The Vulnerability of Being a (Wannabe) Consecrated Virgin Who is Also Legally Blind

 

I haven’t been blogging as much as I had planned because I’m in full-on writing and editing more. With the May 27, 2022 tentative publication date for novel four, I’m trying to get everything ready. The cover is ready, I just need to choose the title. The manuscript is getting cleaned up and fleshed out a bit more. It’s been exciting and a little nerve-wrecking at the same time.

In all that wonderful busyness, I finally got the official written diagnosis from my neuro-ophthalmologist: I am officially diagnosed as being legally blind. I’ve known of the permanence of my condition since November but I hadn’t heard the term “legally blind” used until last week. It was expected but it also hit me hard.

Saying that I’m visually impaired is one thing. It sounds less severe despite my condition (bilateral optic nerve atrophy) being serious. Saying that I’m legally blind has left me feeling very humbled and vulnerable.

A few days ago there was a shooting in my apartment building. Within minutes there were helicopters overhead and nearly a dozen policemen swarming our area of the building. I don’t know what happened — we tend to keep to ourselves and later find out when neighbors talk about it — but it was just the latest incident that made me think about my safety. (Side note: my mother’s near-assault two weeks ago was the first thing that triggered these thoughts.)

We live in a world that is becoming more and more hostile and violent… and that scares me. As a woman living in a working class neighborhood that often sees women being mugged, it’s concerning. As a young woman who is visually

Impaired, that fear gets multiplied exponentially. As a legally blind young woman living in a not-so-great neighborhood who is discerning consecrated virginity, that fear has hit a level I didn’t know existed. 

While there were safety concerns before — and a big reason why I don’t write or talk about it as much online anymore — it’s become something that is always present in mind. The addition of having the label of being legally blind really put a spotlight on those fears and I can’t look away. 

I think the best I can do is try to learn how to protect myself and rely heavily on my Guardian Angel and (hopefully) future Spouse for that protection. I know that those who aren’t Catholic and/or those who aren’t convinced that consecrated virginity is a legitimate vocation will think I’m absolutely nuts for putting my physical safety in the hands of those who aren’t physically next to me 24/7 but that’s what my reality will be. I can’t get myself a guard or guide dog because I won’t be able to take care of it with my physical limitations. Unless I move in with a roommate, I’m going to live on my own and that adds some vulnerability. But, either way, I will have to trust that I will protected and taken care of, even if I can’t physically see them. 

If God is calling me to be a consecrated virgin living in the world (as I believe He is), I know I will be a little more “public” than what I had wished. I always said that I would walk away from social media and writing to focus on my husband and children but God apparently has other plans for me. 

Away go the plans of a family in a traditional sense. Away go the plans of being the independent woman I’ve always been (which has been an incredible learning experience for me). Away go the plans to be an “urban hermitess”/an anchoress (thanks for the correct term, Fr. DBH). In its place: being a living sign of the Church as a CV. Having a family that goes beyond my immediate home and a Spouse who will make sure I never lack anything. Putting myself “out” there and letting go of my comfortable bubble. All of that is scary but also beautiful. 

Is there another consecrated virgin living in the world who is legally blind! I don’t know. Maybe? If not — if I’m the only one — I hope that my life shows others how beautiful and fulfilling life can be despite this vulnerability. If I’m one of others, I hope I can add to the witness of how we can still serve the Church despite having this physical limitation. Either way, I hope I do a good job despite feeling incredibly unworthy and unprepared for it. 

May God’s Will be done.

Anyway, it’s almost time for Vespers and day two of the consecration to St. Joseph renewal so I shall this post here. 

I hope you’re all doing well!

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! 

What Do I Have to Offer You, Lord?

“What do I have to offer You, Lord?”

This has been the question I’ve been pondering as I prepare to move forward with my vocation discernment. 

Yes, I’m still moving forward and have continued to do so despite having gone through the worst spiritual dryness I’ve ever experienced in my life and especially since my reversion in September 2006. I’ve already written about that so I won’t repeat all of that. Suffice to say, it was an incredible blessing to have endured it, even if I had an tremendously difficult time in it. 

This Lent has been very vocation and “Emmy” oriented. (For those of you who are new around here: Emmy is my nickname and is the name I used online before I began writing professionally). I didn’t plan for it to be this way. In fact, I didn’t have major plans for it because I was still coming out of the spiritual desert and, after discussing the situation with my SD, it was decided to not do too much because of the state of my spiritual life with the time. I have my Lenten penances/offerings in place but I was going to focus on keeping my spiritual life afloat and adding daily Mass to the mix, even if only streamed due to my health obstacles. 

