Spiritual Attacks

If you're a semi-regular reader, you've noticed that I haven't been posting much, since my return from the blogging break a month ago. And the little that I have posted has been mostly about my kids.

It's not, at all, that I have nothing to say in the area of faith, spirituality, prayer, etc. In fact, I have much to say, have several incomplete posts, many rambling pages in my journal. I have just not had the heart to finish my thoughts. I've been struggling with the Evil One in many ways... and the two strongest hits he's been taking with me are 1) in my ability to express my thoughts with any conviction and 2) in my desire/interest/confidence to move forward on any faith-based ideas I might have.

This afternoon, this gorgeous, not a cloud in the sky, no humidity, no pressures, just a nice afternoon with my kids, I hit the wall. I sat there, in the glory of His amazing Creation, and instead of noticing the beauty, I wondered if any of it mattered even the smallest bit. I doubted... deep and strong.

And almost immediately, I knew that I was facing the Evil One. I prayed for strength. I bristled, listening to the Christian rock song playing on the radio, for the first time finding myself annoyed at (rather than lifted up by) the message of hope. And then I heard the d.j. between songs talking about Truth. I remembered the words of my Spiritual Director on Wednesday night: God is both absolute Love and absolute Truth. Somehow, I was able to shake off the doubts and breathe deeply.

I went home, had a picnic on the family room floor with my two younger kids (BigBro and DH are camping), and prayed a bit more. Then, I spent my evening making two strong commitments to the Lord: 1) I scheduled the next retreat I will run at Vision of Peace for Lent 2011 and 2) I spent three hours fleshing out a program that is very near and dear to my heart, and for which I have a deadline of next Friday.

And the part of it all that amazes me the absolute most: how easy it all was. Both of those things had been such stumbling blocks for me; I had been weighed down by my own inner demons. As soon as I made the commitment to the Lord, all the weight lifted off my shoulders, the ideas flowed freely, and I've felt the presence of the Holy Spirit with me throughout this entire evening.

I always forget how easy it is to get lost along this path. I think, sometimes, because I pray regularly, attend mass often, and live my faith life as best as I can, that I think I'm immune to spiritual attacks. Oh, how wrong I can be! And yet, the answer, over and over and over again is to turn back to Him, to find my strength in Him, and to trust that He is in all things, of all things, and with me always.

The Long, Cold Winter in my Heart

I've been struggling with depression this winter. It's a combination of a bunch of things... and probably just me being me, too. It's been a rough winter: rough on my heart, rough in my mothering, rough in my marriage, rough among the kids. Raw, cold, harsh winds have been blowing... outside and in.

Spring is coming. Even though the temperatures are still hovering around freezing, we've had a lot more sunshine lately. It's lighter in the morning, when I head out to mass. I can feel the weight on my shoulders lifting, ever so slightly.

It's hard to talk about depression. Admitting that I struggle with depression from time to time is admitting that I am not the organized, "together" woman I try so hard to project to the world. It's a bit scary. People seem to like that "together" woman; I know I do. Will they like me, if they know who I really am? Will they love me? Will I love me?

I am blessed with a strong, supportive husband... my sounding board, my cheering section. He is my rock when I am crumbling.

I am blessed by the strength of my faith. Prayer has gotten me through every single day this winter. Spiritual Direction and Confession have kept me moving forward, pushing onward, digging deeper. My faith is my buoy... a sign of stability amdist the waves of my emotions.


And yet, even with my rock and my buoy, I have spent much of this winter near-drowning, barely able to keep my head above the water.

But you wouldn't know it... if you were outside my very tight inner circle. I've continued to run projects, manage the household, do the carpools, and be present at scout and parish events... the "together woman," big smile on her face, easy-going, ready to jump in and help out. I've blogged, run on the treadmill, hosted birthday parties and playdates, attended meetings, and welcomed dinner guests. I've done all this, never confiding in anyone what was really going on inside my heart.

Why?

"What's that about?" Father asked me last night.

I wonder. On one very basic level, there is my privacy, my need to set and keep boundaries. The greater parish community, the parents in scouts, the other moms at the homeschool playgroup don't need to know my personal business. It's ok for me to keep some things private.

But, there's more. It feels a bit shameful to admit my depression. I live an incredibly rich and blessed life. We are financially comfortable; in this economy, we live on one income. I get to stay home with my kids. I get to homeschool them. We have an abundance of healthy, delicious food. We have a spacious home, filled to overflowing with wonderful things: books, toys, clothes, lots of wants and all of our needs. With all of this... with a life as filled with blessings and gifts and love and security, what reason do I have to feel depressed? Do I not appreciate all that I have? Do I not realize that everything is a gift?

Of course I do. The cornerstone of my prayer life is gratitude.

But, it doesn't change the pressing weight of sadness on my heart. I wish it did. I pray that it did. So, beating myself up for feeling down is futile. But it does help me understand why I keep this so private. I certainly don't need anyone else beating me up; I can handle that job just fine on my own.

Spring is coming; all the signs are there. My heart, like the ground, is softening. Tiny shoots of hope are poking through the mud; I am starting to reach out for support. I will crack through the crunchy, outer shell of this cocoon... and someday, hopefully soon, will emerge once more... a new creation.