The white smoke came billowing out from the Sistine Chapel yesterday, approximately 7 pm in Rome. It was a joyful occasion for all Catholics around the world as a leader had been elected, a new pope. As you may remember, Pope Benedict XVI shocked the world by stepping down from the papacy. He caused further conflict when it came forward that he would remain in the Vatican City, not too far from where the shadow of the new pope would fall. And be dubbed Pope Emeritus. Emeritus is defined as, "Having retired but maintaining a title of honor." He vowed he would not interfere with the decisions of the church, allowing the new pope to lead the people of the Catholic church in peace.
The new pope, now known as Pope Francis, shook the world himself, becoming the first pope from the Americas. He was a cardinal in Argentina and is known for living in poverty and a humble life, denying the right to live in the palace maintained for a man of his status and electing to live in an apartment instead. He waves aside the chauffeur for taking a bus. He is a Jesuit priest, an old order. He, too, is not without conflict, especially given his ties and potential involvement with the dictatorship that ruled Argentina in the late-1970s, early-1980s. But what man goes without scrutiny? I read that around that time, he watched as women who had children out of wedlock wondered from Catholic church to church, begging the child be baptized. He would witness church after church turn them away. The former cardinal Bergoglio compared this to that of the Pharisees, of how it became exclusive, not inclusive.
I hope this is a sign of change to come on the wings of the new pope. I can express first hand that there is a sense of exclusivity when it comes to the Catholic church. My fiancé and I experienced it first hand. Further more, as a woman within the Catholic church, I experienced the duration of my life. The meaning of the word, "Catholic" is "universal." In our confession of faith, we say, "We believe in one, holy, Catholic and apostolic church." A church of unity, of followers, of believers.
The Greek word most commonly associated with the English word church is, "ecclesia." This means "the called-out." Any member of a church would be considered called-out to its purpose. So how can a church turn people away when its confession of faith mentions unity and the root of the word church means the called-out?
I don't know if there is an over-bearing fear of protecting the way things were or if it is fear that the morals of the church would be lost in any sense of modernization. But I wish things would change. I hope for a day when I can walk into a church with my future husband and smile at the priest, no judgement clouding his eyes. To partake in the sacrament of Eucharist without the whispers so many wayward Catholics hear at Easter and Christmas. For now, all we as a world can do is pray. Pray for the unity of the Catholic church. Pray for Pope Francis, that he may guide the church in a good direction. Pray for religions everywhere to begin working together to heal our broken world.
And always pray for each other. Sometimes we lost sight of those we need to pray for the most: ourselves. So it is with a hopeful heart and a light smile that I wish you enjoy today and everyday, in a thing called "La Vie."
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Discovering Love...Again
Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary
Love (noun):
1 a (1) : strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties
(2) : attraction based on sexual desire : affection and tenderness felt by lovers
(3) : affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests
b : an assurance of affection
4 a : unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another:
as (1) : the fatherly concern of God for humankind
(2) : brotherly concern for others
b : a person's adoration of God
This may be the hardest thing to write. One of them, at least. To really explain my outlook on love and Love, I have to explain my experiences from Love. This gives you, the reader, an opportunity to explore how I came to my viewpoint currently.
Currently, I am in love with an amazing man, engaged to be married and enjoying life each day as it comes. But if you were to meet me in my freshman year of college, this girl did not exist. This girl had yet to be discovered.
I had typical experiences in high school. I had "boyfriends" but didn't kiss anyone until I was 17. The boy that I kisses (that was outside of preschool, mind you. I don't count that) was a gentleman. We had a lot of good times. Unfortunately, we met 2 weeks before I had to move away with my family. Before then, love had played cruel games on me. I was teased, picked on, lead on and told I was only fit to marry, but never date. After the move, the relationship lasted only to the end of May, perhaps early June. That was the last good relationship I would know in approximately 2 years.
My grandmother passed away and plunged into a downward spiral. I was used and tossed aside like a rag doll. I won't go into detail now, perhaps another time. One story at a time, like the 40 Arabian Nights. I had extremely low self-esteem. I hated the person in the mirror. I was an object, subjected to the whims and fancy of those around me. I didn't know what else to do.
The first time I met him, I don't remember much. The one thing that sticks out in my mind is the fact that he got a letter, addressed to someone else. He said he couldn't receive mail under his own name. That should have been the first warning to run as fast as I could.
