If God's forgiven me, why do I still feel like crap?

I take it on faith that if I am stomach-sickeningly honest about what I have done when I ask God for forgiveness, I am forgiven immediately. All trace is completely erased. If I go back tomorrow, which I have been known to do, and bring it up again, God would have no idea what I am refering to. It no longer exists in the universal mind - the definition of forgive and forget. In Eastern thought, no karma. So, if I pray, am honest about what I've done and want to be free of it, I am freed.

Which takes me to my question. In this Lenten time of reflection, my time in the desert of my own thoughts and feelings, I'm wondering why I don't feel freed by God's love and forgiveness.


My daughter and I went to the same church at different times for Ash Wednesday services. I've never experienced a traffic jam going to church before, let alone at 4pm on Wednesday. The 3 mile, normally 10 minute drive came to a dead stop just a mile from my house. I had to park illegally and cross a field to get to the service on time. The liturgy was what I have become comfortable with: 3 scripture readings - 1 Old Testament, 1 from the Epistles, and the third from the Gospels - each followed by a hymn and then finally the homily.

The ashes from the palms used at last year's Palm Sunday were mixed with Holy water and we were asked to come forward. As the cross of ashes was made I felt a surge of energy at the center of my forehead like touching a light electric current. I couldn't hear the blessing. All I could do was catch my breath and focus on keeping my balance. Back kneeling in the pew I felt a deep love and comfort, profound security. When it was time to stand I stumbled right where I stood.

I came out into a beautiful late February day in Cypress, mild temperature, turquoise sky, high white clouds, flowers in bloom, the grass green and the trees still bare. Houston rush hour with the extra church traffic should have been impossible but it flowed easily and I remember being happy to be there, happy to be breathing and to be going home. Later, my daughter stopped to see me on her way back to school and told me about her first Ash Wednesday. It was my story in every detail.

The things I've done that I have asked, have been forgiven and forgotten by God. And I may have forgiven myself but I haven't forgotten. I'm really pretty good at forgiving. I've even forgiven my ex-husband for allowing our son to be abused all those years, for ignoring his financial obligations for the last three years and one or two other things.

Forgetting is much trickier. We are beings that possess memory for survival, learning, and improving our lives. I'm not interested in forgetting that my ex has been untrustworthy. That would be dangerous. If I forget the things that I have done that I regret, then how do I keep the learning? I think the goal is to give up the guilt, shame, anger and fear toward myself and others and trust myself to do better next time.


So here is my theory:

God forgives and forgets completely.

I can embrace that forgiveness as my own and I can forgive others. I might not forget what happened, but I can release the pain and trust that I, and you, will do better next time.

If I can remember that, I'll feel much better.

I just can't hide it

It's probably not appropriate to say Happy Ash Wednesday. The whole nature of the season is focused around prayer, fasting, service and charity in preparation for Holy Week. The fourty days of Lent are meant to provide a period of reflection and study representing the time Jesus spent in the desert before taking up his ministry. If you've counted you know that Lent is longer than fourty days. The six Sundays are not counted because they are feast days celebrating Jesus' victory over temptation and death.

Liturgical Christians: Roman Catholic, Lutheran, Anglican and Methodists, usually observe Lent by sacrificing something they enjoy, or find difficult to give up for fourty days. Some also observe days of fasting and abstinance on specific days. For Roman Catholics that means eating lightly and refraining from eating meat other than fish. It seems like we can thank Thomas Aquinas for that one. He argued that fish was less enjoyable and nourishing than other meats that provided "a greater surplus available for seminal matter, which when abundant becomes a great incentive to lust." According to Thomas eating fish promotes chastity and the tradition stuck.

In the Catholic tradition, Lent is also the time of preparation for new members to join the church. Tomorrow, Ash Wednesday, begins an ancient and fascinating process of preparation to become Catholic. So, to begin, we'll go to the church and receive ashes. I remember being in 8th grade and a friend came into class late with a smudge on her forehead, being a good bud I reached up to wipe it off for her. She almost knocked me down grabbing my hand before I touched her head. It was my first encounter with Ash Wednesday. Tomorrow will be my second. I'll try not to let it show I'm happy about Ash Wednesday and will let you know how it goes.

