Trust issues, part one

Hey there, friends.  It’s been a few long months since I wrote anything of substance here.  I’m not sure if this blog post means that I’ll be back more regularly or not, but I did (do?) feel like I’ve got something important to share with you, so here I am.

My blogging break started a few weeks before Augustine was born.  I found myself in an intensely dark place, emotionally and spiritually, at the end of my pregnancy and the only things I could think to write about were deep, dark things.

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Augustine Paul was born June 3 on the Feast of the Sacred Heart. He is, simply put, a balm to my soul, and exactly what I needed. Thank you, Jesus. (And yes, I know I owe you a birth story.)

Trust me, you did not want to read those dark blog posts.

In fact, even when I had the yearning to write, I felt like God was… shushing me a little bit.  Like there was something He was revealing to me and that if I wrote about it too soon, it would somehow break the magic.  Oh, I know, God isn’t magic.  He’s miracles, and miracles are different, etc, but this connection, this slow revelation, it felt mysterious.  There. That’s a better word, right?  God was opening something mysterious inside me, and that if I was to turn around and chat about it to you, as I am normally inclined to do, I might stop paying attention to that connection and miss the whole point.

As per my usual modus operandi when I don’t want to do something, I didn’t exactly disobey Him by blogging about it, but I most certainly side-stepped. I did my darndest to break that connection, or to blur it out.  I was social media scrolling and Netflix-watching like they were my jobs. All that pregnancy recovery time (and then some) I spent absorbed in something – anything – that didn’t make me feel… remotely mysterious or vulnerable. I hate feeling vulnerable.

My prayer life was basic and uninspired.  I kid you not, I’d often flash to images of me as a child, refusing to eat my vegetables by pursing my lips, or refusing to hear parental commands by covering my ears and closing my eyes.  You guys, this was during my uninspired, pathetic prayers.  I knew how pathetic and childish I was acting, but I had exactly zero desire to take any steps to correct it. Back to Netflix and Facebook I fled.

God may be patient, but He’s also relentless.  I suppose it would be arrogant to claim that this whole hot mess of an election cycle was His elaborate way of getting me to redirect my gaze toward Him, but it sure had that effect.  I reached my breaking point a couple weeks ago and began to make plans for a ‘Facebook fast.’

With the end of the Year of Mercy upon us, I decided to use my newfound “free time” to pick up my copy of 33 Days to Merciful Love and re-read it. I’m only Day 8, but the timing could not be more perfect, and I can’t wait to tell you why.

Tomorrow.

In the meantime, here are my little pumpkins:

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Comments

  1. I remember when you only had 4 pumpkins and you lived in Korea. 🙂 Nice to see you in my inbox again! I mean, besides Instagram. I can’t wait for tomorrow’s post. God bless you and your sweet family, Micaela.
    Aileen recently posted…The Cloistered Heart: Every Place, Your PlaceMy Profile

  2. Looking forward to more…
    Christine recently posted…A RitualMy Profile

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