But I didn't. Like an idiot, I stayed. And like I deserved, he began to take my liberties. He took control of my life. My clothes, my debit card, my card, my things. Nothing was mine. I felt as though I had to do this because he was right in what he said. No one loves me. No one cares...except him.
I remember one night, we went to a country bar in Charlotte, NC. I was so excited to go out. He had brought a friend with him, another guy. I had to pay the cover for all of us. That night, I was dancing and having fun when someone bumped into me. Being who I am, I hip bumped the guy back, making light of a crowded situation. I looked over at my boyfriend and saw fire in his eyes. Terror flooded my mind and my receptors. He had threatened to leave me on the roadside before. To take my liberty even further. I walked over, my head hanging to my chest. He accused me of cheating with that man, the man I was hip bumping. No amount of pleading would make him believe me. I was so scared.
This was probably not the first time terror was brought into my life by this monster. But it wasn't the last. I remember I would drive the hour to see him on a school night. I would try to leave when I thought he was asleep at 11 pm, at which he would wake up and ask me where I was going. Saying he didn't want me to leave. And with that, I would stay. I would drive back to school at 4 or 5 am, nearly falling asleep at the wheel. Several times, I fell asleep while on the road, waking with a start at the swerving motion the vehicle was being subjected to. I remember him seeing me in nice clothes and telling me I was clearly cheating on him. I had a conversation with a classmate and I was sleeping with him. I was told to wear baggy shirts and ripped jeans. But this person was the only one person who loved me. He told me so...
On Valentine's day, my parents gave me a gift card to get myself something as a gift from them. I handed it to him, the monster, thinking he might get me something, give him a way to buy me a gift without his own money. He bought me a 99 cent rose. The card was not returned to me. There were other gifts in the car. Mine was an after thought.
I was a part of the school's a Capella choir. Every spring, they would go on a spring tour, traveling to some place and sing at different churches along the route. But that's when things got odd. I called and he said he was in the hospital. He told me a dorm mate of mine took him there. Should have been yet another red flag.
During our intimate moments, he would be on the computer, talking to other girls. I was an after thought. Yet I thought he held me as the center of his world. How blind was I! After coming home from the spring tour, I found a hospital bill in my car with a different name on it. Not his. But someones...he couldn't explain how it got there. I went home for St Patrick's day and celebrated with my family. My parents, especially my mom, kept asking me if I was OK, that I didn't look well. My grades were suffering, although I didn't tell anyone. I didn't have the strength to get out of bed. I was about to lose my scholarship, although I won't know this until it was too late. A few weeks after St Patrick's day was Easter. I told him I was going home for Easter. He complained but ultimately capitulated. And that trip and what occurred afterward probably saved my life.
I came back from visiting home and began to clean out my car. He had left it littered with trash and various sundries of things. But then, my hand came to rest on an item that shocked me to discover. A knife. There was a knife hidden under the driver's seat of my car. I was shaken to the core. I broke down and began sobbing again. I couldn't ever seem to stop crying. My life became a series of tears and sleep, the only things my body had the energy for. I knew then that it had to be over. With that knife, my life could have been over in a fit of rage. And it was not the knife I had bought him.
The end of that relationship or rather reign of terror came with the help of my parents. He had confiscated my iPod and other various sundries of my possessions. I couldn't face him alone. I asked my dad to go with me. He obliged me. When we approached the door, I knew he was inside. He wouldn't answer. When we drove off, he text me, telling me to come back without my dad. My dad told me to drop him off about a block away so he could still see me and then go. More importantly my dad told me he loved me and would back me, no matter what. With that, I faced him. He shoved some of my possessions into my arms and closed the door. I hadn't been invited to the house in a while. The last time I was there, visiting with his family, the cat they rescued came to let me pet him. The monster was amazed as the cat wouldn't come near him. Small wonder. Animals know people better than we know ourselves.
He called and begged me not to do this while I was having dinner with my dad. When I said I couldn't, he flew into a rage. I have blocked out whatever obscenities he may have hurled in my direction. And this wasn't the end.
Over the course of the month, the girl who took him to the hospital went with me back to his house to demand the rest of my belongings. He shoved them into my arms and threatened to come after us. He began to jump into his mother's vehicle to follow us as we drove off. At the end of April, he was spotted in that same girl's room. I came to find out that in the span of a little over 4 months, he had been with 7 different women, not including myself. My dorm mate and he got engaged ultimately and I had to suffer seeing him on campus for over a year. He had lied to me about his name and his whole story. All because he was a registered sex offender who didn't want to report his new location. And I was completely in the dark about all of this.
