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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Oasis…

I posted a while back about winter… in retrospect, I’m wondering if desert wouldn’t have been the better analogy, especially considering the different nature of this ‘winter’.  SO, we’ll call it a desert. 

As I said, this time has been difficult as such times usually are but growth continues which is an unexpected joy.  It has been a time of understanding why God exhorted us in the Sacred Scriptures to not become weary of doing good.  It has been a time of understanding that there are times when a stubborn nature is a virtue because it enables you to set your teeth and plow on.  I had done, and was still doing, that when the time came to leave for the trip to Minnesota. At the rate things were going, I was torn.  I wanted to meet these friends, and see the old ones, but I could just see it going badly.  (Desert remember?)  I stifled that doubting Thomas voice and stepped out in faith.  So it was quite the surprise when God just blessed my socks clean off, even though it shouldn’t have been.

Wrapped in the paper and ribbons of friends, visiting, playing, etc were understanding, spiritual blessings, affirmations, encouragement, challenges… food for the journey, water for my well… and I came home renewed and ready to tackle with enthusiasm all those issues which I was just plowing through with my head down and my teeth clenched.  God delights in giving us grace and blessing, often when we least expect it, and delights in using OTHERS to show us glimpses of Himself and His love for us, while simultaneously showing us His delight and joy in those whom He is using. He rejoices in His servants! What JOY there is when faith empties itself in works, as surely as God pours Himself out for us and nurtures us through His creation.  What LOVE when those who seek Him first fellowship together.  What SWEETNESS when one puts their head down to shield their face from the blowing sands in order to better plow ahead in the path of the Savior, only to have Him turn after a time to lift the chin and show them the waters of the Oasis and remind them to laugh for the simple joy that the water of life brings.

I am learning to love the desert. Learning that the Oasis is sweeter when it is surrounded by the heat and sand. Learning that following the Lord is precious even in the midst of pain, frustration, and despair and that He is worth it all. I praise Him for this Oasis… but I also praise Him for the desert which made it all the more refreshing.

Winter…

It is a beautiful day outside, warm and sunny, the trees are green, flowers bursting into bloom (it DOES that in July in Illinois!), squirrels running just out of reach to sit and nibble on nuts of various kinds, butterflies taking wing on the breezes… and yet it is winter here again. 

I knew it was coming… just too much going on spiritually both in and around me for it to be as summery inside as it is out for very long.  Truth be told, this winter was longer in coming than usual… and more severe for the delay.  Everywhere I look, the detritus of battle shows I am far from the victor… and yet the war is not lost.  The silence and darkness are deafening, the corpses of my failures surround me in their overpowering stench, and I slump weary and broken, crusted in the barnacles of my sin, and yet I know that God is, even in the darkness… Corrie Ten Boom once said God is so close you can only see His shadow… and here in this dark and barren wasteland I find that sometimes God is so close, and the darkness so vast, that even the shadow is unseen… or even more comforting, the thought comes that I am simply hidden too deeply in His shadow to see the light that illuminates its edges.

So here in the dark, I whisper to Him who stands so close and yet so silent.  I whisper of the sorrow I still find in failure. I whisper of the pride that makes my failures chaff so.  I whisper of the certainty I have that He is with me, even though I can not see or hear or feel or sense.  I whisper of my determination to follow, and my willingness to cling to His hem and be drug in the dust when I can walk no longer.  I whisper the offering of all these failures, that in them He may be strong.  I whisper of determination to continue the sacrificial life, and ask Him to lash me all the more firmly to this altar I’m on, lest in my weakness I manage to squirm over the edge and away.  I whisper prayers for those whom I love, for those whom I dislike, for those who have left me bereft of any feeling at all… and when the despair becomes too great, the whispers cease and the silent cry of agony communicates to Him who is unseen all that I can not put into words. 

However, there is growth, even in winter.  I am learning so much… in an odd way, this winter is as spiritually active as the Spring and Summer which preceeded it albeit in a more painful way.  The unexpected joy however has been discovering that just as God was present in the gentle breeze, He is present even in His absence.

Light…

Some days I walk in the blinding white Light that is close communion with the Lord…

…and some days, I walk blindly, navigating by the memory and faith in that Light.

Fall Has Come…

Emotion as evidence of God’s presence or any issue of our walk or faith is never to be trusted, but there are definite seasons in the life of faith and mine has cycled again.  The soul is quieter of late.  The time of intense, intimate fellowship with God in Spirit, of learning and understanding has mellowed into a time of obedience, a time of implementing what I have been taught and walking by faith … not by sight or sound of whispered voice.  It is not a lack of God’s presence, rather a quiet assurance that remains where the intense presence used to be.

The RCIA classes continue to reinforce some of what God has taught me over the past year and a half.  Reviewing concepts, reinforcing understanding, giving time for more meditative thought.  It continues to surprise me how far God has moved me… and yet I am so completely moved.  There have been times in my life when I’ve felt that peace that passes understanding, but of late it has become almost a perpetual presence.  Somewhere in this journey I have let go and begun to trust at a deeper level than before. While my faith has grown, it is still far from a mustard seed… I keep praying, Lord, give me faith, not the size of a mustard seed, but the size of a Job’s Tear… I am not only doing things I thought I’d never do, but being greatly blessed by them as well.  Praying the Rosary, going to Adoration, searching for biographies on Saints, among other things.  I am finding myself longing for deeper fellowship… though I am greatly fed, I also feel as though I’m starving at times… Not a spiritual failure to thrive, because I AM thriving… but such a HUNGER..  It is not the same hunger I feel to come to the table for the Eucharist, but it is not unlike it either.  Oddly, interwoven with the hunger is also a deep well of patience… a willingness to wait upon the Lord, and to allow HIS time to be MY time.  It is clear to me that it is completely Christ and none of myself since I have never been the best at delayed gratification…not to mention that anything good in me has never been of myself…but only of Christ within me.

We have added morning prayers (and a portion of the rosary) to our day and when we are well and able, join the staff at the church for them.  It is such a wonderful way to start our day… yet another blessing of living in a small town. It would take entirely too much out of the day to have done it in College Station.  What joy to hear my children’s voices raised in song to praise, in chanting the psalms and scriptures, in prayer to petition.  Each new practice we add to our lives to bring us closer to the Lord will surely be a helpful framework for the next winter of my soul that is surely coming.  It is not a lack of faith which makes me say so, or dread… but rather the sure knowledge that it will come as it has before.  It is ever a time of trial when the presence of God has withdrawn from me and it is out of love, by faith that I walk, a time when all that has come before, and all that is new, will be tested. 

Even so Lord, even so.