Let Not The Son Go Down On Your Anger

 Like all families, we have our share of happy moments as well as struggles and discord. And like many families, I more often than not selectively highlight the good things while tucking the less-than-noble ones in the back corner out of sight. We all display our best side more often than not.

Last night was one of those perfect storms of frustration and anger which opened up the sky as soon as I arrived home. Feuding siblings throughout the day as well as other derailments had my wife emotionally exhausted and frustrated, nursing the sting of perceived failure as a homeschooling mom.  She started verbally unpacking everything on my lap as soon as I walked in the door at 8pm (which, to her credit, she doesn't do all that often). 

I was wrestling with my own frustrations, having just gotten out of my first class of the semester--a graduate writing class which I was initially looking forward to but now made me question the value of the entire system of higher education. I had decided to drop the class (which I was taking as a non-degree student for personal enrichment at the public university), but wanted to talk it over with my wife but who also had no bandwidth to deal with "something else" at the moment. I unloaded the groceries and we sat down at the kitchen table so she could vent about her day.

I try to be cognizant of respecting my children's right to privacy and so I don't write about them much here on this blog. Suffice it to say that as we were discussing the matter my wife's frustrations at the kitchen table were made well known, and on the tail end of my own frustrations in the classroom that evening, I contributed something to the effect of "well, at the rate he (my son) is going with school, college many not be in the cards anyway." I knew as soon as I said it, I shouldn't have (whether or not it was true or not), even if I meant it in the context that he might be better off anyway given how left-leaning the universities are. Unbeknownst to us, my son was eavesdropping in the next room and heard every word. 

We moved into damage control mode and sat him down at the dining room table, while the two of us continued to wrestle with our own feelings of failure and dejection--both with our children and with one another. We know that only a father who disciplines, loves (Heb 12:6) and so while owning what we said and standing behind it apart from the poorly-spoken comment about college (knowing he had heard every word and heard it as he was not capable of getting into college), we took away certain privileges and told him he needed to start doing his work. We exacted this punishment without a heavy hand, but were firm and for his benefit. He kept his head on the table, and said nothing but if I can surmise, all he heard in translation was "I'm bad. I'm stupid. I'm unloved." 

After he went to his room, my wife collapsed into the living room armchair and attended to various text messages that needed responding to. Not having the chance to discuss the matter, or my own day, I waited five or ten minutes for her to look up. When she didn't, and figuring she was done for the day and checked out (and as many husbands may feel, that I was going to get nothing but leftovers anyway from what little mental or emotional energy she still had left), I put on my boots and headed out for my scheduled 11pm holy hour, inadvertently slamming the door a little too hard on the way out. As I was getting in the car the front door swung open and words were...said. I pulled out and a series of texts coming from a place of frustration and hurt started hitting my phone as I was driving to the church. I ignored them, on purpose, but they seared the heart.

As I entered the chapel a half hour early, I dropped to both knees, turned off all the lights, and took a seat in the back, not feeling worthy to do so up front or even hold my head raised before the Lord.  The large stained glass of the young Virgin was illuminated by candlelight and rose up behind her Son exposed on the altar. I couldn't offer my heart on there because of not only the irreconciliation with my son, but now my wife. "So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift" (Mt 5:23-24). I prayed the rosary asking for help but feeling soiled, and after a half hour or so then lay on the row of chairs and closed my eyes.

As I drifted off to sleep, an image of the Virgin materialized. She was clothed in white and lay submerged face up in water reminiscent of Hamlet's Ophelia in Sir John Everett Millais' painting of the same name. As she sat up from the sea as if from sleep, the light rose with her and her arms extended into the air as if at the Presentation. She was releasing the radiant infant Jesus from her chest into the air at a sixty degree angle. 

As the babe was assumed higher and with each cubit away from her, he aged year by year: from a baby to a boy, to a young man and then a man. All the while, he was extending his arms as if preparing to hug his mother. In the vision, the slow gravitational pull which separated him slowly from her slowed to a halt on the ascent. 

