I've Decided to Pray Like a Child

As I got through the rest of the Catechism (took me 2.5 years, on and off, but I finished it!) and reading Too Deep for Words: Rediscovering Lectio Divina by Thelma Hall, I became aware of how poor my prayers can be. I'm not saying that I don't do it -- I literally schedule time out of my day to pray at least twice a day (morning and night) -- but sometimes I just pray without really paying attention to the words I'm saying.

Some days (really, most days), I get easily distracted while praying. When I read about how we, as children, pray without really paying attention to the words, I recalled how it was the opposite for me. As a child, I really got into the words in each of the prayers... and this was early as 5-7 years old; certainly before my First Communion at age 8. It was when I remembered how much I loved it as a child that I decided to pray more like a child and less like a busy, distracted adult.

Those who've read the Catechism of the Catholic Church know how beautifully it breaks the Our Father. As I read it, I kept remembering about how I used to pray it as a little girl. This prayer has a special place in my heart because it was my favorite prayer when I was a little lady. Being raised bilingual (thank you, mom and dad!) I learned it in both Spanish and English but praying it in English always sparked my imagination.

When we attended Mass, I would be mesmerized by the words in the prayer. In my vivid imagination, I would break down the prayer, line by line, and actually try to imagine what the words meant... as much as I could understand them at that age. I still remember, 20+ years later, exactly what used to come to mind: sun shining down on grassy hills, full of birds, trees, and (really) the natural beauty God has blessed us with. And then, as the prayer continued, I would imagine bread being broken, forgiving people... basically, whatever was being prayed.

Fast forward 20+ years... it's not the same. My faith and knowledge has grown but I have yet to pray as I did as a child. These days I sometimes rush through prayers because of poor time management. Other days I let other things like text messages, whatever is TV, or online distract me. I'm not proud of it but it's reality. The closest I get to praying as I used to is during the Rosary. I can sometimes very easily visualize each mystery (that vivid imagination of mine still exists though it is only tapped into when I write). The Sorrowful Mysteries will reduce me to tears every time that I can put all my attention on it. But, still, it's not the same.

When I realized all of these things, I decided to revert back to how I used to pray when I was a little lady. There were less distractions... distractions, which, really, are mostly due to technology. Technology isn't bad but we have to be careful with how we use it... especially when social media is involved. Unfortunately, I've used the excuse that a majority of my friends have moved away from L.A./So Cal as an excuse to overuse social media. "I need to stay in touch with everyone," I say as an excuse. No, Emmy. Stop.

I've noticed that pacing/walking around my apartment while I pray helps me focus on the words. I need to physically remove myself from my room (where I have a TV; where I leave my laptop, iPod touch, and cell phone) and I pace around the living room while I pray in the morning. At night, I wait for my mom to go to sleep (she has the best timing and manages to interrupt my prayers on her days off so I've learned to work around her schedule) and then I do my nighttime prayers with more pacing. It's getting easier for me to do this... except now I have to learn how to work with distracting thoughts.

My spiritual director has suggested that I allow the distracting thoughts pop into my mind while I pray. As soon as I figure out why they've come up, I can push it to one side and continue praying. Sometimes these thoughts come up for a reason. It's been working lately (the stopping, dealing with the thought, and then resuming prayers) and I hope that I eventually get the hang of it so I can focus more on the prayers in between distractions. Baby steps, y'all.

I know that these changes I've decided to implement won't happen overnight and that's okay. As we grow in our prayer life, we find out what works and what doesn't work for us. I've learned what causes distractions (technology, worries, hungry, sleepiness, certain times of the day when the apartment building is as its noisiest, etc.) and I've been reminded that using my imagination to visualize the words of the prayers helps the words have more meaning to me. Now let's see how long it takes me to improve my prayers and prayer time. :)

Anyway, this was just something I've been wanting to write about for a couple of days now but hadn't had a chance to because of a busy schedule. :)

Alright... this is my blog post for today. I'm trying to wean myself off of social media and being online most of the day so I should give my laptop a break. Yes, I will still live tweet the USWNT and other football (soccer) matches later today and this weekend. Hello, it's me. ;) In the meantime... I've downloaded two audiobooks and I have a mountain of books to read before the start of grad school so I can stay away from my laptop and social media without much trouble. Again, baby steps. ;)

I hope y'all had a great week and have an equally great or better weekend. ;)

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :D

It's (Spiritual) War!

If you are following me on twitter, then you probably saw my angry tweets about disrespected in my own home, a couple of hours ago. Many of you had no idea what I was writing about, so I'll tell you. I engaged in somewhat of a spiritual war.

So what exactly happened? Well, it all started when a friend of my mother's mentioned that there were these people, who were not Catholic, who would want to pray for my father in hopes that he gets better. I had no problem with it because, though they aren't of the same religion, who am I to say "No, you can't pray for my father because you're not Catholic."? That would be dumb. If you want to pray, pray. I have friends who are Jewish, Baptists, Protestants, agnostic, etc. and I pray for them, especially when they ask me to. I have no issues with other religions... as long as the people don't trash mine. So, I cleaned up the house and was determined to be a good host. I was in a great mood... until the house guests arrived.

