Mother Teresa’s Dark Night…

This was taken from a post on the homeschooling forums in response to the recent news article on  Mother Teresa… it is always so incredibly hard to write of this experience I thought I would save it in case I ever need to write about it again… at least I’ll have something to work with and not have to start from scratch.

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Not for one moment do I deny the human ability to burn out, to despair, to lose sight of hope in the face of insurmountable odds, the desire to escape. However, given my limited understanding and knowledge of Mother Teresa’s life and experience, as well as what I am about to share here, I do not believe that to be the case in her situation.

I told RNW that I hate it when she extracts a promise from me to post my own personal experience with the dark night of the soul and then goes and starts her post on the subject (as she does every. stinkin’. time.) with some comment about the Great Saints Through Time (How do you TM again?). Not only is it extremely difficult to share, like walking in here completely in my bday suit on my worst body day, but I always think, no. way. am I responding NOW… sigh… not after what SHE said… but she is right when she admonishes me to inform you all that it is NOT only Saints of the type of Mother Teresa, Padre Pio etc et al who experience the Dark Night. It isn’t. Ordinary, sinful, wretched refuse of awful examples of Christianity like myself can also experience it. It does not come from any of the things described here. It does not come from insurmountable obstacles. It does not come from a desire for escapism. it does not come from despair. It does not come from burn out. Neither do any of these things come remotely close to describing the dark night of the soul. I have experienced all of those things, and I tell you, compared to the dark night, they are peaks of unspeakable joy.

We do not realize, before that experience comes, just how much we truly sense the Presence of God. Even in those ‘winters’ or ‘valleys’ when we don’t ’sense’ Him in the usual way and feel alone, He is there and we are aware of Him… it is only a reduced or more limited Presence than normal. The dark night came out of nowhere. One moment He was there, closer than my own breath, and the next moment He was gone. Not a winter. Not a limited Presence. Gone. All awareness of that Presence extinguished so completely that one feels this inexpressible horrific void so intense you almost feel as though you are in freefall in an inky blackness. At first, the shock and panic are combatted by reassurances of one’s self that we have experienced winters in the spiritual life before and I began to deal with it as such. However, it soon became readily apparent that this was nothing of the kind. That desolate Absence was pervasive. I was never without it. I hate to use a Harry Potter analogy, but it was not unlike the Kiss of the Dementor (this was long before the HP books, but the analogy helps)… eventually I began to wonder if I would ever know joy again. I began to wonder if God had forsaken me. I began to wonder if I had done something, sinned in some way that would cause God to turn from me so completely. I began to understand what kind (though obviously incredibly dimly) of desolation might have caused Christ to cry out to God from the Cross. I began to wonder if I had committed the unforgiveable sin and blasphemed the Holy Spirit. I examined myself endlessly to no avail and found nothing out of the ordinary, nothing I could pinpoint which may have caused this abandonment by my Lord. I repented of everything I could remember and begged forgiveness of all that I had done and didn’t KNOW to confess. I went through various ’stages’ before wondering if I had lost my salvation entirely. What if I had? What if I had done something which would cause a Holy, Just God to forever banish me from His Presence? What if I was ****ed? What then? There came a time after much agony, much mental and emotional suffering, when everything stilled and got quiet. My emotions were calmed and in the midst of that great void in which I had been existing for some time it came to me. The question. So what if I have no hope of heaven? Let’s say that the worst case scenario is indeed true. What will I do then? What if, no matter that Christ died for me, that I believe completely in Him, in his sacrifice for me, that I have loved and served Him, obeyed His commands as best I could, not because I think it will get me anything but because I love Him… what if in spite of ALL of that…God forever ****s me to hell? What then? How do I then live? Do I ‘live it up’ and make the most of the time I have left because I’m gonna burn in hell anyway? Or do I live it anyway?

The answer was that I live it anyway. I love Him anyway. Though He slay me, abandon me, reject me, **** me, yet will I praise Him, worship Him, love Him, adore Him. I faced what was on every face the very reality that I had, in fact, lost my ’salvation’… my hope of heaven… and I decided that despite all of that, I would live every day, every moment, every breathe as best I could pointing others to Him, testifying to His glory, His majesty, His wonder. With that decision came a feeling of resolution, a contentment with my decision and yet the void was unabated. I began to live again with that focus in the midst of the void, in the unbearable Absence. Living out that choice.

Then one day, some time afterward when I was completely past even wondering about any alternative, I realized that the Presence had returned. He had once again shared Himself with me. Slowly, almost surreptitously, He had wrapped Himself around me like a fleece blanket round a sleeping child on a cool night. I remember the wonder of that realization… the tears that began to run down my face as I realized that He had not abandoned me at all, had been there all the time, but had completely removed His Presence ENTIRELY, that He might teach me something… something that I could not learn had any hope, any feeling, been left for me to cling to. I’ve never been the same since. I can’t really get into the ‘how can I know I’m saved’ discussions because it just really isn’t about that for me anymore. Do I WANT to be ****ed? No, do I WANT to spend eternity in hell? NO, I WANT to serve God with every cell and atom of my being, every fiber of my soul, for the rest of eternity… but I don’t want to do it anymore for what I’ll get out of it, I don’t even think about that anymore… but because He is worth it. I will serve with what ever time I am given to do so, and should He send me to the bowels of hell, yet will I worship Him.