The Virgin, now separated from her child having handed him over to the Heavens, watches as two sets of arms materialize and grab the wrists of her son's extended arms. To her utter and knowing heartbreak, she sees they are not to draw him higher home, but to stake them to this earth. They stretch the right limb taunt and secure his quivering and noble hand to the plank and strike a nail, then move to do the same with to the left. The Virgin is sitting up at the waist on the surface of the sea, unmoving yet keeping her arms extended to embrace her son miles away as he suffers and cries upon the cross. But he is miles away; all she can do is watch. She presented her son as a babe at his birth to the Father in the Temple, and now witnesses him as a man embracing his destiny, writhing in full display above the distant shore. 

I rise from sleep around midnight, my arm asleep and my shoulders sore from the wood of the chairs. My 12am replacement has come to relieve me, and I make my way outside from the chapel into the cool night air. I am hungover from the gall of unforgiveness still in my heart and in the smoldering hearth of those asleep at home. We let the sun go down on our anger, and now it has set in stone for the night. I climb into an empty twin bed in one of the kid's rooms and go to sleep.

When I wake up in the morning, I make coffee and a feeble morning offering. I go to the living room, sit in the armchair; my wife comes down a half hour later, the air tense and in stalemate. Eventually things thaw slowly and we start the cold engine of communication. One by one, we rebuild the broken pillars of miscommunication, of anger, of things said and unsaid. We melt closer, forgive by exercise of the will, and get ready for the day.

When my son came down, I thought all would be well. He would be sorrowful, contrite. I waited for him at the bottom of the stairs to embrace him, make things good. But instead, it was if I was a ghost of Christmas past; invisible, not really there. There was no overt anger on his part as he rounds the corner into the kitchen...just memory. 

As the family makes lunches for the day and go over the scenes from Plutarch on the day's agenda, I feel a sense of great inversion. How many times have I ignored and turned my back in spite, brushed by the Lord on the way here and there, who waited for me there in the armchair to make all things new. And now, as the father who both sinned and was sinned against wanting to make things right but having to relinquish my son to his own timing, his own destiny, I remembered the puncturing of the Virgin of the Sea's heart watching the film of salvation history play out, alone in the theater with no one to turn to in her sorrow. I prepared my heart to accept this restitution as my family gathered their bags to leave; the home felt colder inside than out.

I set up my laptop at the kitchen table, a statue of the Virgin with outstretched arms on the bay window mantle in front of me, resigned to spend the day working under the heavy blanket of matters unhealed for the next eight hours. When I turned to get some more coffee, my son was there at my left side. "I'm sorry, dad" he said. 

"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have said what I said." 

"It's okay. I know."

And that was that. Forgiveness exchanged, the balm of healing applied. I told him to have a good day and that I would see him when he got home. The front door, still shuttering from being slammed so forcefully last night, clicked closed quietly. The sun that had set in indignity was the same sun that rose this morning and the pall that was cast by the sower of tares had been thrown off. Even though the sun hid under the thin grey blanket of clouds and a warm January fog had set in, everything seemed white as the snow.

A Practical Guide To The Works Of Mercy

 

One of the lamentable pendulum swings in the Church today is to associate the works of mercy we are commanded by the Lord throughout scripture to perform with the "SJW" camp. It's not an unmerited reaction: at the small CINO college where I used to work, the Catholic identify of the institution was summed up in a pithy "we do service." And indeed, the students made sandwiches for the homeless, ran clothing drives, and visited the elderly sisters in the convent's nursing home.  All good things that we are called to as Christians--and all things a secular humanist could do just as well. 

So what makes Christian charity different? Love undergirds everything in the true Christian life, as the Apostle writes, "let all your things be done in charity" (1 Cor 16:14), while charity comes from a pure heart, a good conscience, and an unfeigned faith (1 Tim 1:5). 

