Woe to the Rock in Which Supports You

There's deep honesty and mystery in the urge to get completely lost in Christ when you have been lost in so many things for far too long.

And yes, it is that time of year again when finals creep up on you, amongst the ten billion and one other things that need to be checked off the list as well. For me though, my mind has been everywhere and nowhere at the same time. I find myself running around campus in between my classes to get study abroad forms turned in, notarized, completed, faxed, scanned, copied, and stapled; I find myself in class working on everything but nothing regarding my course work; I find myself relying on my extremely patient friends to drive me to the DMV so I can have a car over the summer to get from my internship to my house; I find myself aching for peace about my second sinus surgery approaching before the adventures begin. I find myself everywhere, but nowhere.

I find myself clinging onto the Rock that holds Himself close to me as the waves crashing close in around me.

There's this amazing saint (which is like literally every saint honestly) I have recently found a close relationship to. He's a Jesuit Priest known as St. Alberto Hurtado Cruchaga. To put his life simply, he lived simply. Born in Chile, he was orphaned at a very young age, moving from place to place with his siblings to find contentment among the turmoil of his life. With that said, he understood the depth of poverty.

He eventually received a scholarship to attend the Jesuit College in Santiago where he spent time among the poorest of the poor. Not only did he become a Jesuit, but he was a disciple for the poor and taught high school students, as well as college students. Therefore, he was pretty phenomenal.

I guess I find a deep connection to St. Alberto because I see a lot of myself in him. I see that I spread myself too thin in various places all at once, but still desire to stretch myself out in every corner of the world because within, I know some fruit may bear from it...regardless of the state of fatigue I am in or mental state it may cause me to be in.

But above all, St. Alberto's unpublished writings (assuming journal entries) remind me of the rawness of the image of God.

He writes:

"You ask how I manage to put some balance into my life. This is a question I ask myself, as each day I am swallowed up more by my work - letters, telephone calls, articles, visits: the wearing routine of business - congresses, study sessions, conferences agreed to out of weakness, because I could not say no, or because I did not want to miss an opportunity to do good; bills to be paid, decisions to be made in the stress of unforeseen circumstances. Then there is some pressing apostolate, the urgency to arrive before materialism gains a complete victory. So often I feel I am on a rock, battered from all sides by rising waves. The only escape route is heavenwards. For an hour or a day, I let the waves beat upon the rock; I stop looking out to the horizon and only look upwards towards God...

How blessed is the active life, a life completely consecrated to God and completely given over to those around me! Its very demands lead me to rediscover myself and redirect myself to God. God is the only possible way out. In all my worries, He alone is my refuge.

There are also dark times. There comes a moment when my mind is being pulled in so many directions that I cannot stand it any longer; the body cannot go along with the will; it has obeyed so often, but now it gives in. My head is an aching void. Ideas fail to come. My imagination ceases to function, and my memory is blank. We have all had moments like this!

The only remedy seems to be to resign oneself for a few days, or a few months, or perhaps even a for a few years. To be obstinate would be no help: one simply has to give in. And then, as in all the difficulties, I escape to God. I hand over to Him all my being and all my desires, everything to his fatherly Providence, even if I lack the strength to speak to Him. What understanding God has shown me in his goodness even in these moments!

In God I feel a hope that is almost boundless. My worries disappear. I let them go, and I let myself go completely into his hands... I belong to Him, and He takes care of all and of me myself. At long last my soul can surface once more tranquil and serene. Yesterday's worries, the thousand and one preoccupations about 'Thy kingdom come,' and even the dreadful torment I felt just now fearing the triumph of his enemies...everything gives way to calmness in God, the rock against which all waves break in vain, God, the perfect radiance marred by no shadow, God the all-conquering victor, dwells within me. I can reach him fully as the highest aim of my love. My whole soul is within him. And then, sweetly and surely, it is as if all life's trials, all the insecurities and uncertainties, had left me completely. I am bathed in light. He fills me with his strength. He loves me."

