The Yo-Yo Creed

I believe that I’m on a string, a yo-yo string. I'm good at letting go, sometimes and most always, to my detriment. It’s good to let go. It’s good to feel the heavy-laden release itself from my grasp. I can bind things so tightly, round up so neatly that I forget the big picture.  What's bound on earth can be loosed, though it's extremely tempting to stay bound up.  It is so easy for me, so natural in fact, that I can hardly notice what I am doing. “Where is God in all of this”, I ask. Indeed, my cry of dereliction goes unheeded. Letting loose; unbinding a strangle-hold that grips and winds itself round about my soul is the prescription needed.

Life’s little challenges often present themselves as gigantic tasks—obstacles barring me from believing that anything is possible. That truthy-feeling is flighty, revealing a false sense of creation.  The truth that I’ve come to know as holy and real is true and lasting freedom. Why? Because I keep getting pulled back towards God every time I wander.  Each time I bind, I feel the tug-of-war to let go.  Back and forth, so it seems, is the rhythm of faith. Doubt, as we know, is not the opposite of faith. Apostasy is faith’s contrarian.

Whether or not string-bound, I am still there holding on. The string cannot break; dirty with years of rubbed playing, but nonetheless strong as the day it was made.

Credo.

I believe.

I am a believer.

I am believed.

Amen.

The Revised Anthonite Vigil Office

Revised and expanded, the Anthonite Vigil Office has been published by St. Anthony's, OPC Press.  You can order your copy today by visiting Lulu.com.

Identity Chaos

"Creation Primordial Chaos," Judy Racz. Oil on canvas

It is a widely accepted phenomenon that out of chaos comes new creation.  At least that's how I find comfort amid the seemingly endless cycles of life.  For me, the struggle for identity in this world has often been fraught with "peaks and valleys," that permeate the ordinary.  The fact remains, however, that creation--even ex nihilo--stirs about constantly.  The birth pangs, the tumult, and the pain are all part of the process.  Who said new creation was pleasurable?  Creation, as we know it, is forever on-going, moving in a dance towards its final fulfillment.  Until that glorious day, we face our tombs each day.  Resurrection, albeit painful as the predessory death was, still affords us hope. 

The quietness of my blog lo these past few months has given me ample time in my own "tomb."  Dark were the days as I swirled about, blowing through chaos like it was only natural to endure.  Enduring one's death is not a badge of honor to be worn proudly.  And now, I can safely say, that the vastness of the heavy stone door is yielding, something new is about to emerge.  New but scarred; alive but keenly aware of death.  Perhaps that's the idea.

While there's absolutely no use in spilling one's soul via the internet, suffice it say that I'm alive and well.  I'm emerging and finally creating again.

Just last week I spent some time with a dear old friend of mine, a Roman priest who has watched me grow from afar.  The power of the sacrament of Reconciliation was the medicine required for my soul--grace worked as it has since the beginning.  Father Joe, never shy with his prayers, helped me break through that damn stone door.  Thanks be to God.  And now we look ahead...to paraphase T.S. Eliot, we return to the beginning and know the place for the first time.

New Dreams, New Years

Dreams come in all shapes and sizes.  Some shatter abruptly, like a soap bubble without any warning.  Others blossom unexpectedly and in odd places.  Either way, dreaming new dreams is deeply human, speaking to the core of our nature.  I once was a big dreamer, but now I settle for the little ones.

I don't make resolutions, I seldom could keep them.  But I will say this about 2011, pray please let this year be good, healthy, and above all bring joy.  I'll settle for joy any day of the year.