The damage was done. I lost my scholarship for a year. My life was in shambles. I thought of dark things daily. My world was clouded over with despair. I made more bad choices. I was caught in the snarls of other men who were terrible to me and for me. It wasn't until February of the following year that I got back into a better relationship. Even then, I wasn't whole as I could be.
I am now engaged to a wonderful man who has taught me the true meaning of love. He fits all the definitions seen above. And I hope my Faith will help grow my Love too. Over the last year, I have realized that I have been discovering the meaning of love all along, even with kissing my share of frogs. I was learning to love my family again, the way I should love them. I was also learning to love myself, little by little. I still have a ways to go until I love myself without a second thought. But love is something that always has to be discovered and rediscovered. Even in long-standing marriages, those couples would tell you the spark takes effort to be warmed and maintained. To love is easy. To be in love takes work, dedication and compassion for the other person. It is a two-way street. If you are ever feeling taken advantage of, consider the life you want and the path you are walking. Perhaps that will shine some clarity on the subject. Until you come to collision time of love and life, please enjoy a little thing called "La Vie."
Love (noun):
1 a (1) : strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties
(2) : attraction based on sexual desire : affection and tenderness felt by lovers
(3) : affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests
b : an assurance of affection
4 a : unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another:
as (1) : the fatherly concern of God for humankind
(2) : brotherly concern for others
b : a person's adoration of God
This may be the hardest thing to write. One of them, at least. To really explain my outlook on love and Love, I have to explain my experiences from Love. This gives you, the reader, an opportunity to explore how I came to my viewpoint currently.
Currently, I am in love with an amazing man, engaged to be married and enjoying life each day as it comes. But if you were to meet me in my freshman year of college, this girl did not exist. This girl had yet to be discovered.
I had typical experiences in high school. I had "boyfriends" but didn't kiss anyone until I was 17. The boy that I kisses (that was outside of preschool, mind you. I don't count that) was a gentleman. We had a lot of good times. Unfortunately, we met 2 weeks before I had to move away with my family. Before then, love had played cruel games on me. I was teased, picked on, lead on and told I was only fit to marry, but never date. After the move, the relationship lasted only to the end of May, perhaps early June. That was the last good relationship I would know in approximately 2 years.
My grandmother passed away and plunged into a downward spiral. I was used and tossed aside like a rag doll. I won't go into detail now, perhaps another time. One story at a time, like the 40 Arabian Nights. I had extremely low self-esteem. I hated the person in the mirror. I was an object, subjected to the whims and fancy of those around me. I didn't know what else to do.
December of 2006, I thought things would turn around. I started talking to a guy on Myspace. Remember that social media site? He seemed like a gentleman and we made plans to meet. I was in college in Hickory, NC and he lived in Gastonia, NC. I drove to meet him on his turf. I ignored the red flags. What could I do? He wanted me...
The first time I met him, I don't remember much. The one thing that sticks out in my mind is the fact that he got a letter, addressed to someone else. He said he couldn't receive mail under his own name. That should have been the first warning to run as fast as I could.
But I didn't. Like an idiot, I stayed. And like I deserved, he began to take my liberties. He took control of my life. My clothes, my debit card, my card, my things. Nothing was mine. I felt as though I had to do this because he was right in what he said. No one loves me. No one cares...except him.
I remember one night, we went to a country bar in Charlotte, NC. I was so excited to go out. He had brought a friend with him, another guy. I had to pay the cover for all of us. That night, I was dancing and having fun when someone bumped into me. Being who I am, I hip bumped the guy back, making light of a crowded situation. I looked over at my boyfriend and saw fire in his eyes. Terror flooded my mind and my receptors. He had threatened to leave me on the roadside before. To take my liberty even further. I walked over, my head hanging to my chest. He accused me of cheating with that man, the man I was hip bumping. No amount of pleading would make him believe me. I was so scared.
This was probably not the first time terror was brought into my life by this monster. But it wasn't the last. I remember I would drive the hour to see him on a school night. I would try to leave when I thought he was asleep at 11 pm, at which he would wake up and ask me where I was going. Saying he didn't want me to leave. And with that, I would stay. I would drive back to school at 4 or 5 am, nearly falling asleep at the wheel. Several times, I fell asleep while on the road, waking with a start at the swerving motion the vehicle was being subjected to. I remember him seeing me in nice clothes and telling me I was clearly cheating on him. I had a conversation with a classmate and I was sleeping with him. I was told to wear baggy shirts and ripped jeans. But this person was the only one person who loved me. He told me so...