In the fourth chapter of his epistle to the Ephesians, St. Paul also writes of the different gifts of the Spirit given to the brethren:

"And he gave some apostles, and some prophets, and other some evangelists, and other some pastors and doctors, for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ" (Ep 4:11-12)

Likewise, the Church lays out for us once again a "both/and" charge to do the works of mercy-- corporal and spiritual. Whereas a Social Worker (who may or may not be Christian) may devote his or her life to the former as a matter of vocation (in the secular sense), a devout Christian may see his work primary as spiritual in nature: praying, making reparations, etc. And indeed some cloistered religious do devote their life to this noble calling 24/7 (Carthusians, Carmelites, etc) 

But for many of us lay persons living in the world, I think a both/and approach is appropriate for our state in life. The degree to which we are able to serve and in what capacity given our constraints varies, but I do think many of us do structure our lives in a way which precludes much "space" for charity--the way we often given "from our surplus, not our need" (Mk 12:44) when God calls for first fruits. As Catholics, we know we are capable of structuring our lives to put "first things first," i.e., the Divine Law, as evidenced in making Sunday Mass and the laying fallow of the Sabbath a priority regardless of our schedules and circumstances. But do we also prioritize the practical exercise of charity to evidence our faith in the same way?

It is harder to do when we see the exercise of charity and the works of mercy as an obligation (which it is) rather than an opportunity and means of blessing for both giver and those that receive it. This is not always easy to do, especially for those who tirelessly work in fields in which their exercise of this work goes unappreciated and taken for granted. But this, too, is a blessing from the Lord, who sees in secret and repays in kind (Mt 6:4). And the Lord makes this a practical opportunity, for "when thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, and the blind; And thou shalt be blessed, because they have not wherewith to make thee recompense: for recompense shall be made thee at the resurrection of the just (Lk 14:13-14).

So, we are called to exercise charity, to perform the works of mercy--both corporal and spiritual. So, what are they, and what are some ways we can live them out in a concrete manner? See below (note, in the interest of brevity I may share some links of things I've written already on the particular work of mercy from past posts):

THE CORPORAL

Feed the Hungry

Give Drink to the Thirsty

Clothe the Naked

I am grouping these three corporal works together because in the hierarchy of human needs and in our modern society, they can be performed simultaneously. At our old parish, we would pack snack bags with granola bars, fruit, sandwiches, etc with bottles of water and do a "walk around the block" before Mass so our kids could hand them out to the veterans and others who seemed like they could use some nourishment. We also encouraged them to pray beforehand and ask the Holy Spirit to "send someone" into their purview to receive this offering.

In recent years we have pulled back on donations to formal charities and instead have also prayed for opportunities to exercise this in a way that hurts a little more with particular families in need. In more than one occasion we were made aware of large families in which the husband had been laid off, or injured; in many of these instances the families were not destitute but it was also harder for them to qualify for aid (the "fall through the cracks" dilemma) and we wanted to simply ease the burden for them. In every circumstance so far, they were eventually able to get back on their feet and use the money for groceries, mortgages, and other necessary expenses. I try to write the check quickly, for an amount bigger than I would rationalize if I was using my head, send it off and forget it was ever written. 

Visit the Imprisoned

This work of mercy, too, can be a literal application. It took me a while to get clearances at our local county prison, but once I did I made monthly visits to both large groups of men (to read the scriptures to them out loud) and to individual inmates. Not everyone may be able to do this, but in lieu of physical visits there is always the opportunity to be a pen-pal to someone who is incarcerated. What's nice about this is even busy homemakers or working dads can carve out a half hour to write a letter and all it costs is the price of a stamp. When was the last time you got a letter in the mail? Isn't it nice?

Shelter the Homeless

Sheltering the homeless can be taken literally, but for many of us with families and small children, it is not always prudent and takes discernment. However, one thing we have done as a family is host families of limited means for a few nights whose child with cancer needed treatment at a nearby city hospital when Ronald McDonald house was full. We did this through this organization, which is not religious but nevertheless provides a good service for those who may not be able to afford hotel accommodations. 

Visit the Sick

This afternoon my daughter and I paid a visit to an elderly woman in a rehab facility. This is really low-hanging fruit that really cheers the neglected Christs in places like this, many of whom do not have families to visit and suffer from crushing loneliness. We brought some flowers from the yard in a jelly jar and a Miraculous Medal on a chain as a small gift. We stayed and chatted for about ten minutes total. It's also a nice thing to do with your kids, since the elderly seem to really love seeing them. I got the contact from our parish secretary who knew of shut-ins and those unable to get to Mass. It wasn't complicated, took no special skill, and took all of half an hour. 