From the minute they set foot in the house, I had a really bad feeling. I tried to shake it off and was cordial when I greeted them. It all started off good, I didn't even say anything when they brought out their Bibles and started "preaching" to us. I am secure enough in my faith that I can listen to others without betraying my own beliefs. Then one of the men started talking about how much he loved his Catholic "brethren" but how we were all misguided and how our religion was a bunch of trash because we "don't really know what the Bible says" and because we "don't know what God's true purpose is for us or for Himself." Evangelist say WHAT?! He had the audacity to come into a Catholic household (and he knew it was Catholic coming in) and then trash our religion. The guy did it to our faces, especially mine, too. Are you flippin' kidding me? If I didn't have self-control and if I wasn't trying, really hard, to continue acting like a lady, I would've given the guy a piece of my mind. So I just stayed quiet, though tweeting at this time, out of respect for my parents. Then he asked my father if he accepted Jesus Christ into his life. My dad, trying to be polite, just nodded. I could understand his apprehension, being Catholic. Then the other guy, his son, started talking about how we were going to hell if we did not accept Jesus in our lives -- according to their beliefs. He used me as an example of someone not accepting God in my life, and therefore, if I'm in a car accident, I won't be saved and I'll be spending eternity in hell. "Oh HECK no!!!!" I thought to myself. That's when the really heavy feeling I had in my chest felt unbearable.

They made my father cry... which made my mother cry. I did not cry. I was too angry to feel anything else. I went off to my room where I thought I was going to have a full blown panic attack. I didn't, thank goodness, but it certainly felt that way. As I said when I started re-telling the ordeal, I had a bad feeling as soon as they got there and that bad feeling felt more and more like a giant elephant was sitting on my chest... and had started to gain weight. I began to pray. That's what I do when I feel angry. I'm usually very mellow and I take things very well but these people pushed all the wrong buttons. It was like the whole situation where my classmate called God a *bleep* in English Lit last Fall semester -- times ten. These guys are lucky that I hate drama, and that I don't want to disrespect my parents by being rude to their guests, 'cause "feisty Emmy" would've come out and I'm very blunt when I'm that upset. I would've used my words carefully but I would've verbally kicked their butts out of my house.

So, as I said, I went into my room, closed the door and began to pray. Mom came into the room twice but I purposely kept myself in prayer because I didn't want to snap at anyone, especially my own mother. The second time she came in, I was kneeling down, under a picture of Our Lady of Guadalupe (the same one that's been with me since I was a little girl) and I was saying "Please, help me calm down. If these people mean no harm, please make me understand that." I guess my mom mentioned that I was praying, and was in the middle of an "Our Father", when the guy apparently took my parents and started praying over them. And it wasn't quiet... it was yelling. He was screaming, probably at my mother, to hold on to him and to not let go of him or God... blah, blah, blah. Look, I appreciate you wanting to pray for my daddy but you will NOT disrespect me in my own home, and then yell at the top of your lungs about how my father's illness should get out of his body (and something about burning)... etc, while I'm trying to pray. Grrr. I started getting dressed up, while still saying "Our Fathers" and "Hail Marys" out loud, trying to drown out the man's yelling, and got ready to leave as soon as they were done. I had the strongest desire to get out of the house asap. I felt like I was trapped. It was horrible. I began asking St. Benedict of Nursia and St. Michael Archangel to get these people out of my house if what they were doing was not good. Soon after that, I heard them starting to leave. After I got upset at my mother for coming into my room and taking money TO PAY THEM, I grabbed my things and I left, telling my parents that I was going out and that I would be coming back "in a little while."

I walked (according to google maps) 0.9 miles, in a rush, to the nearest Catholic Church. I love walking (seriously, just call me Elizabeth Bennett) and I figured that it would help me clear my mind and lower down the unhappy camper feeling I had. I don't like being angry. I loathe it as as I hate lying. Just, ugh. When I got to the parish, I was feeling a bit better. I went to confession and talked to Fr. Peter for a little bit. That alone made me feel a million times better. I prayed a bit before coming back home, and walked that 0.9 miles back home. Though the people are gone, my parents are not happy with me AND there's a weird tension in the house which stinks. These people offended me, made my parents cry, did things short of trying to convert us to their religion, AND left a mess in the house. My feelings are being hurt but, eh, I'm used to that so I can deal with it. Not being able to have the same dynamics with my parents... that I have an issue with. I pray that all the weirdness disappears soon.

After all the effort I've done for my dad... helping him come back to the Church, asking Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati for his intercession, countless prayers and Rosaries said for my dad during his most difficult moments, etc... having him feel angry at me for not being happy about what happened with those people, and not accepting what they did to him, feels like a giant slap in my face. I'm sure that's not correct but that's what I feel. Regardless, I will continue to pray for my dad and do everything I can for him... because he's my dad and, no matter how crummy he treats me, I love him and I want him to feel better. And, considering that he is NOT going to get chemotherapy, he's going to stick it out and let the Lord take him when He wants, I'm going to have to put all differences aside.

