I'm being driven back to God by boredom.

Life is an Impressionist painting viewed too closely.  I'm sure there's a picture here somewhere, but right now, it's all blurry patches of color that don't match.  Post-graduation life is not the neatly organized world I'd planned to construct for myself.  It's a messy, disordered, uncontrolled flop so far.  Most of that is my fault - I've been distracted and unmotivated.

Now, I'm wrapped in a nice little downward spiral of disappointment in myself, living vicariously through books, and experiencing very brief spurts of "I have to get at least ONE THING done!"

The center of the spiral is the fact that my spiritual life has gone to pot since I left college.  This is precisely what I predicted would happen, an outcome which I didn't have enough self-control to ward off.

After a half hour in the adoration chapel tonight, I was graced with a brief consolation.  I'd been afraid to turn back to Christ, thinking how I would feel if someone I loved ignored me for weeks and didn't even have a good reason.  Like any other human, I think, I might welcome the return of the one I loved, but there would be a stiffness, a hurt, a feeling of rejection and disappointment.  Intellectually, of course, I know that's not the way Christ works.  Yet there was an emotional block that held me back from talking to Him directly again.

Thanks be to God, I gave in to His gentle urging.  I imagined myself walking shamefacedly up to the house in Nazareth, realizing that the only one I've really talked to in the last few weeks has been St. Joseph, and that more nagging than anything else.  Our Lady opened the door with a smile and a hug, and there was my Jesus.  No trace of disappointment on His face, only a smile and an embrace of joyous love at this little prodigal sister's timid knock.

I'm struggling to keep up any daily prayer regimen when I don't have a structure of work or school forming the backbone of my day.  But I'm going to keep trying, and I know He's there, loving me even when I turn my back and plunge into my childish spiral.


  1. Beautiful post. Love your imaginings at the house at Nazareth.


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