Bury the Dead

This is one where many us, unless we are undertakers, may not do. We have a funeral to go to in a couple weeks, but are of course not actually doing the burying. But we did have a Mass said for the deceased, which is a great spiritual benefit to their souls. 

THE SPIRITUAL

Admonish the Sinner

See my post Why (and How) To Admonish a Brother In Charity. This can be a very hard work of mercy, and takes discernment, but may save his soul in the end. 

Instruct the Ignorant

I had a co-worker mention that she went to Mass recently because her son was going through CCD and doing his first Penance. I knew she didn't go to Mass regularly, but mentioned she received Communion. I mentioned (as charitably as I could) that the Church expects us to go to Confession at least once a year, and always when we are in a state of mortal sin, and that not attending Mass every Sunday and HDO is a mortal sin. I emailed her a detailed examination of conscience and told her to read it and encouraged her to join her son and make use of the Sacrament of Penance. She admitted she is a "bad Catholic" for rarely attending Mass outside of Christmas and Easter and never going to Confession. But at least she can't claim ignorance now.

Sometimes we need to pop people's bubble as a spiritual work of mercy, regardless of how uncomfortable it is and how badly they have been catechized so they no longer have any excuse. We can do it charitably, but we need to do it when we have the opportunity, or we will be judged just as harshly as a sin of omission.

Counsel the Doubtful

Comfort the Sorrowful

My wife is good about being available to women with things like a kitchen table and a cup of tea. She's a good listener, and a good encourager too. Many people today are struggling with doubts and anxiety, and we can encourage by making time and space for them in invitation. As St. Paul says, "encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing" (1 Thes 5:11) And when we encounter someone who is downcast and hurting, we share their cross, mourning with those who mourn (Rom 12:15). "Love and hurry are fundamentally incompatible. Love always takes time, and time is the one thing hurried people don't have."

Bear Wrongs Patiently

See what this looks like in my post By Your Words You Shall Be Condemned, where I cover some of St. Ambrose's treatise on the matter. 

Forgive All Injuries

Forgiveness can take really deep work, and grace is necessary for it to be perfected. See Forgive Quickly, Before You Change Your Mind. If we do not forgive our brother, our heavenly Father will not forgive us. So it's important!

Pray For The Living And The Dead

See my article The Tender Favor of Indulgences for more on this efficacious and much neglected work of mercy.

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We will be judged on our tangible charity (Mt 25) and true religion is caring for widows and orphans (Ja 1:27). But it doesn't have to be complicated! As mentioned above, a lot of these are low-hanging fruit, and don't take any special skill--just charity, which is a gift of the Holy Spirit given to anyone who asks (Mt 7:11). You may also find you do not hit all of these, and that's okay too. But it's also okay to "try out" different works to round out your character as a Christian. These are just some suggestions, and I only share what we have done not as any kind of merit, but to give some tangibility and examples of what one can do. The perfect is the enemy of the good. As one of my friends is fond of saying, "half the battle is just showing up!"

The Novus Ordo May One Day Save Your Life

 One of the struggles I have as a traditionally-minded Catholic is to be on guard as David was when he prayed, “Who can discern his errors? Forgive my hidden faults. Keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me. Then will I be blameless, innocent of great transgression" (Ps 19:12-14). Catholics who have such dispositions towards Tradition may find themselves on the high ground in some areas, while completely blindsided by others. I think this is especially the case when it comes to a critical spirit, and pride--dangerous and pernicious sins that burr into the crevices of our spirit and make a home without us even realizing it. 

While I believe the Holy Father's inquisition against Traditionalists is unjust and targeted, it is similar to the way stereotypes operate--there is always a degree of truth in the broad-brushing. Are Traditionalists one-hundred percent "Triumphalist, self-absorbed, Promethean neo-Pelagians?" as Pope Francis has uncharitably referred to them? Of course not. Are there degrees and elements of this in many of them? For sure. Are traditionalists greater saints than the rest of us? God only knows.