Perhaps Mother Teresa experienced all those ‘human’ emotions mentioned early in this post at some point, maybe even more than once… but it was not the cause of her dark night. It would’ve been completely separate and on top of that dark night, in addition to it. Her ministry was not the cause of her dark night… her ministry was the result of it. The result of her great, abiding, selfless, tenacious, self sacrificing, love for her Lord… though He choose to slay her, abandon her, reject her, withhold Himself from her… she chose to LIVE for Him… and look at her LIFE… LOOK at the depth of her LOVE… truly, hers is one of the few lives I ever thought, while not able to EVER equal, came close to answering Jesus great cry of agonizing love from the Cross.
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Love and Sacrifice…

Let us remember that love, in order to survive, must be nourished by sacrifices.
— Bl. Mother Teresa

Temptation Also Reads…

I was on the phone with a friend the other day discussing the Temptation issue.  She was sharing with me something she had been given in her own struggles with that issue and it resonated in a very deep way.  I forgot to mention it in the Temptation post and was going to just do another one when in chatting with her on the phone TODAY she mentioned having blogged it…  *insert angelic alleluia chorus* …which of course makes my desire to share EASIER!

So, if you got anything out of the Temptations post, please visit Red Neck Woman over at Postscripts From the Catholic Spitfire Grill  and read Stigmata. 

Not only that, but she has another post just under that called Arrogant Humility.  It is a very good read for a number of reasons and if you are reading in the ‘Temptations’ and ‘Stigmata’ mindset there is much good insight in this one as well that might otherwise be missed in favor of the main ‘humility’ theme.  The quote from C.S. Lewis’  The Great Divorce ties it all up rather neatly.

This evening, I’m holding onto heaven moment by moment, one foot in front of the other…  I long for the ability to physically lash myself to the Cross lest my own strength should fail. These two posts have helped to ‘hold up my arms’ a bit and the help is much appreciated.

Suffering…

SUFFERING
I wonder what the world would be like
If there were not innocent people
Making reparation for us all…?
Today the passion of Christ is being relived
In the lives of those who suffer.
To accept that suffering is a gift of God.
Suffering is not a punishment.
God does not punish.
Suffering is a gift- Tho,
Like all gifts,
It depends on how we receive it.
And that is why we need a pure heart-
To see the hand of God,
To feel the hand of God,
To recognize the gift of God
In our suffering.
Suffering is not a punishment.
Jesus does not punish.
Suffering is a sign-
A sign That we have come so close To Jesus on the cross,
That He can kiss us,
Show that He is in love with us,
By giving us an opportunity to share
In His passion.
In our Home for the Dying
It is so beautiful to see
People who are joyful,
People who are lovable,
People who are at peace,
In spite of terrible suffering.
Suffering is not a punishment,
Not a fruit of sin,
It is a gift of God.
He allows us to share in His suffering
And to make up for the sins of the world.
~~ Mother Teresa

Temptation

Temptation is a messy business.  Sometimes you can see that messy business coming from a mile away and can take a detour.  It comes with billboards, bullhorns, and all manner of other over the top warning signs.  Sometimes it doesn’t.  Sometimes temptation is waiting around an innocuous corner.  No signs, no warning calls… just that icky mire waiting for someone to come along. Sometimes it’s a slippery hill that seemed flat enough when the walk began.  Hindsight is always 20/20… but that isn’t much comfort when one is covered in the black tarlike residue of a fight with temptation.  I keep reminding myself that wrestling with temptation and winning doesn’t always mean walking away clean.  Sometimes it means walking away feeling dirty and needing a shower after having clawed oneself back over the edge of the cliff… but sometimes that isn’t much comfort.

The worst is temptation that comes of legitimate needs.  Needs that will not be ignored.  Things that can be avoided completely are so much easier to battle.  Take food, for example… We have a legitimate need for food.  How much easier for the glutton to conquer their sin if they could avoid food entirely?  Yet that is not feasible.  Food is necessary and a legitimate need… How much more difficult then for the glutton who must be tempted by commercials of steaming favorites and so on constantly.  How much more difficult the struggle when it is impossible to avoid the near occasion of sin? Even this is easier than some… this is a fairly individual need… no need for another to satisfy it.  Think then of companionship, affection, affirmation… and any number of other needs for which we are dependant on others.  What about when temptation is not even exterior, but interior, in the thought processes of the mind which slip greasily from one thing to the next so that one is back in the rut of temptation without conscious decision… How does one flee ones very self?

I suppose I always thought of ‘finishing the race’ as being rather Olympian.  Running full out, breaking the tape victoriously to be followed by a victory lap.  I’ve no excuse for that bit of delusion… life has been of a sort that I should’ve made the connection.  I don’t think that anymore.  I’m not even sure that I can say there are probably those who do… because we don’t always really know the struggles the Saints faced and the ones we do show that it was, indeed, a struggle.  No, at this point ‘finishing the race’ doesn’t sound victorious anymore… just essential.  Lord willing that I manage it, the crossing of the finish line looks radically different to my mind than I had imagined previously.  Instead of running full out, a tortured clawing crawl by inches leaving a furrow behind.  Instead of breaking the tape, plowing through the line drawn on the ground beneath it by the very last pull of bloodied hands and fingers.  Instead of a victory lap, the last gasp a prayer of thanks to have made it at all.

That line of the Lord’s Prayer had always given me trouble… ‘lead us not into temptation’… even with the understanding it means ‘lead us not into trials’ I struggled with it.  Stupid of me, and I knew it at the time… if Christ prayed it, that means He intended us to, that it was needful to pray… but I have ever been one to learn as much the hard way as any other.  No longer the qualms… I pray that line with all my heart, despising my own weakness. 

I’m thinking much fasting and prayer is in order… it is all I can think of to do.