With the closing of this sophomore year at Xavier, I reflect on the woman I was upon entering the beginning of this year. Without a doubt, if I could culminate the entirety of this year in a phrase I would say: "non-stop."

Never before have I experienced the rapidness of life catching up with my mental and spiritual state. When one thing flourished in an area of my life, the other aspects seemed to be incomplete. Having to discern about my relationship with Christ had weighed on me in the beginning of the year, among sorting out the hellish experience of finding a house off campus for junior year, among missing out on the birth of my nephew. But even when those corners of my life had sorted itself out (for the most part) I would find myself unsettled in where the status of my health was going and knowing that my Sinusitis complications were still occurring in my life and needed attention. Then there was the process of seeking a summer internship as well as getting what was needed to be done to study abroad for this upcoming semester, but then through it, having to catch a last minute flight to say my goodbyes before my grandmother's passing.

Non-stop. Gasping for air...but I've remarkably survived.

Remarkable.

Remarkable our God is to only allow time to move forward. And what is even more beautiful is the fact that although my grandmother passed away, Christ holds the journey where He alone knows how to weave every aspect of my life in a harmonious manner. Even in the midst of darkness, death, and pain. He has brought life out of this death in how I can pursue my passions and dreams by finding a way to inherit my grandmother's car to get from work and back and to inherit some of her furniture I can have in my new house.

The Lord breathes every ounce of life in every moment of my days, even when parts of my life die and come to an end.

God's remarkableness is overwhelming, mysterious, and romantic.

I am enthralled and enchanted as time unravels to fall deeper in love with Christ.

I know I fail, I make mistakes, I miss the mark on assignments, but what has never failed me is the burning sensation within to take the Holy Spirit's movement and to run with Him. Whether I have found this in starting a new Catholic program on campus for worship nights, whether this has been seeking an internship where I will be surrounded by people who are also encaptured by Christ, or if this has been me having to just be an "adult" and make "adulty" decisions...I really don't care what it has been, but I have cared how it has moved me.

Regardless, it is undeniable that when the Holy Spirit moves you, it fricken moves...ready or not get ready to start running. Get ready to lose your breath sometimes. Get ready to be transformed at the finish line.

And you see, when the waves are rising and the Rock is slipping from your tight grip, the only way out is heavenwards. The only way to give out is to give in to the boundless hope only a Lord can provide.

So why is that?

Why is it that there is something so inexplicably mysterious in wanting to be so lost and yet at the same time found in a seamless love like Christ's?

To me, this is the epic story of Jesus calming the raging seas and my calmness finding depth in His breadth.

This is the epic story of love beyond limits, a love that that never runs dry even though the flow of its spring is everlasting.

Maybe this "letting go" is different than we have ever imagined. Maybe there are no words nor explanations nor exchanges in conversation. In fact, maybe the "letting go" into being bathed into utter light would be when words fail us, but our will still burns mighty within.

Thank God the Lord doesn't just take my words, thank God He hears the stirring and the breaking of my beating heart to hold onto Him, my Rock.

I pray the waves that engulf you are peace and affirmation of your strength.

I pray the craziness of your monotonous days are reminders that you are in desperate need of silence, where the only sound that reverberates is the echo of your heart desiring to be somewhere else.

I pray you may receive peace in mourning, loneliness, or heartache.

I pray you begin to imagine yourself a year ago from where you are now and to ask yourself could you have imagined what you have encountered or experienced at this point in your life...and honestly, most likely, you will be astonished in all you have conquered.

I pray the job that has become boring, the tests that have been ridiculous, the "friends" you have poured energy into, or the relationship you desire to find more depth in will be overwhelmingly blessed by Jesus Christ Himself, but also St. Alberto Hurtado.

Do not fear of the letting go, for you will be bathed in a light that is infinite and a love that is all-encompassing.

St. Alberto Hurtado, patron saint of multi-tasking, pray for us!