If this all seemed like one big rant, I'm sorry. I was just trying to explain things fully to those of you who asked me what was going on. I hope now you understand why I felt the way I did.

I promise that the next blog will be much chipper and less "arghdghjg". :D I'm blessed with the ability to forgive and forget quite easily... and it's rare when I'm upset for longer than a little while. :) Thanks to all those who prayed for my during this "spiritual war" I had going on.

As always, thanks for reading and God Bless. :)

Good vs. Evil Dreams.

Yes, it's another edition of "What Crazy Dreams is Emmy Having Lately?" I've mentioned several dreams on this blog before. Seriously just search "dreams" in this blog and see how many entries you come up with. I've devoted entire blog posts about them. You'd be surprised how many comments I've gotten about the dream of the end of the world, which I wrote about last year. I haven't written about any lately but I am still having them... but they're now mainly about a struggle between good and evil. I've lost count of how many I've had that has centered on a personal struggle with the devil. Sometimes I have help from saints like St. Benedict of Nursia or St. Teresa of Avila (I believe St. Pio of Pietrelcina also appeared a couple of weeks ago). Lately it's just been myself against evil.

A couple of days ago I had a dream where I made the devil really ticked off for saying the Blessed Virgin Mary's name out loud. I was in the backseat of a car apparently invisible to the driver and front passenger. I knew the driver (she's a former friend) so I didn't really think much until I heard her say that she was planning on doing something to make sure I had an accident/got hurt. As soon as I heard this, I jumped forward and grabbed her forehead and started praying for her. I prayed one Our Father, one Hail Mary, and one Glory Be at first. I noticed she was squirming when I got to the Hail Mary. The second round of prayers, I heard her voice change and her hands shaking. As soon as I got to the Hail Mary and said "Hail Mary, full of grace", I heard a loud grunt followed by a really peeved voice saying "Shut up. Don't say HER name." I replied with a "Oh, yeah? Well. HAIL MARY FULL OF GRACE...", continued with the prayer, and kept repeating it until the girl (who apparently was possessed) lay there peacefully. During the prayers, though, I saw the devil who was in agony because I kept saying the Blessed Virgin Mary's name over and over again. He was REALLY mad at me, but I didn't care. I saw that he had talons that kept growing every time I said her name. I don't know why I had the dream, I just did.

That's just an example of a type of dream I've had lately. I've had a couple where St. Benedict of Nursia has physically appeared to protect me in my struggles against Satan. (One sticks out where, I believe, he placed his hand on my shoulder as I kept praying.) If it's not me actively fighting against evil, it's me getting "messages" to help stop two particular things which I can't mention because they aren't suitable for my under 18 readers. I've had two very vivid dreams where I've gotten the message from God (yes, I've dreamt Him specifically saying these things to me) to look at what these things are doing and to do something to help stop it. In one dream, God placed me in a city where there was sin EVERYWHERE. The entire place was red and black. I heard God say (and I'm going to paraphrase) "Look at everything here. This is all unacceptable and very corruptible" and something about helping "making it go away." A few weeks ago, again, I dreamt that I was fighting against someone because they were trying to spread these things to others. All I remember was feeling angry and disgusted, and knowing that God was upset and hurt by everything that was happening. I don't know why I am having these dreams. It could be because, yes, in real life I am completely disgusted by these things, but beyond that I don't know. It's not like I go to bed thinking about these things.

Where did my pleasant dreams of me talking to saints and priests go? I love those dreams. I miss my dreams of holding golden crucifixes, of being in a garden and in an all white Church dome while seeing many saints just walking around, talking to each other. I would love to have more dreams of the Child Jesus smiling and talking to me, or of having the Blessed Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ take turns pull me up and giving me hugs. I don't know what's going on. I do feel like I should really go talk to Fr. Leo about this, though. (Fr. John is no longer at my parish or else I would go to him. He loved my saint dreams. "Better than the movies" he would say.) Does anyone have as many dreams as I do... or as often? I don't know... it's all weird, but sometimes in a cool way. :D

Okay, well, that's it for today. Yes, another fairly short entry. :) I woke up feeling weak today (literally. I feel like I can't even hold myself up properly) so I'm going to try to rest as much as I can. Since it's St. Catherine of Siena's feast day today, I'm going to try to work on my novel a bit today. And, for the record, the female protagonist in the novel is named Catalina ("Lina" for short)... which is the Spanish version of the name Catherine. That was no coincidence. ;)

Hope everyone is doing well and staying healthy. :D As always, thanks for reading and God Bless. :D

P.S. Thanks to Claire from Musings of a Twentysomething who has helped me with my mantilla problem. :D I'll let you know if it works for me.