On Valentine's day, my parents gave me a gift card to get myself something as a gift from them. I handed it to him, the monster, thinking he might get me something, give him a way to buy me a gift without his own money. He bought me a 99 cent rose. The card was not returned to me. There were other gifts in the car. Mine was an after thought.
I was a part of the school's a Capella choir. Every spring, they would go on a spring tour, traveling to some place and sing at different churches along the route. But that's when things got odd. I called and he said he was in the hospital. He told me a dorm mate of mine took him there. Should have been yet another red flag.
During our intimate moments, he would be on the computer, talking to other girls. I was an after thought. Yet I thought he held me as the center of his world. How blind was I! After coming home from the spring tour, I found a hospital bill in my car with a different name on it. Not his. But someones...he couldn't explain how it got there. I went home for St Patrick's day and celebrated with my family. My parents, especially my mom, kept asking me if I was OK, that I didn't look well. My grades were suffering, although I didn't tell anyone. I didn't have the strength to get out of bed. I was about to lose my scholarship, although I won't know this until it was too late. A few weeks after St Patrick's day was Easter. I told him I was going home for Easter. He complained but ultimately capitulated. And that trip and what occurred afterward probably saved my life.
I came back from visiting home and began to clean out my car. He had left it littered with trash and various sundries of things. But then, my hand came to rest on an item that shocked me to discover. A knife. There was a knife hidden under the driver's seat of my car. I was shaken to the core. I broke down and began sobbing again. I couldn't ever seem to stop crying. My life became a series of tears and sleep, the only things my body had the energy for. I knew then that it had to be over. With that knife, my life could have been over in a fit of rage. And it was not the knife I had bought him.
The end of that relationship or rather reign of terror came with the help of my parents. He had confiscated my iPod and other various sundries of my possessions. I couldn't face him alone. I asked my dad to go with me. He obliged me. When we approached the door, I knew he was inside. He wouldn't answer. When we drove off, he text me, telling me to come back without my dad. My dad told me to drop him off about a block away so he could still see me and then go. More importantly my dad told me he loved me and would back me, no matter what. With that, I faced him. He shoved some of my possessions into my arms and closed the door. I hadn't been invited to the house in a while. The last time I was there, visiting with his family, the cat they rescued came to let me pet him. The monster was amazed as the cat wouldn't come near him. Small wonder. Animals know people better than we know ourselves.
He called and begged me not to do this while I was having dinner with my dad. When I said I couldn't, he flew into a rage. I have blocked out whatever obscenities he may have hurled in my direction. And this wasn't the end.
Over the course of the month, the girl who took him to the hospital went with me back to his house to demand the rest of my belongings. He shoved them into my arms and threatened to come after us. He began to jump into his mother's vehicle to follow us as we drove off. At the end of April, he was spotted in that same girl's room. I came to find out that in the span of a little over 4 months, he had been with 7 different women, not including myself. My dorm mate and he got engaged ultimately and I had to suffer seeing him on campus for over a year. He had lied to me about his name and his whole story. All because he was a registered sex offender who didn't want to report his new location. And I was completely in the dark about all of this.
The damage was done. I lost my scholarship for a year. My life was in shambles. I thought of dark things daily. My world was clouded over with despair. I made more bad choices. I was caught in the snarls of other men who were terrible to me and for me. It wasn't until February of the following year that I got back into a better relationship. Even then, I wasn't whole as I could be.
I am now engaged to a wonderful man who has taught me the true meaning of love. He fits all the definitions seen above. And I hope my Faith will help grow my Love too. Over the last year, I have realized that I have been discovering the meaning of love all along, even with kissing my share of frogs. I was learning to love my family again, the way I should love them. I was also learning to love myself, little by little. I still have a ways to go until I love myself without a second thought. But love is something that always has to be discovered and rediscovered. Even in long-standing marriages, those couples would tell you the spark takes effort to be warmed and maintained. To love is easy. To be in love takes work, dedication and compassion for the other person. It is a two-way street. If you are ever feeling taken advantage of, consider the life you want and the path you are walking. Perhaps that will shine some clarity on the subject. Until you come to collision time of love and life, please enjoy a little thing called "La Vie."
