Being an
adult sucks sometimes. Sometimes I worry. Sometimes I panic. Sometimes I wallow
in hopelessness. Sometimes I yell at God, demanding His intervention.
And He hits
me over the head with answers until I’m ready to stop worrying, calm down, and
listen. When I finally take the time to calm down, the messages are so clear my
initial response is, “Geez, I get it; stop hitting me over the head!”
I’ve been
reevaluating a lot of things this week and been trying to make decisions about
my future. I thought I was evenly torn at best, trapped at worst, and sure that
there wasn’t a good option. Then within 24 hours, at least five different
events or people provided me with the exact same advice, like God was repeating
a message to me in every medium until I listened. Geez, I get it.
It doesn’t make anything easier, effort-wise. I still have to do the work and
make the decisions. But it does calm me down and help me look at things from a
more rational place. I’m not in an abyss. There’s someone (really, lots of
caring someones) to catch me if I stumble. Hopeless causes aren’t in fact
hopeless.
When
thinking about this, I thought about the last time I got demanding of God to
tell me something. When I looked back at my blog, it was almost a year ago to
the day that I posting Yelling at God. The situation was completely different,
but I still reacted the same way. Not praying about it so much as demanding God
to provide a solution, followed by immediate regret of my actions. Is this some
bizarre seasonal outlet? I certainly hope not, although the predictability
would be nice. The biggest motivator for improving my prayer life is that I
definitely don’t want to be repeating this pattern a year from now. I shouldn’t
act this awful toward God in my moments of weakness.
I imagine me rolling my eyes and adolescently saying, “Geez, I get it.” And God
is rolling His eyes and patiently responding, “No, you don’t.”
St.
Sebastian was a third-century martyr. He was born in Gaul but lived in Milan. He was an officer in the imperial guard; it
is said he joined the army so he could defend confessors and martyrs without
drawing too much attention. He encouraged believers to keep their faith as they
were tortured and martyred. When the emperor Diocletian found out that
Sebastian was a Christian in 286, he ordered Sebastian killed. He was shot with
arrows, which is how he is often depicted. However, when St. Irene of Rome retrieved
his body, she discovered that he was still alive. She nursed him back to health.
He went to the emperor and criticized him for his treatment of Christians. As a
result, Sebastian was clubbed to death and buried along the Via Appia. He is
sometimes called the saint who was martyred twice.
St. Rita was born in Italy in 1381.
She wanted to join a convent, but her parents arranged a marriage for her.
After 20 years of marriage, her violent husband was stabbed by an enemy. He
repented before he died because of Rita’s prayers. After her two sons died shortly
after, Rita was admitted into an Augustinian convent. The story behind her
entry to the convent is that when she first tried to go, the doors were locked.
Rita was miraculously transported inside. In the morning when the sisters found
her inside, they couldn’t turn her away and she was allowed to join the order.
