Falling on His Grace

Oh, this pain again. This agitation. Why must it come back so easily? And where did it come from? My heart aches. I feel on edge. Anxiety is beginning again. Was it my child's behavior? Or my wandering mind that seems to be trying to settle somewhere I'd prefer it not go? Is it my lack of prayer time lately? My feelings of inadequacy? Is it that thing I said a few nights ago to my friend? Something feels to be out of sorts. Oh, why must I be so sensitive? I have said so many times, "I'm tired of trying so hard. I'm tired of fighting." Why must it be so hard? In confession once, I confessed that I try too hard, that I don't just let things be. The priest who heard my confession, a wonderful priest, said to me, "Don't stop trying. The saints are the ones who kept on trying." This is my cross, an invisible cross to most, but my path to sanctity, my path to Heaven. We have been reading a book by Fr. Jean C. J. D'Elbee, I Believe in

My family and I went to Lifest yesterday. Lifest is a Christian music celebration - a "party with a purpose" as they say of themselves. Bob Lenz, the guy in charge, was up on stage speaking between shows, showing off a new t-shirt design that they are selling. BGTF, it says - by grace through faith. I have thought a lot about this idea of being saved by faith vs being saved by good works. Now, let's get one thing straight right off the bat. Protestants tend to think that Catholics actually believe we are saved by good works, and we Catholics get a lot of flack for that. But a Catholic that actually understands his or her faith understands that, while God does indeed care about our decisions and does indeed care about how we treat others and about what we do "for the least of [His] brothers," we are not "saved" by our good works. I am onboard with this idea - no, this truth - that we are saved by grace. Let's examine this. First of all, faith:

The fall and early winter were difficult for me. I felt like I was losing my mind - quite literally. At 39 years old, I should not be feeling like I am developing dementia. A heaviness was constantly sitting on my brain that felt as if it was compressing it or pulling it down somehow, accompanied by brain fog that made it difficult to find or sort through anything up there. A combination of emptiness and confusion predominated any thoughts I tried to assemble, and my memory was sporadic at best. I found it easier to simply not think. It is frustrating to not have control over your own mind, to know there is something up there but to not be able to access it. And it is difficult to function - to be a wife, to parent children, and to run a house in my case - without use of your mental facilities. Not to mention feeling trapped in your own body and feeling as if you have lost a part of who you are. Yet, my prayer was, "Lord, take this from me. Help me to feel better and think m