Happy Birthday Daddy!

I love you. I have been so blessed to have you as my dad and my kids are fortunate that you are their grandaddy and surregate dad.

This week has had a couple of landmarks. Mom and Daddy have been married 49 years and we celebrated, are still celebrating, Daddy's birthday. Not to mention my son was well enough to attend school for the first time in 3 weeks.

If you don't know him, it is important to say that my dad is a man of strong principles, considered beliefs and clear ethics. He sets a very high standard. I am a independent and free thinking. So, often I fall short, or think I do. When we had a moment alone this week, in the midst of everything else, Daddy told me he was glad I had chosen to join the Roman Catholic Church. He said he knew I had been searching and was happy and relieved I had found a comfortable spiritual home. Now I know he doesn't agree with all the doctrine of church or quite get why I would make this decision. But he gives me an incredible gift that he trusts and loves me so much that he releases me into the unknown and unknowable.

My dad is 75 today. I pray he will live to 100 and more. He is my advocate, my alter ego and my partner in crime.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I've felt really schizophrenic about this whole blog idea. On one hand, it's important to me to provide a forum for open conversation on things important to us. The rest of me feels insecure, vulnerable and ill at ease about sharing what I'm thinking and feeling in such a public way.

I tend to write at night. When I wake up, I'm having morning after self doubt. It's like the hazy days of 1984 all over again - skipping the disco hangover. Without knowing my anxiety, you all have been wonderfully supportive. There are no words for what it means to me to log on my email and have your notes. My caring friend with more supportive words about my son's health. Linae, sorry about calling me out, and appreciating the discussion of what it is to be authentic. My daughter pointing out that I don't need to worry too much about shading my opinion because it comes out anyway and that you love me just the way I am. And my mom. I don't think she's ever read a blog before but has spent hours reading this one, Sara's Olive Branch, Jackie's Take the Long Way Home.

Thank you all for being part of this. If you haven't read the other blogs, please do. Sara is wonderfully candid and funny. Jackie is a wonderful theologian. Her discussions of doctrine and the questions of faith are well thought out, interesting and thought provoking.

Much love back to you!

Leave it to Linae

I love my friends. I swear I do. I hate it when you're calling me out. You are absolutely right. The intent of this forum is to share ideas, examine our beliefs and gain new understanding through candor and reflection.

Linae's comment on my first entry really struck a nerve. Essentially what she pointed out is, I (we) want to be loved, understood. On the other hand, I (we) cover who I am, shade the truth, soften my opinions so I can be accepted. What it comes down to is I want you to love me for who I am but I'm going to give you softened version of who I am so you'll love me. Thank you for pointing it out. Let's see if I can fix that for this blog.

Today my mother went to her first mass and catholic class for adults who aren't (catholic) with my daughter and I. For the last several weeks I've been hedging. Am I investigating, going to convert, supporting my daughter, learning? Well, here it is. I sat through a boring, lengthy homily (sermon), a more boring class in a too hot room with well-meaning teachers, next to my uncomfortable mom. There was not one moment that I hoped it would be different, that I wanted to the homily to be better, the teachers to be more engaging or the room to be cooler. I loved every boring, uncomfortable minute of it. So, yes. I'm going to join the Roman Catholic church. You just can't find that kind of joy in boredom everywhere.

My daughter had a startling God moment today. The message she recieved was for me also. "I'm doing this for me. Not for anyone else." It's a critical message for all of us. We can't do anything for anyone else. It is only for me. Let's stop shading who we are so we will be loved. If we do that, it's the shading that is loved, not us.

Oh, for the love of God!

Now seriously, what does that mean? I've known it as an exclamation of frustration: "I can't even begin to believe that that happened!" "You can't be serious!" "Stop doing that!"

Today my son was prescribed his 3rd round of antibiotic for strep. My thought, "For the love of God, what is going on?" He has been home sick for more than two weeks. Another doctor's appointment, more missed school, new meds. Damn, really? It was demoralizing, exhausting, frustrating.

