I’ve had a couple of days to digest the diagnosis and either I’ve yet to hit a denial and depression stage or God has given me the graces to fully accept it, be completely at peace with it, and even feel joyful. I’m choosing to believe it’s the latter.
I think a big part of this is because God never fails to speak to me through music or literature. This time it’s been through literature in the form of two books, The Commentary for Benedictine Oblates: On the Rule of St. Benedict by G.A. Simon and The Mirror of True Womanhood by Rev. Bernard O’Reilly. Being recently confined to staying in bed as much as possible (nothing worrisome; just a little relapse that will pass), I’ve had to let go and undo a lot of the negative thoughts that once consumed me when I felt like a burden due to my health and (now) physical limitations.
As a good spiritual father would, St. Benedict spelled it out for me clearly thanks to his Holy Rule. As a Benedictine oblate, it is recommended that we read a little bit of the Holy Rule every day. Thanks to the lovely gift of the Commentary from my oblate sister (Sister Elisabeth), I can dive deeper into it. A couple of days ago, the Rule talked about how to treat those who are ill or unable to do things someone with their full health can do. This part really stuck out to me:
“If the brethren ought to see Christ in the person of His suffering member, the sick one on his part ought to recognize what he is for the others. He ought to ‘consider that it is for the honor of God’ that he is being served. He should lean on this Christ who lives and suffers in him, unite himself to Him and sanctify his sufferings through Him.”
Did I just tear up again, reading it? Yes, I did. I have always felt like a troublesome burden when I’ve been too sick to do anything. And that got multiplied when I lost my eyesight. This was a learned thought. I had people in my life who’ve made me feel like I truly was an unwanted inconvenience when they had to help me when I wasn’t feeling well. My poor friends tried to knock those silly thoughts out of my mind for years but they were so deeply imbedded in my mind and heart that it has taken me this long to finally begin to (slowly) root them out.
I have never thought about it the way it was presented in the Commentary; to think of my need as an opportunity to let others serve Christ. That is, in no way, to say that I am Christ or any other nonsense like that. As the comment stated, I have to think of it as a charitable act in allowing others to help me in order to serve Christ; to do for his little ones what he himself would (and did) do. In turn, I have to humble myself by asking for that help and accepting it as graciously as I can despite the decades of a reinforced message of being a burden to others in my time of need.
That brings me to the aptly named Mirror of True Womanhood. The book was so beautiful. I read the original (not the one that was cut down by about 100 pages) and there was one story that really touched my heart, especially since it was a true story.
Priests in Canada helped take care of and find homes for poor Irish immigrant children who were orphaned on the voyage to Canada. The Canadian (Catholic) faithful welcomed these children with open arms, taking as many as they could despite their own hardships. One particular woman was eager to find a little one as she was unable to have children of her own. She ached for a child to love as her own. Sadly, she got to the church too late; the priest informed her that all the children had been adopted.
Heartbroken, she began walking out of the church when she heard the woeful whimpering of someone. She looked around and saw a small child, hidden away from everyone. As the woman moved closer, she was startled to see a little girl, physically disfigured from illness. The little girl was crying because no one had wanted to take her; her appearance had apparently made others uncomfortable and passed on her. The little girl was heartbroken because she felt that no one would or could love her; that no one would take her home. The woman, while initially taken aback by the little girl’s disfigured face and malnourishment, saw the beauty of the little girl. Opening her arms, she told the little girl she would be her mother and would love her. And she did.
Of course, I’m skipping a lot of details and I’ve not told it as beautifully as Fr. O’Reilly did but you get the idea. And you may be able to guess why this story really hit home for me.
I grew up with the (erroneous) belief that if I wasn’t “perfect” I would be unloved. Again, an unfortunate learned belief. I had to be the perfect daughter, earn the perfect grades, and do what I needed to to be (or seem) perfect. I made a lot of poor decisions as a result but the worst was believing that lie.
When I thought I was meant to be a wife and mother, I thought about how no man would want to marry me because of my health issues. I didn’t voice these concerns until I was in my late 20s. Again, friends tried to break me of this belief but I couldn’t move past it. I thought it was beautiful to see men and women who married whom they loved despite physical conditions and health issues. Even so, I just couldn’t imagine any man wanting to help me carry the cross of my health. Then I met someone who said he didn’t care and wanted to help me carry that cross. While things obviously didn’t work out there, the experience helped start to break me out of that mentality.
Reading the story of the little girl and the loving woman, I was reminded that my future spouse will love me, whether I miraculously regain my eyesight or not; whether I’ll be on medication for life or not. If my future Spouse is Christ, I don’t have to be told of his love for me. I know he will provide for me and love me despite (and even because) of my physical ailments. If my future spouse ends up being a mortal man, I know God will send me a man who will see me for who I am and love me in spite of the additional hardships that may result of my visual impairment.
(side note: I will continue to include both possibilities when speaking of my vocation because, while I’m completely at peace and have my heart set on becoming a consecrated virgin, only God knows if that will ultimately be my true vocation. It wouldn’t be prudent to claim this is my vocation when the decision is not mine to make.)
As I’ve been saying for months, God is doing a lot of work in my heart and this is one of the bigger things he’s been working on. As I’ve said, I’m grateful for my visual impairment and the complicated health journey I’ve had because they’ve gotten me to this place.
If I had remained unusually healthy as I had from childhood into my teens, I don’t think I would’ve gotten here. The pride and vanity would’ve probably gotten worse. Yet through these hardships God has humbled me and continues to (mercifully) make me smaller and weaker because it’s only in this state that I’ll be able to (hopefully) reach Heaven one day.
Anyway, these are just some thoughts bouncing around in my mind lately.
As I said, I’m going through a little relapse at the moment so I’m going to go rest for a little while. I need the nap to help me concentrate on finishing the articles I have due this week.
I hope you’ve all been well.
As always, thanks for listening and God bless.
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