I find myself slipping into this kind of subtle nose-snubbing, sometimes without even realizing it, separating traditional Priests and congregants from N.O. priests and congregants in a kind of unconscious "A-list" and "B-list", Marines vs. Army, etc. I think part of that is that I am using the wrong canon (ruler) to measure with. While I believe that the Extraordinary Form is as a matter of objectivity more beautiful, more reverent, and more fitting liturgy for worship than the Ordinary Form, this is not a silver bullet for transforming oneself or one's family into saints on it's own. The canon in this sense for us should not be "which liturgy is more reverent" or "which group of congregants has it right," but "to what degree am I being made holy myself?" 

I have written before about various reasons why, were push come to shove as it relates to the implementation of Traditionis Custodes, assisting at the SSPX is off the table for us. This is a personal decision that every individual and head of household needs to discern for themselves, what line they will and will not cross were the Latin Mass to be taken from them. I have wrestled a lot with this, and do not take these matters lightly. While educating myself on the history, their canonical status and Archbishop Lefebvre himself, I have grown more sympathetic and understanding towards the Society. 

But there are still elements which give me pause, despite those who seem to gloss over such issues. I've already written about the marriage issue here. But there is another more general disposition being that many Society priests will provide council against attendance at the New Mass, even when there is no traditional Mass available:

"When it comes to attendance at the Novus Ordo Mass, SSPX priests do not hesitate to tell faithful that they should not attend that Mass under any circumstances, even on a Sunday and in a place where no traditional Mass is available. It is a very clear and straightforward matter. 

The purpose of attending Mass is to give glory to God and to sanctify one’s soul. But we hold that the New Mass is not pleasing to God and so dishonors Him. As such, to attend the Novus Ordo Mass is to go against the very purpose for going to Mass. Instead of honoring God by attending Mass, one is dishonoring God by doing so. "

If one takes this matter of not fulfilling their Sunday obligation lightly, they should prayerfully reconsider what is at stake here. For this counsel no longer becomes one of preference or objective reverence, but elevates a beautiful and reverent illicit Mass above a potentially banal and unedifying Mass which is nevertheless both valid and licit. In other words, in the example of when one is traveling, there is no excuse to forgo Sunday Mass even when there is no Traditional Latin Mass and the Novus Ordo is the only option. Canon 844.2 states:

§2. Whenever necessity requires it or true spiritual advantage suggests it, and provided that danger of error or of indifferentism is avoided, the Christian faithful for whom it is physically or morally impossible to approach a Catholic minister are permitted to receive the sacraments of penance, Eucharist, and anointing of the sick from non-Catholic ministers in whose Churches these sacraments are valid.

There is no doubt or argument that the sacrament of Holy Eucharist is valid when confected in Society chapels. There is also no doubt that whenever necessity requires it, the Church permits the faithful to receive these valid Sacraments. I think the issue here is the license the faithful take with "as true spiritual advantage suggests." That is, the argument being made is that the Novus Ordo is so egregiously offensive to God and so spiritually damaging to the formation of faith, that this constitutes justification for the regularization outside of emergency situations to take refuge in a SSPX chapel. In other words, the exception is now made the norm. In my own humble opinion, this is a tenuous reasoning that carries with it spiritual perils that may not be immediately apparent.  

Society priests were truly worthy of admiration during COVID when chapels were kept open as some diocesan churches shuttered in response to the virus; they recognized the "essential nature" of spiritual nourishment, whereas many diocesan parishes may have regarded it otherwise. Of course, this statement is easy to make in retrospect, when the reality is that two years ago was that no one really knew the degree of threat which the virus posed and how it was transmitted; pastors were making best judgments with limited information. To that end, a little grace would go a long way.

And yet, some saw this valiant witness of the SSPX during this time and took up a home there. Some (as one young father I am loosely acquainted with) even seemed to adopt a semi-Donatist mindset of regarding Novus Ordo priests who shut down churches and withheld sacraments during this period as apostates.  