Then something extraordinary happened. I was planning on meeting a dear friend for lunch. I've had to cancel with her several times over the last few months because my dear boy has been sick. When I called her she did what she does, she loved me. She heard the fatigue and frustration in my voice and she told me she would call tomorrow to check on me and then she asked me to do one thing. She asked me to find a way to take care of myself and told me she would look forward to hearing what I had done.

Her act of love, changed my focus. I still had to fill the new presciption, make him comfortable, do my work... but rather than feeling frustrated, I found myself thinking, "what will I do for me?" After we got home and settled in, I opened a good bottle of wine, $18 for me is good, and watched a movie I had saved. While he rested, I rested and lost myself in good wine and entertainment. I realized later, I had forgotten that tomorrow is Valentine's, so I had to go to the store, while I was out I treated myself to a few things I had been wanting.

For the love of God. By the love of my family, my friends, I am truly blessed. Sometimes, I think I do this on my own, a single mom keeping our small family going. And a moment later, my support swoops in. I'm never alone, by the love of God I can do this. With the love of God we will be fine. I don't know how the other usage came about but I vote we stop it completely - for the love of God.

Can I ask you a question?

What are you looking for?

Me?

I search for understanding.

Several years ago, on my birthday, I had a vision, a visitation. To me, the message was clear: read the Bible, educate and minister. Ahhhhhhh!!!! Not me. I'm not religious, I am irreverant, loud, questioning. God clearly dialed the wrong number.

I followed the call. Doors opened, 2 years of seminary, candidacy for the ministry, teaching Bible studies, leading worship. Doors closed. A son in need of my focus, ambivalent church leadership. My friends were ordained, writing books, ministering. I was stuck.

For years, my daughter has been called to the Roman Catholic Church and through seminary I searched to find the doctrine closest to the original church. Over the holidays we decided to check it out and began Inquiry classes at the local church to learn more.

Not long after, at a party, I was asked: 'Where are you going to church?' After telling him, I learned a few things: Catholics would not go to heaven, need to be saved and they do not believe in Jesus. I thought that was odd what with Christ hanging from the Catholic cross and all.

The good thing about parties is when you find yourself in a truly bizarre conversation, they type you try to figure out for days and weeks afterward, it's easy to get away. I headed for the food.

Later acquaintance advised me that I would not be able to minister if Catholic.

Both of them approached me saying, "We need to talk." I would have been happy to have a conversation. But they seemed to want to fix me. They are well meaning and loving. But their approach hurt and shocked me. I decided then to provide a platform for an open, respectful discussion about the topics most important to our leading full, productive, joyful lives.

Thank you for joining.

We need to talk

"We need to talk." Heard that before? Let me translate: "You need to listen to me." My kids, friends, acquaintances and random strangers have been victims of the "we need to talk (prepare for a lecture)" statement for as long as I've thought I could fix the world one coaching moment at a time. To all whom I have victimized in this special way, I'd like to take a private moment now and say to you I am deeply sorry. I appreciate the times you saw and complied with my innate wisdom, and am still, admittedly, a bit perplexed at the times that you couldn't see the genius in what was right for you and followed your own shakey, uncertain path. I forgive you.

Having been on the other side of the WNTT (pronounced 'Want') with some very personal and sensitive decisions recently, I have to tell you I didn't like it. I want to propose a new approach: "Can I ask you a question?" Because CIAYAQ(or Kayak) does not replace WNTT in practice, we must agree to sincerely inquire, to learn and be open to hear the answer and work to find it's value. So some agreements:

• Be respectful at all times
• Ask only a question we are open to hear and consider the answer to
• Be candid about our opinions and do not advocate them
• Ask honest questions, those we really want answers to, not those that are leading or pointed

Through the storms in my life, most recently and vividly, Hurricane Ike, candles have been a source of comfort, community and illumination. I'd like to invite you to the table to have an open conversation about the questions and assumptions we carry, that form us and our vision of our world and each other. Please join me.

Tomorrow... how all this came about.