The wrong map
I used to have a recurring nightmare in which I was driving through the mountains on a foggy day. I was enjoying myself: the car was fun to drive, and I could see enough of the road ahead to feel comfortable with the speed at which I was travelling. The nightmare started when I suddenly came out of the mountains, into the sun, only to see that the ocean was on the wrong side of the road.
It’s difficult to describe the awful shock of this. Obviously the ocean wasn’t really on the wrong side; only my mental map was wrong. The problem was, though, that I now had no idea where I was or where I was going, and the map I had been using was clearly worthless.
The shock of this dream always woke me, so I never figured out what to do next. I haven’t thought of the dream in years, but I remembered it recently when I realized what a struggle these last days of this novena have become.
I thought the spiritual struggle of the novena would be like climbing a mountain. I would work hard but climb steadily, the way I have often done in real hiking. At the halfway point I would be at the summit of the mountain, take some time to enjoy the view, and then descend, keeping in mind that I must work on the way down, too, instead of relaxing and coasting back to the trailhead.
My map is wrong. This particular spiritual struggle is shaped like a valley instead. The first part was a descent down to the floor of the valley, which looked nice enough from the where I was. The descent itself, though difficult—I have never really liked descending while hiking—was certainly doable.
When I reached the valley floor, not knowing it was a valley, of course, I took time to enjoy the fact that I was halfway through. I remembered the graces I’d received so far. I kept going.
Soon after that halfway point, though, I began to tire. It was harder than I thought it would be to keep going. I had expected to work, but not like this. Doubts and fears began to assail me. They tested me on the way down, but were fairly easy to brush off then. Not anymore.
Sometime in the last week, I looked behind me and realized it seemed I hadn’t made any progress at all, and that’s when I realized that my map is wrong. I am going uphill, not downhill. The valley floor I am struggling to leave is still close by. The temptation to give up is very strong.
I only have nine more days of this. And what I’m doing is a small thing. I want to keep my promise to God, but the temptation to doubt that He even cares whether I do is constantly nagging in the background.
So I’m asking for prayers. If you could pray for courage and fortitude and perseverance for me, I’d appreciate it.
February 17th, 2010 at 11:13 am
My respect for you making it even this far in this journey can not be overstated….
Now, at the end of this valley was another, called the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and Christian must needs go through it, because the way to the Celestial City lay through the midst of it. Now, this valley is a very solitary place. The prophet Jeremiah thus describes it: “A wilderness, a land of deserts and of pits, a land of drought, and of the shadow of death, a land that no man” (but a Christian) “passed through, and where no man dwelt.” [Jeremiah 2:6]
Now here Christian was worse put to it than in his fight with Apollyon, as by the sequel you shall see.”
From “The Pilgrim’s Progress” by John Bunyan
February 21st, 2010 at 7:37 pm
My thoughts about what makes the novena irresistible are these: It’s not that God can’t resist it: of course he cannot be coerced. But I think what is irresistible is the effect such discipline has on the one undertaking it. I think it wears away the seeker’s resistance to the action of grace. So, I will pray for you, Julie, for courage, fortitude and perseverance. But I wonder if it’s possible that what is actually needed is surrender. On the other hand, voluntarily taking on such a practice as the novena entails a kind of surrender, I suppose. This morning, I left the house for my three Sunday masses in a cranky mood. Not enough sleep, an annoying note about car troubles J is having, and my craziness were for starters. Then it was colder than I was dressed for, and all my car windows were heavily covered with dew, and, as you know, only the front and rear have wipers. So I rolled down the side windows in order to see and found I had to make a number of maneuvers just to get away from the curb. Plus, Charlie had taken way too long to poop, so I was running late. By the time I finally was under weigh, I was growling and swearing. Pretty quickly I realized that I was in a crappy frame of mind for what I has about to do, so I asked God for help. I ranted a bit about my frustrations, and started to make a long litany of all the things that were bothering me and how much I needed Him to help me adjust my attitude, and all those things. When I paused for breath what came to me was the phrase “Be still and know that I am God.” I am certain it was given to me in response to my frantic outcry. I spent the rest of the drive trying to do just that: be still, and let God be God. Deo Gracias, by the time I got to PSP, I was in a completely different frame of mind and was able to do my job with joy and devotion. It was absolutely the action of grace. Julie: grace is working in you and has been for a long time. Trust God. Unclench a little. All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well. Any impulse we have to move towards God always comes first from God himself. So, though you may be muddling around in the valley of the shadow, it is He who is beside you and will lead you to green pastures and still waters. Love, DM
March 25th, 2010 at 11:49 pm
I have read thru many of the postings and they have me quite reflective about my own faith.
While I am in the midst of my own spiritual journey, I have discovered that I need to let God control my life and to fully put my trust in him.
He does provide continous generous grace for us. two of favorites are 2 Cor 9:6 and 1 Cor 10:13. Pray hard and work hard. If you want to walk on water, you got to get out of the boat. I’m rambling now.
Altos are the not border-collies of choirs, they are the #3 hitter in the lineup usually the best athletes. Bless you.