All this being said, it is wishful thinking that the New Mass (which comprises over 98.5% of Masses celebrated in the United States) will go by the wayside. The reality on the ground is, most of your sacramental exposure--for better or for worse--will be proxy to a so-called "Novus Ordo priest."

I wrote in The Hunger Years that,

"A time is coming when people will seek absolution for their sins and find, not a priest unwilling to open the door, but no priest at all. A time is coming when people will notice they are hungry for the Eucharist, for the Holy Mass, for a blessing—the very things we take for granted today—and they will go away hungry because there is no priest to feed them. Faithful Catholics will want to have their children baptized, want to get married, and will find waiting lists months long. The churches they knew from their youth will be museums. Those in mortal sin will beg for a priest to hear their confession and will not be able to find one. Those possessed by demons will have no recourse, and exorcists will be so overwhelmed they will have no choice but to turn people away.

We are entering the mission era of the Church in the United States. You would be wise to prepare yourself now with spiritual food for the journey, with the Eucharist, daily Mass, Confession—because the hunger years are around the corner. Avoid mortal sin like the plague. Fast and pray for the Lord to call up mighty warrior priests who are not afraid to go into the fray. Get your own house in order so you can evangelize as a living example to others. Be open to life and welcoming of children. Instruct them well and be intentional about passing on the Faith and living it out. Encourage your sons to become priests if it is God’s will for them. Catholicism is not like other Christian denominations. No priests means no Mass. No Mass means no Eucharist. No Eucharist means no life within you."

When I get kind of liturgically and spiritually snobby without realizing it, I'm sometimes reminded that the vast majority of people in need of grace do not have ideological dogs in the fight. For some, they may have been away from the Church for decades and are just one confession away from salvation. For others, they may be Christians of a another denomination and have an insatiable appetite for the Lord's flesh and blood. Others may be on their deathbed and desire the grace of Extreme Unction to find a final resting place. Or, they might simply be like my Latin Mass attending friend who was going through a hard time in her life. I curtly tried to spare her one night when she asked where she could attend Mass in our area on a Tuesday, but was humbled at her response; "No TLM tonight; just the Novus Ordo," I said. She told me plainly in response, "Friend, I need Jesus."

There is an incredibly moving scene in Padre Pio: Miracle Man (1:47-1:51 for the particular scene) in which Padre Pio faces his Vatican persecutor during his final hours and illuminates the priest to a memory in which he closes the door on a soldier seeking absolution; the priest acted in fear and dereliction of duty, and the soldier was killed, unconfessed. The hardened priest is filled with shame, yet Padre Pio reassures him, "I absolved him for you," (by way of the miracle of bilocation). Not only that, but the saintly Padre Pio humbles himself before this priest to seek absolution at his hands in his final hours of life. Two priests--one saint, one sinner--embracing through the grace of the Sacrament.

I am relying on grace to preserve my family should our diocesan Latin Mass no longer be an option in the future, and I pray for discernment. It is not easy, nor is it easy to defer in a spirit of obedience our preferences when we are more inclined to dig our heels in in a spirit of defiance. I don't know what the right answer is, and continue to wrestle with it. But I do believe that God is faithful and will not abandon those who seek him with a pure heart. He will give us the grace we need on the day we need it, the way He provided daily manna for the wandering Israelites, even if it doesn't come in the form we expect. If we have the gift of the liturgy in the Extraordinary Form, thanks be to God. If God provides grace by way of the Novus Ordo, I do not want to spurn that grace. 

Take my life, Lord. Take my preferences and melt them in the refining fire of your love. Take my pride and my understanding and purify it for your glory. Take the impurities in my intentions and siphon them out, so that I am left with nothing but a contrite soul wholly dependent on you to live. Filter out a critical spirit and supplant it with pure gratefulness. Give me no more than my daily bread, that I may not curse you in hunger, nor forget you in satiation. Do not abandon me to the netherworld, but unite me with your servant so that I may pray, "Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy holy spirit from me" (Ps 51:10).  

