holy Week. Disappointment with my laziness, my disorganization, my dirty kitchen floor.
I wish I weren’t so ignorant.
I wish I weren’t so weak.
I wish I would remember that part of the answer is to stop worrying about — to accept and even rejoice in — my weakness and ignorance. But then, I missed class when that topic was covered, too.
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Powerful post Peony, it really spoke to where I’m at too. Hang in there. I’m not sure exactly what mental prayer is, or if mine qualifies, but I know that it is crucial. Good Lent or bad Lent, take this to heart. See this too.
I’ve been recently pondering my small emphasis on God’s mercy; I’ll post excerpts on my blog and add you to my prayer-list tonight.
The sadness that’s a symptom of lukewarmness may be the “sorrow in the things of God” that was traditionally called sloth. If what should cause joy causes sadness instead, that’s a sign not all is well.
But being sad on Easter Monday is not the same thing as being sad because it’s Easter Monday. Bad news and disappointments seem like pretty sensible causes of sadness, even if they do come at Easter.
Though I will say a 50% success rate at best would easily make my personal top-ten list of Best Lents Ever.
Sorry about your sorrow.
One of the items in my examination of conscience is “Do I refuse to give in to sorrow, knowing that it is the weapon of the Enemy?”
Sorrow is just something to struggle against. Try to be comforted by the fact that you have very powerful allies in Jesus, his Mother, and the saints, and the Enemy knows how strong they are, and he will at times try to bring you down. But do not give up the battle.
I’m planning to post on a corollary topic on my blog in the next day or so. Tepidity and self-loathing seem to dog me though I do seem to be picking up the pieces right now.
The sadness that is being talked about is the kind the young man, who was told by Jesus to sell his worldly goods, give the procedes to the poor, and follow Him, had when he realized how much stuff he had. It’s the sadness of realizing you just don’t care that much. Yes, you love God, but you get tired of the thought of doing what it takes to love him.
Practical advice for the blue days? I’ve had the same and my confessor told me that it is not shameful to seek counselling. Also, finding a confessor who you can talk to on a regular basis, a spiritual director if you will, may be of great help in learning to understand all of the potentially helpful things in spiritual reading. They are written in a technical and sometimes archaic language and we need help both in discerning what of our faults are human weakness, what are willful sin, and how God’s grace can heal each.
I’m sorry, Peony, and I know how you feel. I’ll pray for you.
been there, done that. prayers on the way.
Yeah. When I feel this way, I pray — “I don’t know how you can love me, God, but I’m glad you do.”
As someone who went thru along period of extreme melancholy,Ive got to say I feel for you Peony. But these things sometimes have a purpose. Mine was borught on by a girlfriend who decided to leave me. In retrospect, it was the greatest, kindest thing she could have done for me, because it led to my marriage and children. 🙂
But at the time, I was sooooo depressed, that all I did was consume mass quantities of anything containing vodka,cry, and feel sorry for myself. This went on for almost 3 years, until one morning in the shower I realized the futility of my life, the absolute waste of it all, and I made my mind up that I really didn’t care if I lived or died.At that instant, something went *POP!* inside of me, and things started getting better. Very slowly at first, but they did get better.
Now when I get down, I just thank God for what I have, and trust him to make it better. It’s all I can do! What am I going to do, let my depression control me again? That leads to nowhere good. So I think of all the time I got to spend with my Grandmother (for instance), and the fact that she had a good quality of life until she was 100, and I thank the Lord for what he gave me.
Sometimes things like this are easier said than done, I realize that, but this is all I can think of to do.
I think it is unrealistic for people to tell you not to be sad. How can that be? If you were never unhappy, you’d never know how wonderful joy is, you’d never appreciate the things you have.
As far as all this stuff about mental prayers and “spiritual bouquets” goes? I’m with you Peony!
I tried to read “A journey to God, a 40 day retreat with Boneventure,Clare and St.Francis”. I think that was the name of it. Anyway, its still sitting on the bookshelf in my office, half read. It got so boggled down in what could only be construed as “new age semantics” that I got bored and quit reading it. Some people have to make something as simple as praying really hard. If I may be so bold as to qoute Wesley Snipes in the movie ‘Blade’; “some people are always trying to ice skate uphill”.
I wouldnt worry about this either, I dont think St.Francis would have been as complicated as this book was, so dont you be complicated when you pray.
Sorry for droning on and on.
(Hugs Peony)
I know this is an old-ish entry, but I wanted to comment anyhow.
Remember that one of Mary’s titles is Our Lady of Sorrows. I think she, more than any of us, knows how very deep sorrow can be, watching her beloved Son brutally beaten and crucified. There are inevitably things that will make us feel sorrow. Jesus felt sorrow, Mary felt sorrow, and it surely wouldn’t be accurate to say that their sorrow was sinful or wrong and that they should have just ignored it. But both of them always directed everything toward God. When we feel sorrow, what matters is how we respond to it. “Cultivating self-pity,” as you said, would not be the proper response. Nor would trying to make everyone around you sad or things along those lines. What we can do is to unite our sorrow with the sorrow that Mary felt at the foot of the cross, or uniting our sorrow with Jesus’ Agony in the garden. Sometimes there’s nothing we can do to make sorrow go away, especially if it’s caused by situations that don’t seem to be getting better. Sometimes we just have to suffer through these things. It can be so hard for us to bring good out of our sadness and difficulties, but God always can. Offer it for particular intentions you have, for people you’re praying for, or just offer it in reparation for sin and what Christ suffered for us. He will take care of the rest.
Hang in there, & God bless you.