It was, I think, the most difficult season that I have ever
lived through. That is really saying something considering I have lived through
several extremely difficult seasons that tried me. I have done things to
generate the seasons. Others have done things to generate the seasons.
Self-generated seasons are easier to deal with than seasons generated by the
actions and attitudes of other.
The worst seasons in my life have been generated by the
actions and attitudes of well-intentioned others that justify their actions and
attitudes by dressing them in garments that have a faint closet-smell of
Christianity but more honestly resembles [in my mind and reference] the odors
that emanate from the stagnant water and sour soil found in our deep swamps
where life is made practically untenable by the creatures that inhabit and
thrive in these environments.
That worst season in my life, at the turn of the Century,
robbed me of a lot and inflicted deep emotional injuries upon me. That worst
season was really the proverbial straw that finally broke the back of the
camel.
It was also the catalyst for a lot of personal change. It
was a time when, despite the other-people-generated personal hardships
that almost robbed me of my faith, I found myself searching and
inquiring deeper.
I could not bring
myself to reject God. I admit that I was plenty angry with him at the time. I
was, after all, doing my best to follow his calling upon my life. It was easy
to blame him for not orchestrating better results. I admit that I was plenty
confused but I knew, without a doubt, that God [in the realty that we call the
Trinity] was real. The problem was that I had arrived at a point where despite
my personal frame of reference [all my systematic and practical theology
coupled with all my experiences in Protestant pastoral ministry] I was reluctant
[afraid is a better word] to trust God.
I was totally disillusioned with Protestantism [and
especially the antics found in the independent charismatic arena],
disassociated myself from practically everyone in my Protestant past, and
entered into a life of seclusion. My mom and daughter were the only family
members that knew where I was or how to contact me during those two years.
For all practical purposes, David had fallen off the face of the earth.
For all practical purposes, David had fallen off the face of the earth.
It was during that worst season of my life that I discovered
the Rosary.
How did I, a disillusioned Protestant living in seclusion,
discover the Rosary?
I cannot, at this point in time, recall anyone specifically
recommending the Rosary to me. All that I knew about the Rosary came from all
my former years as a Protestant where the Rosary [and anything Catholic] was
summarily rejected and dismissed. I really have to conclude that it was the
Holy Spirit and Our Lady that led me to the Rosary.
It was, in discovering and
learning to pray the Rosary, that I began to experience the deep emotional
healing that I needed, healing that today allows me to harbor absolutely no
malice or ill-will toward any of the players that caused me so much emotional
trauma over the years that I labored for the Lord in pastoral ministry. I pray
for them … thankfully pray for them … with gladness in my heart knowing that
each of them was in part responsible for me being where I am now in full
communion in the Roman Catholic Church. Deo Gratias. Thanks be to
God.
Praying the Rosary salvaged my faith in God from where it
had been made shipwreck on the rocky shore of life. It did more than salvage
it. Praying the Rosary renewed and deepened my faith. Not only so, praying the
Rosary introduced me to Our Lady … the Mother whom I had never personally
known. This far this side of those difficult years, I have to accredit the
Blessed Virgin as the one who led me to the Catholic Church. Mary led me back
to the place where I could wholeheartedly place my trust in God.
I admit that the scars from the terrible emotional wounds
are still there. There are times when I experience flare-ups from them but, for
the most part, the debilitating effects of those wounds no longer control or
dictate my course in life.
We are all facing something.
We are all going through something.
Some of our somethings amount to serious hardships
and dire challenges that possess the potential to shake and rattle our faith.
There is no shame in admitting that and it is honestly dishonesty on our part
to put on a fake face and pretend that we are strong. God knows the somethings
that beat on us. God understands our frailty. God made us. God knows us. God
knows what we need. God, in his mercy, has provided everything that we need.
Are you a cradle Catholic in need of healing, direction, or
a personal touch from God to renew your faith? Dig your Rosary out of the
drawer where it has for such a long time lived out of sight and out of mind.
Rediscover [or quite possibly discover for the first time as a Catholic] a love
for praying the Rosary.
Are you a Protestant in need of healing, direction, or a personal
touch from God? Do not be afraid of the Rosary. Do not be afraid of Mary. Do
not be afraid of the gift of the Blessed Mother to us. Mary is the Mother of
the Church. Mary is the Theotokos … the Mother of God. Mary is your Mother
too even though you have not been introduced to her.
Mary … Our Lady … will embrace you where you are and help
you at your point of need. I know. I was, like I said, a Protestant when I met my
Mother.
Be not afraid.
“Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I
am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my
victorious right hand.”[1]
Hail, Mary, full of grace; the Lord is with thee; blessed art
thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary,
Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
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