Forgive Quickly, Before You Change Your Mind

Don't underestimate God's propensity to make use of the Nuclear Option in our lives to set us straight.Were it not for what I call a "grace grenade" bouncing into my room and blowing out the windows of my life as I knew it, I'm not sure what things would look like today. 

I had met a photographer while biking across the country in the summer of 2003, fallen in love, and gotten engaged a few months later. In some ways, she was a little wilder than my usual "type"--a talented artist, covered in tattoos and who was featured in tattoo magazines, who trained at a South Philly boxing club, trading exotic dancing in a strip club for bartending in an iconic 15th Street dive bar--while in some ways we were too much alike. 

The wedding was set for September of 2004, the deposit was put down at the reception venue, the guests were invited, the shower gifts received. I remember many times saying to myself and others, "relationships are supposed to be hard. They're supposed to be hard." The truth is, we weren't right for one another, and I was an incredible burden at the time, my depression thick as a fog. 

We kept pushing on, gritting through, but truth be told the whole thing needed to be blown up. And blow up it did under the stresses of circumstance. Her photography career was taking off on a national level while her best friend was diagnosed with and succumbing to cancer. Meanwhile she was juggling dealing with my mental state and, I presume, having doubts about her ability to endure me for the rest of our lives together. At one point she confessed she had gone home with someone from the bar and contracted an STD in the process. 

The news, of course, cut like a knife. I could tell she was sorry, but it was also a clear sign that she wanted out; this would not be something we would be walking back from. The hurt was so weighty, it felt like at the time, that when I held her sobbing in my arms it was clear I had no natural strength to forgive this infidelity. I was numb, but I made an act of the will to turn it over to the Big Guns to do the forgiving for me. After all, had I not played the whore with the Lord, been his Gomer, and been washed clean by his own blood? Who was I to withhold forgiveness for such harlotry? It was the same Holy Spirit who at the basement hardcore show when I was 17 had "cut me to the heart" and convicted in my sin who then stepped in and gave me the grace to forgive my fiancee, with no residual of contempt or bitterness. I simply forgave her, washed away by mercy, and let her go. It was one hundred and ten percent grace.

God doesn't keep us from making mistakes, especially those of youthful folly. But in lobbing this "grenade of grace" that derails our dearest plans, sending downed trees into one trailhead so that we take another instead, he gently makes use of our tangled circumstances for His glory and our good and brings us to the place He wants us to end up. He's not opposed to opening up the arsenal and using whatever is needed--tragedy, sickness and death, betrayal, crisis--to break our hearts of stone, reshape us by grace, and bring us home.

Pastor Wang Yi spoke in this video of how he approaches police interrogations (for living the faith in China) which I think speaks to this technique of backing yourself into a corner on purpose before you can second-guess, and "settling matters quickly" with your adversary (Mt 5:25). 

"When I'm being interrogated at a police station, I put myself in a 'spiritually safe' situation...I say everything front. I immediately arrive at the point of no return... 

When you are facing pressure because of your faith, don't give yourself to much wiggle room. Articulate the most controversial point as early as possible, and then with Esther say "If I die, I die." It is often those who say "If I die, I die" who live in the end." 

 That relationship of mine twenty years ago was a disaster, and it needed to be blown up. And of course he not only blew it up, but sent the wife he had been reserving for me years as a provision years later. 

But I never forgot that experience of God's mercy for my then-fiance through the conduit of my own broken spirit. I willed forgiveness, and in the daze when I felt myself losing consciousness and going down, turned it over to Him to exact it. It was bigger than I could do myself. I backed my will into a corner of forgiveness, because if I did not right then and there, I would doubt I ever could. I would brood and fester, reliving the hurt, licking wounds and lording it over her for years to come. 

Instead, I just....let it go. Let the Lord deal with the mess. I'll do my part--"forgive those who trespass against you..." just as I had been forgiven my trespasses. I had no dogshit of resentment stuck to the soles of my shoes, no anger.  God had wiped everything clean in my heart after that moment. In that, I myself healed, while never forgetting that that kind of power does not come from the human heart, but by grace.