So far, Lent has brought me back to how things were pre-pandemic lockdowns. Daily Mass (I drove to our local FSSP parish; our home parish every chance I got). Divine Office hours. Solid spiritual life. That naturally led to my vocation discernment. I really can’t say much more about that at this time because I don’t have much except that the green light to move forward is on and I’m just waiting for the formal process to begin.

Part of the process in moving forward has included asking what I can offer the Los Angeles Archdiocese and the Church in general. It’s not something that we’re required to ponder but it’s something that I’ve personally had to think about, especially since my discernment and state in life now is vastly different from what it was at the beginning. 

Losing my eyesight and having to radically change my lifestyle to fit my medical and health needs has altered what I can offer. I can’t work as an SLP (speech-language pathologist) as I had hoped and studied for due to my eyesight. I can’t volunteer to do much at my parish. I served on the hospitality committee for only a few months before lockdowns went into effect. Reflecting on that, and how I’m limited to what I can do, has had me thinking about what I can offer. 

I know God has given me two big gifts — “interpersonal intelligence” and writing. I don’t think I’m a particularly good writer (no, that is not me fishing for compliments) but I never lack work or offers to write. I also don’t know why on earth people seek my advice on things but I know that my heart feels full when I’m able to help others that way. I was considering finally taking a chance on getting a Marriage and Family Therapy (MFT) license and even attended a virtual open house at my alma mater before losing my eyesight but that didn’t work out for obvious reasons.

“What can I offer You, Lord?” 

I don’t know the answer to that question. Beyond offering up my physical suffering, I don’t know what I have to offer. I’m not going to stress myself out trying to get the answer, either. Instead of pestering God for a concrete answer, I’m going to focus on taking things as they come and living in the present instead of the future like I’d always done up until recently. 

If God is truly calling me to be a consecrated virgin living in the world as I believe He is, I know the answer will be clear when it’s meant to. For now, I will continue to focus on my relationship with Christ and my prayer life as they will be the most important things in my life moving forward.

Anyway, just a couple of thoughts from this gal. :)

I hope y’all had a lovely weekend and have a great rest of the week. 

As always, thanks for reading and God bless. 

Whittling Down Pride

Ask anyone who knows me: I’m terrible at asking and receiving help. I have to be quite desperate to ask for help. It has all the coloring of pride but part of that has been learned. 

From an early age, I was taught to never ask for help. If I needed something, I had to work for it myself. Asking for help was seen as a weakness… or an opportunity for someone else to later ask for a favor in return. It was all about control. Either I control the outcome or someone else controls it for me. So, as you can imagine, becoming blind was incredibly hard for me. 

I am incredibly grateful to God for restoring enough of my eyesight so that I’m not 100% dependent on someone else for all my needs… but I still need help to do a lot of things. I can’t cook for myself because I don’t have either depth perception or enough clarity in eyesight to not potentially burn myself. Same with using a sharp knife. I can’t pour myself anything because I’ll spill it — either liquid or solid. I can’t get around without help from someone (or my new “white cane”). Obviously, I can no longer drive. The list goes on but you get the picture. 

Becoming visually impaired has been life-changing, and not just because I’ve had to radically change my lifestyle. Yes, I’ve had to learn new ways of doing physical things but the best changes have been (and continue to be) internal. 

I’ve had to swallow my pride and ask for help, something that I’m still learning to do. I’ve had to keep working on undoing a lifetime (so far) of the negative and erroneous thoughts I’ve associated with the word “help.” I’m still a work in progress and I probably will be for a very long time but I’m trying. On some days it’s easier and on other days I’m in the front seat of the struggle bus. 

One of the best experiences and lessons of humility in this area was my trip to Clear Creek Abbey. It was the first (and, really) only time I didn’t feel like a total burden to someone. I had let my Oblate sister (with whom I traveled) know of my limitations and the things I needed help with. I felt embarrassed but I knew I couldn’t do most things on my own. She showed me what it was to love someone as Christ loves us; to help someone out of charity (in the best sense of the word) and friendship. It helped me realize that allowing people to help me was a form of giving as well — a chance for them to serve me as they would Christ, which could be seen as a gift I was giving them in return. 

I’ve only recently received my white cane because my health insurance refused to cover the expense for it… or for  Orientation and Mobility Training (OMT) which I’m currently saving up to pay for myself. In the meantime, I’m going to use it however I can… and try to not let it make me feel weak or ashamed for the help I may need. I hate feeling like a burden or a nuisance to anyone. I especially hate feeling like I’m attracting attention (it’s an anxiety trigger in me) which the cane will undoubtedly bring. But, like I said, I know God will use it to further whittle away my pride even further and give me the opportunity to love others by allowing them to help me. 

Just a few thoughts I wanted to share with y’all on this Ember Friday. 

I hope y’all are having a fruitful Lent so far… and, if you’re not, that the Lord uses this time to help you get closer to the person He wishes you to be. 

As always, thanks for reading and God bless.