Friday, March 8, 2013
Having Hope
Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary
Hope (verb):
As shown by the definitions provided, hope can act as two different parts of the sentence. It can both be a noun and a verb. That verb can be transitive (meaning it is an action on a third object) or intransitive (meaning it is impressed on ourselves). With so many definitions, what does hope mean to us?
As children, we all had hope. Remember hoping Santa would come down the chimney and flood the house with presents from top to bottom? Remember on your birthday maybe going to bed with jitters in your stomach, hoping for that one thing you just couldn't live without? Even as we started growing older, the hope still held on to us. Hope for good grades, for a part in a school play or show, to make a sports team. So....
Hope (verb):
(intransitive verb)
1: to cherish a desire with anticipation <hopes for a promotion>
2 archaic: trust
(transitive verb)
1: to desire with expectation of obtainment
2: to expect with confidence : trust
Hope (noun):
2 a: desire accompanied by expectation of or belief in fulfillment <came in hopes of seeing you>; also: expectation of fulfillment or success <no hope of a cure>
b: someone or something on which hopes are centered <our only hope for victory>
c: something hoped for
...Hope...
What is it? What does it mean to you....to me...to our society?As shown by the definitions provided, hope can act as two different parts of the sentence. It can both be a noun and a verb. That verb can be transitive (meaning it is an action on a third object) or intransitive (meaning it is impressed on ourselves). With so many definitions, what does hope mean to us?
As children, we all had hope. Remember hoping Santa would come down the chimney and flood the house with presents from top to bottom? Remember on your birthday maybe going to bed with jitters in your stomach, hoping for that one thing you just couldn't live without? Even as we started growing older, the hope still held on to us. Hope for good grades, for a part in a school play or show, to make a sports team. So....
where did all that hope go????
I think the more we become consciously aware of our personal impact on our lives, the less hope we have. We begin to try and control outcomes, as opposed to hoping for them. Hope is for those who don't have control, we might imagine. But what if hope is exactly what we are missing in our lives?
I have noticed that I don't get too excited over things anymore. Christmas isn't near as thrilling as it was when I was, say 6. But is that because Christmas changed or because I changed my outlook on life and lost a bit of that child-like hope?
Remember Jim Carrey in How the Grinch Stole Christmas? And Cindy Lou Who was trying to find her place. She sang a song that read, "Where are you Christmas?/ Why can't I find you?/ Why have you gone away?/ My world is changing,/ I'm rearranging/ Does that mean Christmas changes too?"
Does it? I think we all know the answer. Christmas doesn't change but we change as adults and that impacts the world as we know it. We lose the magic, the spark, the Hope that Christmas possess and entrances children with. I know I miss having that. It goes back to the Trust that children have that I wrote about a few days ago. We lose Trust in our child-like whims and pleasures and think we will be OK without these things. However, I believe we all need a little bit of Hope in our lives.
The changed necessary to bring hope back into the main picture will be monumental. Those changes take time. Hope now has to be replanted into society where it was so viciously uprooted and casted aside for better things, such as modernization.
But I know one thing I lost hope in was in my faith and belief system. Now, I know not everyone is religious but maybe your belief system you lost hope in was yourself. I know I lost hope in myself too. It is a dark and desolate place, I wouldn't wish my enemies there even. I have to replant that seed, replant Hope into my life. I want to have hope for my family, my siblings, my loved ones and someday, my children. I want to be able to get excited for them, with them and celebrate their hope. It is difficult to do without having a bit of hope yourself, no?
I invite you to sit down and think about the last time you felt Hope. I know I felt it faintly every time I applied for a job before I am at my current employer. I felt Hope when my fiancé first started talking to me. But I gave up on it. Case in point: the day I started talking to the man who is now my fiancé, I told my mom that it would never work. Despite my exposure to my parents' fairytale story, I told her that no one my age wants to work at long distance (he was in Virginia, I was in North Carolina). That is is a diseas of our times.
I didn't have hope....at a time when I should
have possessed it the most.....
Look at us now!
Hope and the ability to hope needs to be relearned. Think about what brings you hope. Recreate the moment. I know it is something I need to do. Right now, I am hoping to have a good time tomorrow with my fiancé on our first day date in a while. I can't wait. Until next time, enjoy this little thing...a thing called, "La Vie."
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