Hope.

Lately, I've been kind of disheartened... The state of society, relationship stuff, and just in general (usually involving me being impatient) with my discernment process.

And I didn't really expect to find inspiration in a candy wrapper, but some of those Dove messages really have some cool stuff. The other day, as I was indulging in some excellent dark chocolate, I opened up my wrapper to see: "Here's to something more powerful than chocolate. Hope." -Leah from New York, New York.

Well, yeah, hope is more powerful than chocolate. It brings people together, it helps us in our daily struggles against evil and temptations... But it really got me thinking, since I gather the message was supposed to be ironic. Or sarcastic. Or whatever the proper term is, but, anyway, that hope really is a powerful thing.

And power can be dangerous. Think Hitler. Hope can be devastating, especially when we put our trust in the wrong place, and things don't go the way we wanted them to. The crash back to reality can bring a person to their knees.

But, of course, that's the perfect position to begin praying. And believe me, I've experienced that quite a bit recently.

Emily Dickinson said:

"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me."

Hope is supposed to be a sweet, beautiful, and potent "thing" to help us get through life's storms, or to help us reach higher than we ever thought we could. But what if we weren't supposed to reach for a particular thing? What if we are meant to fail in some things?

If I watch a movie, see a handsome actor, and aspire to meet and marry him, I would be placing my hope in the wrong place, unless, of course, I were also famous and had the accessibility to meet the said actor.

This is an extreme example, of course, but often I forget that the things I hope for should be realistic and--ding, ding, ding--help me strive for holiness in the first place. Sometimes I forget about this. I see a great guy, who is faithful and kind, and I tell myself I just want to get to know him. Be a good friend, and keep my focus on Jesus. But at the same time, I allow myself to start thinking beyond such things, and pretty soon, I hunger for his attention instead of trying to wait for the Lord's plan for my life.

My discernment process begins to be tainted by my desires, and I forget that I must first grow in holiness, learn to be satisfied by God's love alone, before I can think about learning God's plan for my life.

Hope can be so beautiful. And so deadly.

I know this passage is used a lot, but recently, I've tried to meditate on it to get a clearer focus on how trusting in God will help me put my hope in the right thing--in Him.

"For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not for woe! plans to give you a future full of hope. When you call to me, when you go to pray to me, you will find me. Yes, when you seek me with all your heart, you will find me with you, says the Lord, and I will change your lot[...]"
-Jeremiah 29:11-14

Basically, hope is all about trust, too. Funny how that is. It all comes back to surrendering.

Lord, Thy Will Be Done.

Help me to will it.

Meditating...

Hmm... I've been thinking a lot about some of the verses I've done so far for my Lenten album. A lot of them have really reflected what I've been worried about lately, as far as discerning my vocation, and untangling myself from relationship issues... And learning how to surrender.

In high school, you would NEVER have caught me doing stuff like this: being bolder with my faith, wearing shirts that have anything to do with being Catholic or Christian, or even posting Bible verses as my status. I spoke up in class maybe twice my entire school career before college. Some part of me feared losing friends who didn't share my beliefs. Part of it was the fear of being looked down on in general, or having people think I was stupid or foolish for believing in a higher power. What has happened in college that has helped me move past this fear of humiliation?

I know that most of this new courage comes from having an amazing group of friends up here at the Newman Center, and seeing other inspiring students who aren't afraid to share themselves with their peers. And not worry what other people think. College has definitely been liberating in that way. Yes, I am often discouraged and, of course, I have doubts.

But maintaining an active and deeper prayer life has done wonders for me, that I can only attribute to relinquishing some of the control I often grip so tightly. I remember back at a Steubenville Conference at St. Thomas one summer, I heard a talk from the brilliant and hilarious Mark Hart, who spoke about surrender.

A chronic control freak like me (yes, I am that type who hates group projects because I practically beg everyone to let me do everything) has a lot of trouble letting go. Heck, I liked one guy for seven years of my life, even though there was absolutely no indication that he had any feelings for me beyond a distant acquaintance. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Anyway, Mark Hart talked about those people who say, "I let God be the copilot in my life."

And that has basically been the story of my life. Yep, I direct what I do, but he's there in case I get in trouble or have a tough time. If things are going great, maybe we'll chat a little, have some small talk. But the problem is that I'm still the pilot.

Mark Hart went on to say that we need to allow God to be the pilot. And we just sit in the back, and allow him to take us through... Through the turbulence and the sunshine. Trusting that he will get us where we need to go safely.

But, of course, I'm so afraid to let Him take over. In my head, it makes sense. Doing His will would make me ultimately happy. I should surrender, like I tried to say with this picture:

"Gladden the soul of your servant; to you, Lord, I lift up my soul."
-Psalm 86:4

As my vocation goes, however, I just plain don't know what is going on.

I want to marry. I really do. But is that His will?

People have told me that I should consider religious life. Sometimes that feels like a pressure bearing down on me.

But I see beautiful freedom in both marriage and religious life. Right now, they both seem appealing and terrifying all at the same time.

Part of this anxiety may come from the fact that I have never had a boyfriend. Sometimes, that eats me up inside, the wretched loneliness and longing for another person, and I allow it to drag me down. At other times, I am perfectly content with my singleness and who I am and what I can do with the time given to me.

Recently, the devil has beaten me down a bit about that. It's so tricky how he sows seeds of discontent and self-pity in just the right way to eat at me and distract me from the Lord. Makes me think that I'm not beautiful enough, not brave enough, not outgoing enough to deserve love. And then I talk to my mom, dad, sisters, or one of my wonderful friends here, or read a verse, or something just incredibly sparks a moment of clarity inside my soul.

This happened on Day 12: "Wait for the Lord, take courage; be stouthearted, wait for the Lord!"
-Psalm 27:14

I wish I could have moments like this every day.

Times when patience seems more appealing than having a boyfriend, or receiving praise.

Being sick this week helped me realize, though, that often when I feel crappy and think that the world is against me, I am letting small, beautiful things pass me by. And when I'm miserable and allow myself to dwell on the fact that I'm miserable, I trap myself in a vicious circle of discontent that accomplishes nothing and often drags down the people around me.

But, anyway.

Just some thoughts for today, before I unplug myself from the Internet to get some homework done.